One from the vaults:
"Graduation Speech, #GS001406"
Today we celebrate. We're the inaugural graduates of a new program. The trail blazers, if you will. We're the vanguard up the beach at Iwo. Many of us won't make it. But as subsequent waves of our siblings in arms tread through our remains, our viscera caking to their standard issues, we can take solace knowing they'll one day stake Old Glory at the summit of Suribachi thanks to our initial sacrifice. Picture, if you will, a home sausage extruder. We're those first irregular links squeezed through the nozzle. Some of us are packed unevenly and improperly tied off. Others of us have split casings or have fallen unceremoniously to the garage floor, only to be devoured by Fido. None of us have yet achieved the ideal ratio of ground pork shoulder to fennel seed. But in time, practice and tenacity will yield an efficient, streamlined technique. In the not too distant future, this program will produce a steady, uniform stream of tumescent crescents of customer service acumen. So let us take up our anti-grav units--our kiosks await! In conclusion, there's a blue 2027 Ford Explorer with its headlights on in the auxiliary lot. Thank you.
Monday, May 13, 2013
Don’t eat a chunk of Chick-O-Stick and bend over, it will go into your nose and you will sneeze for several hours.
When pouring cumin into beans and rice, note that it smells like B.O.
One day you may reach into a pocket and find a PIN and have no idea where it came from, when was the last time you wore shorts, or what said PIN belongs to.
Tuesday, May 7, 2013
Greetings, Kornies! Hadley Daughterson here, and I'm writing today to tell yinz of a spectacular experience I had the other day at BTS (Boise Towne Square mall). I use "spectacular" to mean "of or resembling a spectacle" as furnished by thefreedictionary.com. I observed a preponderance of shop windows prominently displaying apparel emblazoned with what can only be described as commodified street art. As I gazed upon mannequin after mannequin adorned with wryly sardonic send-ups of older-sibling propaganda, it okkurred to me that the ultimate kommentary on coercive authoritarian power structures is to participate in the uniformity they foist upon mall-goers the world over. Seeing these products rekindled in me the antiestablishment zeal I felt in my salad days as a guerilla posterhanger in Latrobe. In light of this nostalgia, I have elected to throw my headwear into the kommercial ring. Rather than the distressed surfaces of urban America, the distressed fashion tee will be my kanvas. For my first prototype, I dug up one of my old designs from the late 80s and dusted off the screen printer. Chris Peebles agreed to model the inaugural garment, but only under the kondition I obskure his face in any publicity stills: