Cerulean Vole: Flying Kill Terror of Bang!

This is not me. It is a cute lil' fat Indian, which kind of describes me, but it is not me. Sorry.

Someone bought this in Seaside, Oregon back in the 1920's. I'm not making the connection between a coastal town in Oregon and the Cherokee, or why anyone would have bought a souvenir of what at that time was a bunch of scroungy loggers and some fishing boats sinking into the mud; but onward...








Remember when the Health Department lady would come visit your class in grade school with a great big huge toothbrush and set of these choppers and proceed to demonstrate The Correct Way to Brush? I was busy thinking " Oh damn, I must own those!"
I do now.




What the-? Hey, leave shit alone.
No it's not valium.
Really.
Listen, it's not valium.

Ok fine, it is valium.






Are you hungry?
Oh, sure you are. It's no trouble, really.
Honestly. I'll make a sandwich.
No, it's no trouble at all, I mean it.

HAVE A FUCKING SANDWICH.





I found Rinty here at a storage unit sale. This was a tv lamp..it had lost its cord, though, and the moon-shaped piece of glass behind the dorg. But at one time, screw in a lighbulb, and voila! The ghost of Scooby Doo.
I remember people actually believing in these and using them.
I am REALLY OLD.






I can't cook a really great meal without the supervision of my buddy the Magnetic Dashboard Shriner. When he got lonely, I gave him a Plastic Dugong to keep him company. He used to have a girlfriend, the Cheap Red Magnetic Porcelain Naughty Naked Lady, but she keeps diving off behind the stove.





LOOK INTO MY EEEEEEEEEEEYES.
You cannot defyyyyyy my wiiiiill.
You must obeeeeeeeeey.
Regis Phiiiiiiiilbin must father your chiiiiiiiildren.







Sorry, were you thirsty?
We only have a little pop.

OH HA! IS SO MY LAUGHING HUMOR!
GET IT? A LITTLE POP!
IS LAUGHING MY FACE!

ahem.




This is all that remains of a collection I used to have of antique kitchenware. I had hundreds of items at one time. One day I looked around and thought to myself 'why am I nuts?' so I sold it.


















Well ok fine, this is left too.
But it works!
And theres a tomato on it.
Tomatoes rule.








Fine, yes, this too.

Would you like another sandwich?
Too bad.










Vital message space does not go to waste here at rancho FirstNations, as you can see.

"Eggs! Eggs! I love eggs! Oh hurry, hurry Mr. Egg Man, give me my eggs! I'm hongry!"






When the guy would come to refill the cigarette machines, back in the day, sometimes he'd drop off a premium. Here's one from a gas station.

I don't think they would let a real smoking dog hang around a gas station, do you?
That would be stupid.



Here are two more smokin' dogs.
This one is my girlie woof, Jett.
She is a GOOD GIRL. Yes, she IS.
GOOD GIRL JETT.
Without her we would be COMPLETELY AT THE MERCY of women pushing strollers and guatamalans playing soccer.
WHEW. We are SAFE.



This is my boy dog, Opie.
He is my TATER PIGGIE. He is also totally shocked that I took his picture.
He has just come in from tatoing around in the yard.
If the yard is not periodically tatoed in, it gets untatoey, and he has to go out and tato it up again.
Yeah, I'm a retard.


You know who else is retarded?
The person who thought it would be a really good idea to carpet a damn kitchen.



That was just some of the incredibly marvellous and fabulously valuable collectables from my kitchen.
Wow. It was exciting, wasn't it?
I know my little heart is going pitty pat.
Next time we will tour the outbuildings.
Or maybe the grocery store.
Now go away.