Fred's red penis pops out when he sits.

No new art until the weekend. I have a hot tub party on friday, and have been doing code red body maintenance at the gym every night this week and getting home too late to be creative.

I'll leave you with a treat until then. Do you remember the very first time you saw drugs? I do. I was the tender young age of twelve. Awful young eh?
Here is how it went down.

My dad has a slew of biker buddies. When i was a kid sometimes at night he would go work on the motor bikes at his friend's place and we would tag along. One of these guys was quite a character. He sported the typical biker motif, black shirt, dirty jeans, zz top style beard and he talked realllll slow. We liked going over to his house because he had pictures of bare breasted women on the walls. Such things are a kick to a twelve year old buy. Most of the time we would just watch tv upstairs while they did the mechanicing in the garage. On one particular evening it was deduced that a part was needed. Slow talking biker buddy was sent to retrieve such part and I tagged along with him.....in his 80's model trans am.

Let's take a moment and reflect. Bikers, big beards, slow talkers, and 80's style trans-ams. If I had been a little older I would have known where this was heading, however, I was young and naive.

So off we went to with the t-tops out, wind wipping through my hair and his beard, to Chandler, Indiana, a town known for speed traps and an abundance of car lots only selling 5 or 6 shitty cars. We rolled into an old farmhouse to get the part. Of course, a little biker family lived there. After the part was exchanged biker family asked slow talker if he wanted to get high. Nancy Reagan was all I could think of. So that was the first time I saw drugs. On the way out the door after this little soirre (sp?) slow talker said, "You may have to drive home." I was only twelve, but I was cool with that part of the night. I will never forget that night.

Years and years later I came home from college one weekend. I went to the garage (family owned business) and the afore mentioned slow talker was laying under an rv working on it. I heard him mutter the following to himself:

"Where's that dang ol' screwdriver? Ah always lose all muh toooools. I tell you what, if a feller' (he actually said feller) could invent a mag - net - ic vest to stick his tools to, why he could make ah million dollars."

Personally, I thought it was sheer genius.

On a side note:

To the amazon.com seller who jipped me on the expensive camera. Yes, my only recourse is to leave bad feedback and I know I will get my money back, but if I ever meet you I am going to kick you in the nuts just for inconvienencing me.