Grimey Retarded

If

2011-10-11T15:10:00.004-05:00

If
you write
words
like
this

it does not
necessarily me-
an

it is

g
o
o
d.
or good, as in,
robin williams' monologue

good.

it will never be a
belt made out of
nipples

but
if the words
at least
dance
across the page

or
are in the shape of
a tree

then the 30 seconds

or the 30 days
it took

aren't
that much
of a
w
a
s
t
e
.

so,
boy

don't feel bad about
your
penthouse
prescription

any - more
.

you earned it.

fuck y'all

2011-08-10T12:06:00.001-05:00

Karen Dalton

2011-05-15T06:18:00.002-05:00

In My Own Time(1971)

Henry "Ragtime Texas" Thomas

2011-04-21T20:46:00.002-05:00

some texas gold, 20's style.

Download

Silian Rail, Wednesday, El Rio, SF, Ca

2011-04-04T01:09:00.000-05:00

Silver Jews discography

2011-03-30T20:20:00.010-05:00

Download if you're lonely tonight..

Starlite Walker(1994)

The Arizona Record(1993)

The Natural Bridge(1996)

American Water(1998)

Bright Flight(2001)

Tennessee EP(2001)

Tanglewood Numbers(2005)

Lookout Mountain, Look Out Sea(2008)

i miss you DALLAS

2011-03-30T02:48:00.000-05:00

I passed the thirteenth floor
the CPR was so erotic
a blizzard blew in through the door
and little glowing cum buckets in her ankles

O Dallas you shine with an evil light
O Dallas you shine with an evil light
How did you turn a billion steers
into buildings made of mirrors,
and why am I drawn to you tonight?

Once you taste the geometry of a church in a cul-de-sac
you're gonna want to sit with the bad kids in the back
Cruising down Commerce
killing time in the blazing sun
Is it true your analyst was a placekicker for the Falcons?

We saw B.B.King on General Hospital
in the Oak Cliff dramhounse where we stayed
and when Clancy whipped her with his belt buckle
he cleaned her cuts and then we prayed
O Dallas you shine with an evil light
Don't you know that God stays up all night?
And how did you turn a billion steers
into buildings made of mirrors,
and why am I drawn to you tonight?

Watching the makeup girls make out with the mannequins
"Hey boys, supper's on me, our record just went aluminum"

Poor as a mouse every morning
rich as a cat every night
Some kind of strange magic happens
when the city turns on her lights

southside

2011-03-28T19:52:00.000-05:00

LAST.FM

2011-03-23T19:38:00.001-05:00

ADD ME ON LAST.FM

RANDLEMCMURPHY

well....

2011-03-15T02:40:00.001-05:00

this is how a woman's snatch is supposed to look....
good grief......

clothes on the bed

2011-03-14T04:12:00.000-05:00

geneva jacuzzi is so foiiinnneeee

Clothes on the Bed by Geneva Jacuzzi from Eric Fensler on Vimeo.

Burzum - Fallen

2011-03-07T21:58:00.003-06:00

NEW BURZUM NEW BURZUM NEW BURZUM

FALLEN (2011)

Galaxie 500 discography

2011-03-03T22:38:00.005-06:00

been drinkin' lots of beer and crying to these albums. join me in my spiral down from the cliffs of the days misfortune, on down to the valleys of drunken tears. bring booze.

Today(1988)

On Fire(1989)

This Is Our Music(1990)

J Mascis - Several Shades of Why

2011-03-03T22:17:00.001-06:00

New J Mascis acoustic album released on Sub Pop

LOVELOVE

2011-02-22T03:44:00.001-06:00

finally

2011-02-03T18:03:00.002-06:00

tugboat

2011-01-24T03:20:00.000-06:00

havin' it my way

2011-01-18T23:20:00.001-06:00

Yaddle* flesh light kit

2011-01-17T05:09:00.003-06:00

yodayaddleyodaYaddle

"mama there goes that man"

2011-01-13T03:35:00.003-06:00

HAHA

2011-01-13T00:09:00.003-06:00

/free tacos/free beer/

2011-01-12T23:41:00.002-06:00

if

2011-01-11T19:26:00.002-06:00

if i could fuck a mountain
lord i would
fuck
a mountain
and i'd do it
with a woman
in the
valley

almost living

2011-01-09T20:09:00.001-06:00

And when I talked to my friends
And found out that you're having fun
That you're swallowing life
That you're in the sun
That you're fucking around
You're growing a new one
I bellow out my voice
I yell out loud
I have my shirt off in front of a crowd
I tell em about you, and how you're gone.......

