John Cale "Mailman (The Lying Song)" in India

I didn't
draw
first
blood

You put
a crown in
my thorn

There's a
prisoner in
this song
but its
not me
I lied
about
the
prisoner

it isn't me
it's you
it isn't you
its me

Mashed Single Panel Adult Cartoons

I sent one to ahem - "Facebook Friend"/genius Mark Newgarden on his birthday, but the bastard didn't react at all. Unlike say, S. Clay Wilson who was most gracious. But I liked the idea, and continuing my hommage to his appreciation and reworking of the single panel adult cartoon "laff" I combined a few more.

Rules were:
Pick 2
Mix
Write new caption
Create cartoonist name/signature

SEE BELOW

Damaged Soul/R n' B/Motown/Gospel Portrait 3

Trash picked years ago in Atlantic County, NJ. Maybe a fan, maybe a booker for Club Harlem. This time: The Mad Lads

Lovin' that process.

Cartoon Haiku: "Vegetarian"

By Me - click for bigger, fool!

F*ck You, Woman, F*ck You

@ Fredo Corleone

Stereo Coliseum

Damaged Soul/R n' B/Motown/Gospel Portrait 2

Trash picked years ago in Atlantic County, NJ. Maybe a fan, maybe a booker for Club Harlem. This time: The Staples Singers

achtung!

Tuesday Night 9/27/77 Issue

A Fucking Gem from the early days of punk (pdf). Before the 'zine existed. Real throwaway stuff, that was probably never archived. An actual glimpse into that history. It's got many things of interest: Anya Phillips was one of the editors, and she was  protege'/girlfriend/manager of James Chance/James White. There used to be stories in the Voice or the New York Rocker (can't remember) about how she was a harridan but I'm not sure how true it was, because she achieved quite a bit in her short visit to Earth, and it's emotional intelligence that gets you places.

There's Dan Asher photos, The Midnight Fart editorial on keeping an open musical mind is real time capsule stuff, and the ads capture the zeitgeist of the movement. Diego Cortez rants about art cancer, which either ironically or he didn't want to say that's what it was about, in '81 killed Anya Phillips. There's even a picture of the girl who got dragged around the stage in a headlock by Lance Loud of the Mumps.

Loads of Dead Boys, Richard Hell, and Suicide stuff. 10 pages of single-sided xeroxed fun.

Childish 420 Reference

Damaged Soul/R n' B/Motown/Gospel Portrait 1

Trash picked years ago in Atlantic County, NJ. Maybe a fan, maybe a booker for Club Harlem. This time: The Volcanoes

Artifact of Proto-Lex10

Mile 300(s)

Usually this is 25-80 horses, but today it is the gladiators and gladiatrixes for tonight's rodeo. It's quite the spectacle, as PETA protests outside and Members Only clad dee-vor-says watch the pageantry of the opening parade inside. (I am repeating myself) They were a little put off by me photographing them (unlike the horses would have been) mainly because I'm part of that species that will shortly be shoving them, jumping on them, chasing them, antagonizing their babies (which are the kittens of meat) only to end up over some hot charcoal. Okay that last part I'm imagining.

GLADIATOR MARKED FOR BATTLE

My second stop was to see just why the hell my grapes aren't ripening. it's because they are ripening, just not ready......... these Pinot Grigio (or so I'm told) are still eentsy, and the folks at Auburn Road Winery said whites get harvested around the end of summer which it ain't, yet.

My Grapes - Through the roof of the little house they grow on - white seedless (supposedly)

Can You Hold Your Fingers Like This?

Wayne Raney and Lonnie Glosson, harmonica players, teach you how to play guitar, if you can hold your fingers like that.

Polaroid Artifact Sin Pantalones

Hey....it's ART

All of these Tyrolean M.F.s are ....YOU

That's right... lonely goatherd, bitches!

ODB

odb

Hokusai-yi-yi!

La Revolución

Gene Carr

Women are the greatest ones

Shillbur

Hey- Horses ain't cheap! Push those cars! Studebaker Lark, that is.

President Kennedy's Young Friend

Another Punk Post Card by Mark Cheney

This time: Bush Tetras. Punk poet Marty Watt was in the audience, and it was at the Starlite Ballroom in the now sure-to-get-you-murdered section of Kensington in Philadelphia. On the reverse, the photographer who also produced the card has written on 12/16/80 (3 days before my birthday, gift givers!) "I was so f*cked up when I ran into you - I didn't rea;lize I was calling you Pete - Sorry bout dat!!! Go see Bush Tetras again - I'm sure you will enjoy - M"

USE PERTECKSHUN

Vibrator Joke

What the......

Wow. I found it. I thought it was lost.

I had a friend in back in the day who had some serious problems that were eventually overcome, but at the time was in the midst of it and to them, Bugliosi was a hero. He is to me now. So when I heard him speak, I went backstage for an autograph. Bugliosi was warm and understanding and took the time to write this. The guy who would put Dubya in jail for murder, caught Manson and proved a lone gunman. A living national intellectual treasure. The friend never got it, for separation occurred shortly after, and I never saw them again, but a wish to pray is the same as praying they say. That is, if you pray. You get what I'm tryinta say - don't be so snarky, it was a nice gesture.

Mockery

My daughter riffing on my notes to myself, with highly acerbic crackpot ideas that are supposed to be mine. At first i was all "heyyyy..... this is crazy...." then "wait! this is supposed to be ME!!!!!"

Cramps Post Card

Postmarked May 19th, 1981. Mark Cheney was a professional punk rock photographer from the Delaware Valley, who produced these original postcards. Also a good guy who kept in touch. The reverse says, "....so the cat says to the sailor 'that's alot to swallow'" -Mark

A splendid photograph of Lux & Ivy

The Potato Chip Song

I do not know the provenance of this photo. I have never met these people. It was in my old stuff. It may have been the drummer in my band's wife's relatives. Either way whatta head, no? It's like he's in a trance. Here is his song:

It goes on like that until only dogs can hear it.

Mile 200

Atop Eldridge's Hill

"Riding around on a piece of ground in your home town
Waiting for someone or something to show you the way."