greetings, from the future...

my friend iris and her boyfriend put this together. well played...

my friend joe told me about something strange that he used to do when he was about 4 years old... when his mother would cook spaghetti, little joey would get too hungry to wait, so she'd give him a few strands of dry pasta to tide him over, but he wasn't satisfied with just eating the pasta strands on their own. he'd go around the house and find collections of dust and use the pasta to wipe up/collect the dust as if using a tiny little squeegee...   then he'd eat the dust encrusted spaghetti strands. however, not content with the flavors of the dust he'd found, he set out to find the tastiest dust in the house (i didn't ask, but i'll pretend that this took him years to do). after further dust deposit samplings, he concluded that the most delicious dust resided on the lower shelf of the end-table next to the couch in their living room. and from then on, that was his main source of dietary dust. i can't imagine why that dust would be any tastier...   bu

i've decided my side project for the time being will be creating drawing of people i know combined with animals/creatures...    i'm aiming for funny and/or creepy. behold, wolfnick!

i'm so angry 'cause i have these useless little arms!!

i wouldn't say that doing laundry is stressful, boring as shit, but not stressful, EXCEPT when it comes time to match up the socks. when i begin pairing them up i wonder how many socks are going to be left without a partner. at this point i start feeling like a platoon leader who has just lead his troops out of an ambush, only to realize that some of his soldiers didn't make it.  ...we had crossed the ridge and those commie bastards sprang up outta nowhere, we didn't stand a chance, we had no choice but to retreat and regroup. the platoon fell back to the rendezvous point and that's when it hit me...  we'd lost taylor (blue argyle sock) and hernandez (black ankle sock). i scoured the battlefield (washer/dryer) and found no trace of them anywhere...   maybe they're still alive out there, maybe charlie is torturing them deep in some bunker, or maybe they're gone forever...     missing socks...   you're lost, but not forgotten.

i just realized that my phone has an option to display a custom message on the lock-screen. so i figured i should put a message that would be useful in the event that someone were to find my lost phone, or if some dickhole stole it. it reads:    "If found, email antgash@gmail.com; you will be handsomely rewarded...     otherwise, the self-destruct sequence will be initiated." sadly, i can't actually remote detonate my phone (yet), but maybe this thief is mildly retarded and doesn't know any better...    in which case they'll either throw it in a river, or return it to me. hopefully the latter. and if some good-natured individual were to find it, they'd be inclined to use the (handily available) email address to return it, for that handsome reward, which i still haven't decided on...   maybe a meatball?

me and paxton recently went on a road trip from sf up to seattle, we stopped and spent the night in portland on the way up there. our first 3 hotel choices were all booked so we settled on a motel 6, which was right next to a strip joint called safari (sadly we didn't go in). we did find a decent bar called c-bar, that had some pretty good food and a bunch of pinball games. we think it might have been a gay bar and the real name of the bar might have been cock-bar... as i was at the bar waiting to put in an order this middle aged black dude named jerry sitting next to me started making small talk, pretty standard stuff mostly. although he did ask if we took the"really pretty highway" to get to portland; and then asked something about whether i liked nuts and berries. it started getting weird. i tried focusing on getting the bartender's attention so i could avoid conversing with jerry when a fairly large lady stands at the bar right next to him to order a drink. j

while i was visiting family & friends in NJ i spent a good amount of my downtime getting lifted with nick. one of those occasions we decided to take his boston terrier (yuki) out for a walk. the weather was cooling off a bit and it's always nice to take a stroll in my hometown, especially in the summer when it's all lush & green. about halfway through the walk i started thinking that i was a bit too zooted to be out in public, but decided to keep going; since we probably wouldn't even interact with anyone anyway. i was wrong... we got about 2 blocks away from his house and yuki decides to take the biggest dump of her life, or so nick claims. that's about when he realized that he forgot to bring any poo-bags with him; also about the time we both realized there was some obese trashy looking woman sitting on her porch talking on the phone about 30 feet away from us. nick starts to panic as we both check our pockets for something we could use to grab this stinky/s

at first glance you might think a mildly retarded third grader was responsible for these drawings... but you'd be wrong, it was my older brother who birthed these elaborate masterpieces. click on the slideshow to see larger images... you know you wanna. i COULD give an explanation as to why he drew these, but that might ruin the fun of it.

it's good to have a plan... 1. head home (if not already there). 2. gather any supplies (flashlight, food, water, first aid) that can fit in my camping backpack. 3. grab my survival handbook, sleeping bag & my windbreaker (seems fairly bite resistant). 4. get my knife & my tomahawk (i really should own a handgun or rifle). 5. hop on my bike and ride the coast heading south. 6. on a recent roadtrip i decided this place would be where, hopefully others, and i could hold up and fend off the horde! there appears to be a water tower and some other buildings up there, and hopefully a docked boat on the other side. i believe there were signs warning not to trespass, so it is probably still being used by the government for some shadiness.

my friend paxton came by to pickup something that he left behind last time he was here. his bum leg has been acting up so i told him i'd just run it down to his car when he got here. he texted me when he arrived and i went down & hung out in his car for a few minutes, talking like a couple of gentlemen. i left the car door open while i sat talking about the state of his bum leg when i noticed some creepy dude staring at us from about 5 feet away at my 2 o'clock. it was kinda dark so i asked paxton "is this dude staring at us?", it took him a minute to find this sneaky fucker, as he was positioned behind a telephone pole. as paxton confirmed my query the creepy fella came over to the car. he mumbled something like, "this is such a live neighborhood we live in" (his speech was pretty erratic, as was his stature) and how he's been here for four years and he plays percussion in a band. and apparently he lives just a few doors down from me. yay. for a fe

so the other night audrey and i decided to go hang out at mountain lake park. it was around 10pm and since there's no lights in the park we could barely see in front of ourselves. i even got nerdy and busted out the flashlight app on my phone. as we walked it sounded like we passed a group of hooligans that were hanging out on the tennis courts. this was confirmed when we could see their iphone screens dancing around in the dark. we went over to the kiddy section, where they just recently installed a new wooden jungle gym, which we climbed all over. we found a nice spot to hang out and took a few hits from my travel pipe and a few swigs from my flask (which then went into audrey's back pocket) then we slid down the fireman's pole. we roamed over to the swings and swung for a bit before staring at the pitch-black lake for a minute. that's about when audrey realized that the flask wasn't in her back pocket anymore, we assumed it must have popped out while we were on