But in my lying
Don't I have you in my mind the entire time
Yeah, I can leave all the places we went
But I can't leave without my bones you bent
So I hobble along
And now it's me who's gone
And now it's me who has your fear of opening hearts
And all the false starts we could tear apart
With this deep gouging biting back
With this way that you get all my friends in the sack
But whats left?
I scream as I look up at night
Where the novelty has worn off of your light
What gives? and I roll on the ground
Who cares? I yell and there's no answering sound
And there's nobody around
And then my answer was found

in the night

2010-12-27T13:58:00.001-06:00

santa's bornday?

2010-12-25T21:09:00.000-06:00

miller

2010-12-24T19:08:00.001-06:00

gary fuckin' wilson

2010-12-24T16:36:00.001-06:00

RIP Cpt. Beefheart

2010-12-19T19:10:00.003-06:00

goodnight, sweet man.

listen

2010-12-19T14:07:00.000-06:00

yes

2010-12-11T18:36:00.000-06:00

FREE ASSANGE

2010-12-07T04:39:00.002-06:00

F
R
E
E

A
S
S
A
N
G
E
.

ANTI HERO

2010-12-02T23:00:00.003-06:00

Friends and I skating portland

2010-12-02T21:22:00.001-06:00

Tom Waits discography

2010-12-02T19:29:00.021-06:00

i think sometimes this ends up looking like a Tom Waits fan blog, but hey, he's a stud and my favorite artist. i'm gonna post his discography here, no compilations though, straight albums. get wet with this special blend of rugged suaveness you'd find in a southern california trash bend:

Closing Time 1973

The Heart of Saturday Night 1974

Nighthawks at the Diner 1975

Small Change 1976

Foreign Affairs 1977

Blue Valentine 1978

Heartattack and Vine 1980

One From The Heart Soundtrack 1982

Swordfishtrombones 1983

Rain Dogs 1985

Franks Wild Years 1987

Night on Earth Soundtrack 1992

Bone Machine 1992

The Black Rider 1993

Mule Variations 1999

Blood Money 2002

Alice 2002

Real Gone 2004

Orphans: Brawlers, Bawlers, and Bastards 2004 Disc 1 Disc 2 Disc 3

greatest skate photo ever taken

2010-12-01T22:31:00.004-06:00

via GonzCardsandStranger.tumblr.com

t. starks advice

2010-12-01T22:21:00.000-06:00

baller status

2010-11-30T21:24:00.001-06:00

bewildered herd.

2010-11-30T06:03:00.002-06:00

Read Media Control by Chomsky

download

2010-11-29T20:04:00.004-06:00

haven't posted any music for download in a while. david axelrod. here we are.

1968

1969

read some of these:

2010-11-29T02:52:00.002-06:00

lenny

2010-11-26T03:12:00.001-06:00

thanks

2010-11-25T11:32:00.000-06:00

thanks for the wild turkey and passenger pigeons destined to be shit out through wholesome american guts.

barriers of thirst

2010-11-23T00:16:00.000-06:00

technical.

2010-11-22T23:12:00.002-06:00

In a wee small hour of unconsciousness, my mind was raped with the dicks of envy.

Henry Miller Asleep and Awake

2010-11-22T06:02:00.000-06:00

don't you know?

the price of eggs

2010-11-22T02:02:00.002-06:00

too adorable

2010-11-20T00:56:00.002-06:00

y'all

2010-11-17T22:42:00.002-06:00

my right thigh. homage to the south, y'all.

donna and audrey

2010-11-17T02:49:00.002-06:00

in here.

2010-11-16T04:56:00.003-06:00

you are a monger of nitrile gloves, i've seen them. how many glasses are there in here? all broken and stained with body. the gloves wrapped around them stretched with no more fingers. a sweet little mexican boy doing all the wrong things for you. he's too young to be learning in here. what's that sound he's making? the sound of a body farm, a decomposition note here, a list of body limbs there. what's going to happen in here? the scratch of the notes, the touch of the steam up against the iron wrapped around your hairless shins. why are you letting me do this to him in here? he's scared like us. when we were younger and slimmer and once in here, alone. we are a davidian's tail away from our serpent intercourse. the nature of slime and under water we have known when we were here. the crouching and the floor, the lack of carpet or restraint, the terminology of our bodies only known by me and you and the dirt caked between us. we were filthy in here. then we were older and much more sore with one another. we never talked in here anymore. we need the gasoline in here, keep quiet and the little boy won't hear us. cover it in gasoline and take the hotel match and bite your tongue. stare in the window and cover your fists with gloves. light the match out here and throw it in for me to watch. ignotum per ignotious. he's younger than you and me and even younger than our reptilian greed. his mother is waiting for him, i buried her under the house.

amazing

2010-11-15T00:06:00.000-06:00

that boy aaron is wild

2010-11-09T02:51:00.001-06:00

it's my born day

2010-11-07T20:25:00.001-06:00

so listen to this with me and nevermind the video

not a visit

2010-10-30T18:10:00.001-05:00

i just moved to San Francisco. that is all.

unfuckwithableness personified

2010-10-24T22:27:00.002-05:00

i'm sorry fairies, but you're not fucking with Texas on this one.

better than your last blow job, whenever that was

2010-10-14T22:12:00.001-05:00

youtube-ism

2010-10-12T15:09:00.002-05:00

killin' it

2010-10-11T21:37:00.002-05:00

street hassle.

2010-10-10T16:19:00.001-05:00

hanging klansman

2010-10-05T14:53:00.001-05:00

stipulations of blunder.

2010-10-04T23:05:00.007-05:00

bell-timer snuck off in the night. click click click click. rush rush.

A married couple find themselves suffocating in a trunk of 1975 Buick. it ain't pink and it definitely isn't the honeymoon. a straight man with a hemorrhoid problem walks by and thinks it's a family of Christmas trees dying of root withdrawal. he was always a thinker, principal guinea pig and ms. crab ass used to say about him. names-classified, for reputation purposes and insight propaganda.

the bell-timer loses its footing and falls off the kitchen sink. the damn boy never does the job RIGHT.

the Buick owner is in the parlor bathroom flushing the toilet and sipping on terrible wine he stole from an empty table. he sees an ant on the seat and crushes it with his knee, just like the females like it. he slips back into the parlor and goes to the bar unnoticed. no friends, just a couple gag gifts in the trunk of the car. he's a firm go getter and ball breaker. he bowled when he was younger but got his pecker stuck in a 10 inch sized ball hole and never recovered from the embarrassment. he's not a testicle guy, hates the sight of his package even though it's like a pair of left over eggs and not a set of bowling balls. always thinking but never getting it right. write that down. the inside of his jeans smell like a disrespected oyster bar. the kind you'd find a man who takes the train to work and reuses the same ticket over and over owns. his words don't come out frequently or without a kick. he's a yeller and a squealer but it's never to anyone's payment of mind. he'd go further in life than his taxi hut job (where he cleans the cum off the seats the drivers are too high class to handle) but he's got a father who now takes it up the ass and the strict ruler he was usually straightened out with got sold in a garage sale to help pay for his new church clothes. goddamn that mom of his, he's got no direction, just a couple traffic lights he sees on the way around town. he goes back and forth to his work and the parlor where no one hardly notices him. there's 4 men on staff every night but he gets served twice if he's lucky, and three times if he's wearing that bright jacket he wore in high school that the old gang of youth-mules tossed mud on when he was batter up in a pick up game in the breaking hours of school in 89'. his round of choice at the bar side is a dark one if he can afford it or make it to happy hour on time and then a light one so he can feel good about his weight and hope to fuck that pretty little blonde head that works the counter where he buys his marlboros and gas from. after the second beer, while waiting and hoping he gets served a third, he'll spike up conversation with the nearest bar stool humper.
"been coming to this bar for the past 6 months, and i'll tell you it's a lot better than that spill hut on 5th and berkeley"
he stares at this woman's mirror reflection directly ahead of them both. the near menopaused saggy pancake tit'd woman (of possible extraterrestrial origin) sips her dimly lit beer then responds,
"yeah, that is true you know. I used to work the second shift at St. Josephs hospital right around there, I'd get off around midnight and slide in there for a crucifixing buzz....the boys in that bar were always too much of a rascal tandem for me to deal with....not sure why...maybe it was the hour"
ol skipper slipped up and said
"with tits like yours, honey, I wouldn't be surprised the whole town acted a bit loopy, you already remind me of pancake breakfast"
the beer slammed down and the stool screeched and he was left with himself again. Ahh fuck it all, I got 2 little pigs in the oven of my car, what do I need to hang my self with a hag for, he thought. he hoped one of them somehow had braces, but they were over 24, so he stopped thinking and flopped down some cash and headed for the door. He gets outside, breathes in the night humidity east Texas always offers and marches to the car where he lays his ear on the trunk in efforts to hear something human. He thinks he hears some breathing but he can't be sure, fuck it, they've been in there for hours, probably dead like hopes were planned for.

