shotguns and paper hearts

had a couple of nice days so far. The monday and the tuesday. They're here under sleds & visqueen. Visqueen if you didn't know, is that thin plastic stuff that most folks call a drop cloth. But photographers and stuff, they have a nice name for it. Like extension cords. We call 'em stingers. And Junior to Baby adapters, well, we just call 'em Butt Plugs. So there. Visqueen. You'll get the chance to see some visqueen in today's update. So it's like show and tell that way. Don't cover your head with it, but i bet you could get down a snowy hill on it pretty good.

The great thing about the day after a snow storm, is you get to see how screwed the people that didn't shovel their cars out are. It's no longer the pretty white fluffy blanket of love over their cars. It becomes a nasty blackened cake of ice around the base of an ugly frozen bank of snow, that will prove very difficult to shovel through. The contrast and speed with which the pretty snow becomes the shit on your heels is something i never get bored of witnessing. (actually. that's a lie. i'm bored with it before it happens, but, as i don't have to deal with a car and a shovel and the iceberg around it, i'm less bored these days)

Hung out with my pal ol' deEtte yesterday, we went to the park and rode some pretty makeshift sleds for a while, but then the cadillacs came. (that's what regular folks call sleds that have air inside, to lighten the smacks to your rump, and handles on them, for to steer with.) I like a cadillac when you're over 30. I think they're very smart. I mean, you watch the little kids, they're hellions. But they somehow don't get the bruises grown-ups do. I mean, some of the kids i saw yesterday, sure, THEY got some bruises like grown-ups do, but my word, they were acting like god damned maniacs.

I saw this one kid, his face was so fucked up, i thought it was the guy Cheney shot. Turns out he just skidded off course and into a stump, face first. (tough break, but hey, it beats a shotgun blast to the face.)

From the start we were flying the peasant carts. A little piece of cardboard, or an little bit of plastic which happened to break off of someone else's sled. In the end we found the most success with a completely destroyed dish, and a mail sorting bin. Everyone was pretty friendly and there was a lot of sharing, particularly in the ideas department. How to get down that hill faster, without a sled. At one point, unbeknownst to me, my camera was ejected from my jacket, and then stuffed with snow. I've put an image up there today of the kid who found it in the snow and brought it back to me. You'll see that there is still quite a bit of snow in the lens. Ok. so it works a little stiff now, but you know, just keepin' it real.

There were these other guys in the park, doing a little art piece, it was a snow man with a tube and a pump coming up through the back and out the mouth. The tube was linked to a bucket filled with snow-cone syrup. The snow man's chest was riddled with spoons. (much like Cheney's Lawyer pal, who was riddled with buckshot) So, when kids were getting curious, and before the red juice had been pumped, I told a bunch of kids the snowman was going to spit FIRE. And that the bucket was filled with gasoline. You know, like a statement about global warming, mass conspicuous consumption, the oil boon and their profits... stuff like that. Kids love it. So, the crowd grew. (of course, they probably didn't know about the political stuff, but a snowman breathing fire in central park? sure. they're going to hang around)

So we took the cue to split. I didn't want to be around when they found out instead of fire, they were going to see snowcone flavor syrup. I mean, as cool as that is, it's sort of pinner next to FIRE.

Today was good too. Back up to the bronx. Just nice weather and nice people. a fun day. You'll see some visqueen in those images.

I guess that's all i really have to say right now, i want to see if i can make my way over to the rock and roll house for some steamed veggies and a little tipple.

love and hearts and all the good you need,

danconnortown | 38˚ | listening to Curtis Mayfield