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Photos

Here are some photos from the past couple of weeks.

DOGGS ARE LIVING.

 

 



The last photo is of some part of East Vancouver at sunrise, from some roof top, where I was doing something secret, illegal, and fun.

Get a hobby that doesn't involve getting fucked up on blow and shitty beer while watching cut-rate bands play in boring venues. There's more to life than pandering to other people's expectations of you. Cats, dogg. And making art, and hanging with homies in the mountains, and hopping trains, and helping folks, and reading to visually impaired seniors. Shits fun. FTW/FU.

I'm a Cuckoo

999

KUBELKA/SVANKMAJER

                                KUBELKA

CLICK LINKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKK



SVANKMAJER

CLICK LINK

Life is good. Shit's wild. Trains are getting fucked with, new spots, babes galore, recognition comes easy, bottles getting skulled, gwag being smoked. Out of my way, doggs are living. Fools should die slow and suffer long. FTW/FU

GRIS GRIS/MOJO BEANS

GRIS

MOJO/SAINT JOSEPH'S BEANS

I've got a mojo bean, and I use it all the time. So far its worked like a charm, and lately I've been using it again to make all kinds of cool wishes. I also scored a legit voodoo doll this Summer from a homie. I'm afraid to use it, and I'm not sure I'd even use it on, given that I really don't hate anyone all that much. 

SCREAMIN' JAY HAWKINS

Current Setup?

NEGTRND2011

PPPPPPPPPPPPP

"....no, an actual giantess. They've discovered the body of a giantess. 8 footer."

Life is good, and I am a very lucky dude. FTW.



NEVER REST

DON'T SLEEP, DON'T POSE



This weekend's campsite, give or take a couple feet of snow, and minus the two humans.



Kitsault, BC must be one of the creepiest towns on Earth. It was built starting in 1979 by a mining developer, and was never inhabited in earnest. It's a full on town on the North Central coast of BC, but nobody lives there. It was bought in 2005 by a single investor who's still trying to turn it in to some kind of resort for murky lurkers and trolls. Seems like a strange place to go on vacation. Hundreds of abondoned buildings, streets, grocery stores, mining buildings, apartments etc...I'm trying to convince my dad to sail there in early Summer next year and check it out.

Wierd Times

The Homie Caravaggio.

STILL RELEVANT

People ought to help other people.
Religion or politics shouldn't figure into the equation at all. They're people, like you. Get off your ass, get over yourself, and do something to help out someone who needs it.

I'm fortunate to be surrounded by some awesome friends. The overwhelming majority of which work in social services, helping out people who are suffering, or in some way marginalized by alcohol and drug issues, mental health concerns, or a physical impairment. Most people my age that I meet are apathetic, lazy, hobbyless losers, who could really give a fuck about the folks half-living outside their trendy Gastown apartments. It makes me sick to think of the potential to affect change that gets wasted on such people.

"I HAD TO CALL YOU.........I HAD A DREAM ABOUT A CAT IN A MOTORIZED WHEELCHAIR."

-ZB, 2011

CLICK HERE FOR TRUE FORM ON CAT WHEELCHAIR POSSIBILITIES

CLICK HERE FOR TRUE FORM ON WRITING A GOOD SONG

This weekend I saw a Snowy owl. Hardly an every day occurance!

I also watched some footage of the last (known) living Imperial Woodpecker. Crushingly depressing.

Black And White

Murky Lurking

"Out of my way, doggs are living."

Here's a good spot by the ocean to hang out. When it's pouring rain in Vancouver, it's usually decent here.

These are Dowitchers resting in some sky-juice.

The man in front of me at Famous Foods bought seven bags of non-medicated chicken feet. There was a gross filmy substance left on the counter afterwards, and I winced when the cashier dragged my vegetables through it. 1st world problems......Harrrrsh!

Dennis, Houston TX 80'...one of my favourite monikers. So subtle, but you know Dennis was an old hobo with a face like a catcher's mitt. . 

Surf's up?

Peep form on true freaky rage dogg HP's, acting out while moving at 100 miles an hour!

If I had to live in the suburbs, this is where I would want to be. An old British Columbia Electric Railroad station, that someone has turned into an awesome living space/studio. Easels everywhere, cats lurking, and rail service right outside the door. The BCER ran from Vancouver to Chilliwack, and there are still a few cool station buildings around, including an awesome abandoned one!

I recently drove around Langley, Abbotsford, and Chilliwack on a day off. It made me feel a little bit sick to see all of the old places I used to hang out, break stuff, ride bikes, and smoke cigarettes.

The Langley Civic Centre is still much the same, save for a new paint job and less lurkers. We used to drink in the woods adjacent to the parking lot before seeing cut-rate punk bands play. I remember doing mean things to DBS when they played. Once we were spraypainting the back wall with some anarchy signs or some shit, and the police rolled up. Myself, and three friends ran across the BMX track and hid in the woods beside the graveyard. My friend Trevor gave me a cigarette, and I smoked most of it the wrong way around before noticing that the entire filter was gone, and festering in my lungs. Oof.

The old Langley Skatepark is still there. When they built it, people were so hyped. It didn't take long for a newer, better park to be built, but the old spot is not without its charms. I did a solid hours worth of slappy noseslides there the other day, and didn't see a single other person. It used to be crushed with sprays some Acrow and Raise, but now it's just ugly grey crap.

The lake on 16th avenue, just West of 208th street. One of the better hang out spots as a teenager. Close enough to home to walk, water to swim in, turtles to wrangle, and a dock to sleep on if one so desired. I still like going there, even if there's no booze being drank, girls to talk to, or psychedelic journeys to embark on.

Zero Avenue and 272nd Street in Aldergrove. My and my friend Keith used to go fishing here. My parents would drive me to Keith's house, on Friday after school, and pick me up on Sunday before church, which I reluctantly attended, covered in dirt, fish guts, and campfire smoke. Keith lived on this amazing acreage with funny animals like pigs and cows and lots of Jack Russell terriers. I swear there was like.....hundreds of them. Maybe not. We would ride bikes with Keith's older brothers and this idiot named Jeremy, to Zero Avenue, where there was a stream that seemed to always be full of fish. We would catch tons of them, and put them in buckets, which were a hassle to get back to Keith's house. Once home, we dumped the fish into their manmade lake to catch again some time, although I never once caught a trout there, despite hundreds of attempts. All I ever caught were these gross catfish. Hurting. One time Jeremy jumped off a swingset backwards, trying to land in his feet, but ended up getting caught somehow. He broke both of his arms, and used this an excuse as to why he was kind of fat, but had the skinniest arms. Like I said, the guy was kind of a fool.

8th Avenue and Lefevre road in Abbotsford. Tight spot to hang out. Nothing around except creatures and a pond, and some big rocks to sit on.

Oh yeah, that art show is November 18th. Cheap tall cans and expensive art.

Accidentally spoke to an old friend the other day at work. I called this great organization to get some info on a program, and they answered the phone. It's crazy how even exchanging the banal minutia of life with someone you think is rad, can make your week. Sincerely hope you're doing well.

Ricky is wild as fuck.

Don't be a stranger.

Never better/acting wild, Goo.