Driving home he notices bugs fly by and pays attention to the road like a good driver should. His thoughts are on pancakes and strap-ons.

He pulls in his driveway.

He lives in a trailer that was once a house of meth and math problems. An old math teacher from the local high school was caught cooking meth in this house just 2 years ago. He bought it from the county auction with help from his weak mother who he barely speaks to but coined up enough precious talk for getting him on his feet and his lack of proper childhood affairs, that ol' sad story. He pulls around back, though it's not much needed, no one lives within a hundred yards of his lot, and the road he lives off of is rarely used by anyone other than himself and that wretched fuck of a landscape artist that lives down the way towards the dead end. The trunk is popped open. The couple, the one in his trunk, the lovebirds that they were, beaten like future rednecks, tied up like hogs, gagged like whores, tricked by an online scheme of a Buick for sale ad, had managed to fornicate in this situation. The near two hundred pound slime round of a man had managed to stuff his uncut dick into the entrance of his wife's cunt. Our skipper stepped back and laughed and turned around and said "what in the devil's red dick?" and smiled and wiped his eyes. He then scooped the pathetic pale bloodless pecker out of the crater excuse of a cunt that was dead in his trunk.

The bodies were carried in.

He took an old scratched AOL 6.0 disc from his desk and snapped it in half. He used this to cut the ties that helped keep these fucks captive. He had already prepared a broom stick earlier. It was broken in half and situated straight up in his living room floor, being kept sturdy in the middle by weights from his bench set and ropes connected to a leg of his couch and a leg of the bench. She's stripped to bare breasts and cold curtains. He mounts the pale tear crusted wife onto the broom by way of her anus. Though dead, the skip still felt the pain it caused the body, so he was quick and paid no attention to the sounds of the broom settling pass the anus entrance and up in to the stomach. She's now put into Indian style position and tied up again to keep the position. Her ass cheeks are 4 feet off the ground. The slob is still dead on the floor, he's not part of the ritual. He was never supposed to show up in the original script. Only fucktards re-write their stories, so the skip kept the man out of play and the woman centered. The pot belly was to be used as the bell-ringer stand. Where was that bell ringer? In the kitchen he went, like an alter boy sliding back to the foyer of the church. A ring shot across the floor away from him. He had kicked the bell-ringer. The bell-ringer was a signal he used to end his practice with his friends. It reminded him of home, reminded him of the origin of straw stacks placed on camel's backs. Reminded him of the effigy he burned just last year, one of a common man, no one in particular. The bell was placed to it's time and was ready to ring, 15 minutes. He tossed it on the man's belly and sat down on two cushions directly 4 feet in front of the hoisted body he had earlier suffocated and mounted on an old broomstick. His pants slid off, his hat tossed hoping to cover the dead man's dead pecker (he missed), his shirt unbuttoned and tied around his head. He started to stroke himself and recite a line from a book he didn't know much about but could very much remember

"Your conscience is the measure of your honesty of your selfishness. Listen to it carefully."

He stared into the one open eye of the dead mounted bitch, it had lost it's color, it was something boring but it was dead, so his dick head turned swollen and purple. A stolen eyelash from the dead girl was then tossed into his dick hole by his other hand. A sort of homage to the attractiveness the live girl once owned. He recited the line over again, switching it up.

"Your excretement from the asshole is the measure of your honesty of your selfishness. Listen to it carefully"

"Your melting penis is the measure of your honesty of your selfishness. Listen to it fully"

"Your ex-lovers waste is the honesty in which selfishness roots. Listen to it painfully"

RING.
RING.
RING.
RING.
RING.
The timer rings and as he's been trained and practiced to do, a shot of semen flys out of the barrel of his 5 inch penis and with the eyelash it lands in the jungle of bush the girl has grown and he thinks of the time when he was much smaller and he thinks of the time when his dad went one way and he thinks of the time when he was mailed a letter from his pen pal and he thinks about the time when he made people smile and he times himself four times his worth and he still gets no time from anyone and he's a timeless old soul who could make for a scarecrow in any day and age and the time comes when you've got to quit and the time comes when you find fucked up ways to please your sexual needs in a timely fashion. The time is always wrapping the skip and it's wrapping me and you and everyone of us, we'll swim out when our time comes and be together in a time where there's no need for any of us at all, and true measurements will fall in our laps no matter the wrong we've done in this little place and time.

suction or falling.

