I have enacted a new policy; when I see something at a thrift store (or wherever really) and it's funny for ironic reasons, I do NOT need to buy it. This is, obviously, an ironically funny mug. I think it says Sexy Grandpa.
Touring the local galleries I found this powerful representation of a tiger...grr.
A fine example of regional paper arts.
I will refrain from commenting on this one for fear of saying something I may regret.
I was going to buy this small, fiery guitar when I 1. remembered my before mentioned mantra, and 2. realized I don't need to own another musical instrument that I don't know how to play.
There is something I find so comforting about old bathtubs lined up outside.
I walked around Portland, looking for thrift stores and trying to avoid methadone clinics. I was moderately successful.
This is a park near Mary's house.
We did some stuff. It's possible this is something we did...at night.
In the dark.
At some bar, we were yelled at for stealing chairs.
We saw a rock bands who's name I can't remember. They were kind of bad in a good way. Maybe you could describe then as hardcore-indie-pop-crap-rock...maybe. I thought they were pretty entertaining. My hosts were less enthused about the performance.
I waited too long to comment on these pictures so I'm really not sure whats going on. I will make a new years resolution to stay on top of these things.
I think this is Mary's room.
My lovely tour guides.
2 comments:
You could have bought the guitar to smash after a musical performance. It would have been especially entertaining to smash it on the stage after a performance that didn't include a guitar at all. Like a piano sonata. I keep wooden tennis rackets on the side of the courts for the same reason.
It might be even better if I had a piano I could smash. Maybe I could have a burning piano behind me on stage as I performed! It could be a tribute to Sonic Youth and Jimi Hendrix. We could call it Axis Bold as Goo.
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