Wednesday, February 25, 2009

Red Gerbil Extreme Getaway!

Snaps and Pix day here at Paul!

Let's see what's on the ol' chip, shall we?

Sometimes you'll be driving down the road and messages appear out of the fog.

And sometimes, answers.

It was a sign. No, I mean really, it was a sign. Furthermore the timing was eerily apt. Should I continue at my present breakneck pace or was it time to slow down? I snapped another picture to be sure.
DEAL WITH THIS. THIS WAS TOTALLY CHANCE. ARE YOU ALL TINGLY? BECAUSE I AM.
Clearly, God scoffs at posted speed limits! This is practically a divine mandate here!

Nothing I have ever endured as a melanin-challenged Native American can match the sorrow on this noble natives' pale face. Imagine his life if you can. Surrounded by a virtual bird ghetto, his head emitting some kind of...an emission, chest-television permanently tuned to the blue screen of death, standing next to the road in all kinds of weather, wearing an orange miniskirt with a big huge 'W' on it and his butt cheeks hanging out (butt cheeks which, as a result of nuclear testing in the late 60's, are located in front instead of in back.)


Primeval father-god of the Teletubbies? Postmodern totem? Any way you look at it this shit is just TRAGIC.


Breakfast food gone wrong.
Time: yesterday afternoon
Place: Squalicum Parkway, Bellingham, Washington

I called Blockbuster Video and no, they had no recently-released pancake films that they were promoting. This leaves us with a giant pancake in a miniskirt holding down a corner on the most notorious stroll in Bellingham.

Yes, I blame society.

When I describe Washington State as 'blue' I ain't just whistling Dixie, chicks. We are inclusive to a fault and tolerant as the day is long.

Yes, even if you're a British dyke and you aren't real picky how either adjective is spelled.

Of course now that I look at it again I wonder if it might be some kind of message: STOP DIKE BRITT! Or : BRITT DIKE STOP! You could take it a number of ways I guess. 'If you're british and a dike, stop' is a possible interpretation, as is 'Stop, dike britt' which could be like destiny telling you to pause for a moment in the midst of your dikey brittness. Actually, you need to go bug someone else about this because I have no friggin' idea what it means. Quit bothering me. Seriously. Can't you go play? Is your room clean? Maybe you should go ask your mom for something to do.

18 comments:

  1. Is there a Dick street further along Dike Street?

    If so, let me off at the corner.

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  2. Nope. But I can give you a ride to Kitchen Dick Road in Sequim, Washington, or Dyke Access road in Longview. We're tolerant, but we don't like to make things TOO easy. you have to commute around.

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  3. Anonymous8:23 AM

    Re the "Totem" .....

    Were I a member of a tribe with even ONE lawyer, I would issue a cease and desist order on that pitiful totem. I don't care if the local tribal chief's son sculpted the thing it is just uninspiring. Yeah art is supposed to make people think. I think this is awful. Retro

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  4. I think that's his knees.

    Sorry, no, room not clean, have to get back to it.

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  5. Kitchen Dick Rd makes me laugh and laugh and laugh every time we drive by it. WTF is a kitchen dick? It sounds like danger - weiner burns and whatnot!
    Don't forget, there is also the Kok Rd.

    And only W. WA is tolerant, when you cross the mountains, it's all "Fuck you, democrat Rd" and "git orf mah laaaand Dr".

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  6. anon: the first time I drove past this i almost gave myself a hernia laughing. its amazing, isn't it? some poor old german couple think its just the bees knees too. what the hell, its funny. terrifying, and funny.

    joeVegas: i thought so too...but they're so poochy-outy and round. and there was a lot of nuclear testing in oregon around that time.

    bitchy: you were born on Republican St. in seattle! (right in the middle of the intersection.) I think a kitchen dick is like a utensil. which is pretty enlightened of the early settlers when you come to think about it. a kitchen must have been a very lonely, and significantly more isolated place back in those days, i guess.

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  7. POOR OL’ KAW-LI-GA,
    HE NEVER GOT A KISS
    POOR OL’ KAW-LI-GA,
    HE DON’T KNOW WHAT HE MISSED

    THAT POOR OL’ WOODEN HEAD HE NEVER WENT NOWHERE
    What can I say, history is definitely re-written by the conquerors.

    God does scoff at Speed Limits because as you know they speak German in Himmel so therefore God created the Autobahn as a sign that we should drive however the hell we want to.

    Like David Bowie, I'm afraid of Merkins because 4/5ths of them believe in the God who approved those billboards. Personally, I can't wait for the Rapture..maybe once they're gone we'll finally have some Peace on Earth!

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  8. Donnn - since Fichte we know that the angels (die Engel!) speak German, because it is the "Ur-Sprache": Deutsch IST Englisch.

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  9. I would like access to Anthony Bourdain's underpants.

    Can you arrange THAT?

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  10. There is a Fart Street here - but I am worried about you using a camera whilst driving. On that note may I borrow your camera - I have a rare erection.

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  11. coppens: is that how that goes? i always thought his name was 'Kow-Lyjer'. honest injun.

    forgive me.

    mago: i can guarantee you that the english you have in mind and the english i speak are two different animals. and aint neither one of them gots anything ta do with Ur, yo.

    mj: what, you need an introduction? go hit it! apparently that's not as difficult as you might think now that he's back on the market. the question is: could he keep his snarky remarks to himself long enough for you to reach the right temperature?

    mr. the dog: i'll thank you to not direct traffic with that thing; you almost took out my windsheild. i thought there was a train coming through for heavens sake.

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  12. Poor Jesus. The responsibilities people assign to him. It's ridiculous. I thought of Duvall's The Apostle when I saw that billboard. "Jesus-ah!"

    PS There's a street in Huntington Beach, CA called Gothard. I always called it Got Hard. I was a rebel I tell ya.

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  13. Loved the signs. They have a resonance with a book I finished reading some time back, "On a Pale Horse" by Piers Anthony, (which I only bothered to read because I had heard that "Dead Like Me" had been based on the book.

    Now I wish I had read him years ago.

    And as for the Dick Street, I thought PKD was the most brilliant auther I had ever read. I have a shelf full of dick.

    And, on the shelf beneath, there's Moorcock.

    Why does nobody choose "cunt" as their pen-name?

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  14. Wasn't there a Dick van Dyke?

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  15. I wonder what drives a person to dress as a mini skirted pancake and frollick outside blockbusters.
    I may have to give it a try to find out

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  16. that's what happens when you live in the big city. when you live in the rural south like us normal people (i include myself only in that category), you only hear weird honking sounds and see the flashing lights of UFO's. pancakes in mini-skirts around blockbuster is unheard of. probably b/c we don't have a blockbuster.

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  17. gawd, sugar, you have made me smile! not an easy task today...bless your heart! xoxox

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  18. thank you FN! I'm having a really shitty week and those pics (and your commentary) actually made me laugh out loud! hx

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