During the Oktoberfest season of 2008, I received a purple potato from a very nice gentleman whose name I can not recount. That potato and I had many great adventures together, and until recently, shared a close relationship. Well, as a joke, I presume, another potato was given to me during the winter holidays of 2008. This potato was said to be a purple potato, but it was obvious that it was not. I also received a package of fruit gummy strips that mimicked the appearance of pork bacon, a package of terrified pickle charms, and some wine vacuum stoppers because I rarely drink the stuff and now it won't turn into vinegar as quickly in my fridge.
Now it's May 2009, and I find a bag in my always-tornado-stricken apartment. I open it up, peer inside, and find a number of holiday cards. "Hey," I say to myself, because I talk to myself a lot ... and I mean a lot, "it's my bag of holiday cheer! It's like finding Santa's bag of toys in my house! Oh joy!" I pull out some vacuum wine stoppers. Neat! I pull out my terrified pickle charms. Cool! I pull out gummy bacon. Um, OK! And I pull out a plastic bag with a little heft to it. Huh? I look inside, and this is what I see:
Potatoes will grow anywhere. Without light, without water. I don't think they're of this world.
Speaking of which, I live in a city called Sherman Oaks. I think it's over rated. But I love to walk to all the local conveniences, so I shouldn't complain. But one night, walking back after a late excursion, I passed something on the sidewalk. It was super dark, and I couldn't tell what it was, but I had a hunch at what it could be.
Now, some of you might already know. But I'm the curious type, and luckily I was close enough to the place I call home that I could grab my camera and go back to this unknown form on the ground. So, after switching on the flash, I got up real close-like, leaned in, hovering over the spot, trying to steady my horrible, picture-taking hand, and FLASH!
I didn't even look at the picture, what I saw for that quarter of a second that the flash illuminated on the curb was enough for me to freak out and dance around as if the whole ground were made of red-hot coals. That's why I now call this place Sherman Roaks.
Thursday, August 06, 2009
So I get an email the other day from an amazing artist named Shawna Dinnen who picked up our "Rock Paper Scissors" book at the Con. She drew her own take on Scissors in a speedo!
And check out her blog!
If anyone out there is interested in picking up a copy, you're gonna have to go straight to Frank or myself for one. So far, we're too lazy to get them out to any local shops, but I'll let yall know when we do. Thanks!