Posts Tagged ‘truckhoused’

2012-10: Where we talk about things

Tuesday, January 24th, 2012

Megatradeshow week:

Yesterday, I found myself at a tradeshow in Chicago that was specifically for people who do things like run buildings. It was super-busy. Filled with dudes with biznass hair. All those dudes were showing their foreheads. The rest of the uniform consisted of a suit with azultooth, or dockers and a polo shirt blasting your company name. I was not fitting in very well. On the other hand it was rad to see my work in action.

Regarding this tradeshow: If you want to see some serious corpo-big brother action, stay alert to the work of businesses offering building solutions. They can smell you.

Also, shout out to part-time bloggerman, part-time mega-marketer Andre Wenzy of Boards & Brews who was there heating it up. I said hello and we spoke awkwardly for about 4 minutes.

Contrast all of that with SIA which goes down this weekend. I will look like the stiff, but still accept your beers. Thank you.

TheChicagoManualofStyleSixteenthEdition Brown and the Mystery of the Wrecked Wrist:

Upon returning home yesterday my wrist was sore. But not that “I’ve been masturbating for 6 hours” kind of sore. Plus, it was my left wrist. I stretched it out a bit and eventually went to sleep. This morning I am in 100% crippler mode. I would guess I have 50% range of motion and gripping strength. Plus it seems like it might be a little swollen, but that may just be my perception or my weight issues.

Now the question is, how has this happened? I haven’t put any extraordinary stress on the wrist as of late. I haven’t been to a house party, so this isn’t some I-was-so-wasted-and-woke-up-with-bruised-ribs-and-some-forgettable-leaning-towards-regrettable-broad situation.

Can you solve the mystery?


Yesterday, in the rain/snow I was walking to work and was hit with a tidal wave of gutter slush from a passing car. Head-to-toe splashed. I did my best seakkle and just kept walking. What else could I do? The moment it happened I was going to scream, but almost instantly something stopped me. I knew it was payback. Over a decade later the karmic forces have caught up to me.

It starts like this: A 17-year old Rumorator, behind the wheel of a, oddly khaki-colored VW station wagon. It is early spring. The snowbanks are melting. The sun this time of year in Northern Wisconsin gives a false sense of warmth. In the Volkswagen, the windows are down, Fugazi is in the tapedeck, Wheeler is riding in the passenger seat. We still had enough time before work at the YMCA to drive aimlessly and maybe smoke one more cigarette. We hadn’t even left the Third Ward when we saw him. Older, probably in his 60s, standing on the apron of his driveway between the sidewalk and the street. He was breaking away the layers and layers of ice that had been forming since November.

No more than five feet from him was a puddle of spring’s thaw. Dirty with salt and sand and the debris that accumulates during five months of no street sweeping. Wheeler and I knew what needed to be done. He began to roll up the window on his side. I shifted down into 2nd and pressed the accelerator. We rocketed towards the murk with the light roar of a German car that is passed its prime, but still had the strength propel itself towards this puddle or keep pace at 90mph after a long day of snow-boarding, and would until it was crashed into a deer on new year’s day. The whir of that motor didn’t phase the man in his driveway. He keep working even as the car hit the puddle, covering him with the largest slush wave a car like that could ever create.

I imagine, as he shook the slush and grime from his arms, he turned to see the car, to hear the mo-tor, now mixed with the laughter of youth, rounding the corner and speeding away. Not once did the feeling of guilt settle over us in that car. We knew funny when we saw it. We continued laughing for a few minutes. When the laughing finally died we turned the car back towards the scene and washed that dude one more time.

That is why I had to just keep walking yesterday morning.

Artist in Residence:

Shout out to The Second Inventor of the Worm, who was awarded a residency in Gwangju, South Korea

Dude is shooting films. Blasting.

Mouthful of Metal:

I ate at Kuma’s Korner last night. I had the Megadeth burger. Still felt like a pussy.

The future:

I’m probably gonna feel like this by the weekend:

Dimebags of Funk

Tuesday, September 13th, 2011


So 9-11 came and went. But not without an absence of fanfare. And of course the NFL was out there, with their mullets and ‘merican flag tee shirts. Brainwashing, a la ‘merica right there.

For real, at one point some dude, no clue who he is,  was interviewed with the caption “Cleveland Browns Tight End Coach on 9-11-01.” Fox Sports just grasping at straws. I’m surprised they didn’t interview me with the caption “Poorly performing student on 9-11-01.” It probably would have been more poignant and compelling. Right up until I mentioned the plane getting shot down over Pennsylvania by USAer F-14 fighters..

Anyway, Conspiracy Me is also thinking that this is an effort by the right wing  to make September 11th some sort of holiday. September 11th will, from now on, be the new end of summer. It’s cool, we’ll get rid of Labor Day. That’s not an American holiday anyway. Assholes.


Woman in bar: Do you remember where you were on 9-11-01?
Rumorator: I was on a flight from Boston to LA.

That joke didn’t play well. Assholes


Pretty cryptic telegraph coming in from DanVan3000 in DeepEar.
Regarding the Boundary Waters Area Forest Fire that is causing smoke to drift over all over the great state of Wisconsin.

It’s so bad we are wearing wet handkerchiefs over our faces [STOP]

and that’s just to get around in the house[STOP]

We would not even consider roaming outside for fear of the acid rain potential[STOP]

The locals are taking up a collection to build an Ark at the mouth of the Fox River[STOP]

in order to save the few remaining animals [STOP]

They hope to float it down Lake Michigan to the Illinois River [STOP]

in order to cross breed some of the animals with the dreaded Asian [STOP]

Carp. [STOP]

We can only hope and pray that we some how survive this painful ordeal [STOP]

Gotta go for now, the ashes are starting to eat through the vinyl siding [STOP]

Yours in Christ,


I’ve got a sweet new voice mail message. All you MFers should call and listen to it. You know the number.





Thanks to KatieG with the bumps for this one:

Truckhoused #2

Wednesday, September 7th, 2011

Compliments of Chip, whose team won trivia again last night.

But more importantly…Truckhoused.

A couple of late breakers

My good man Poco has been on this earth or another year. You can shout at him on the twitter box or just tip back some whiskey for him.

Then we have this:

Well now look at this drumbeater. Oh, hold the fuck on right there. You got too drummers going on there? WTF? this

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shit better be good.

Judge it for youselves here: THISISPOLICA

But I trust those dudes with their music.

Also, I lifted that photo from the City Pages and it was taken by Some dude named Ben LaFond who has something to do with this.


Thursday, August 25th, 2011


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gonna get ugly