2010-10-03T23:25:00.005-05:00

Her perineal sponge was outlined like Alexander's Star. The blood vessels did the drawing, wrapping around the tissue. Once proud and on guard, the door way of her lower half, her labia, was now wrinkled and needed to be flat ironed out until they were almost like the wings of a moth. The minor and the major, were both equally sized now. Her crotch could now be depicted as being much like a chipped hatchet wound a Pole found salvation with during the second world war. When I caught her in her late teens, her legs were of the most pleasant dreams. Her entrance, the magnum opus, final stage, beautiful encore, of evolution. I traveled miles for it, more miles than wrinkles she now homes below. The Italians must have a word for a pearl like this, but I'll never know it. Her legs like safety belts you could actually count on. And when her hair grew out, her too lazy to shave, you'd act as if it wasn't as good as the bald catch, but deep down you loved it just as much. No one looks worse under the covers. Reaching below her waistline, running your tips across the inside of her thighs, your favorite part of the day. Now you flirt with her door way, it was a classic door way, one full of prominent structure, one that was proud of what it closed in. But these days the door's never locked, and there's not even a bell. But in my day, in my simple way, I loved the entrance, I'd rustle through the bush, walk up the strip, and jump right in, never forgetting to take off the worn out shoes. Other parts of my body envied my fingers, and with just cause, but they understood their place all the while. Not many vaginas are worthy of a man's lingual veins and mouth muscle, but we all know when one is damn suitable for entry. Like a drunken man's arm trying to flag down a bartender, your tongue goes round and round, but this motion gives back, not demands. It's forever relaxing and suiting when you're greeted with moaning sensation, you've made your freshwater princess climax. The penis is too easy to please, but a woman's time and a woman's parts are not. This is one time when slobber on your chin is something you can look up and be proud of. No hop or stretch in the world can come close to this one. You can spout out the dick, but when a man receives pleasure from tongue or limb insertion that's not the downwards main vein, you know this is something, dare it be said, special. This is something people like to call love, but I'll never label a thing so great anything again. A lot of animals like to say love is not having to pay when it's all done. I've heard love even claimed as when a partner doesn't scream NO, these are scum a scum like myself can't even relate to. You'd hate to include bad mouthing to such a thing, but I've always had a niche for admitting the defeat of something. Like the conquering sun, like the bones and flesh of our bodies, everything must fall.

unfuckwithable

2010-09-29T01:47:00.002-05:00

sergeant highway

2010-09-28T19:48:00.001-05:00

small change outtakes

2010-09-24T01:19:00.002-05:00

terror ski

2010-09-23T16:49:00.002-05:00

fuckin' dead, man. real fish squeel. fish drowning, too much hop. skip down the broad street drunk as a cow on uncle tom's white piss. i'm calling myself to the bed full of bugs, the bed with the tv sprung on high and lingering 3 feet below the bed. ain't no puzzle here, all taste. can your monkey sing to your dog? play the keys in a chicago night hall all zipped up on charlie and whiskey. talent. straight talent, no evolution needed. applaud.

finger cameo/incarceration stun gun

2010-09-11T17:55:00.006-05:00

day 3 of trip excerpt, arrested, reckless conduct, tad insight. here.
got arrested for being around my friends while they skated in downtown chicago, i sat on my board but got hauled in. "reckless conduct" is what i'm charged with. flying back to chicago on the 20th to deal with this little devil. funny thing is i was by the river in downtown second city and the boat cops came through. some street kids started yelling from the bridge and they mistook those curse words as coming from us. they hopped on land and hand cuffed a buddy of mine for saying "fuck off" or something. i sat watching and then the cop started being tough guy with my friend and handling him wrong. so i said "come on man talk to us like normal people, stop with the alpha dog routine" he was pissed, yelped to his minions for another set of cuffs, i should of this should of that but i opened my mouth instead. lucky me. he marched us on to the boat and started talking all kinds of trash to us spouting that we were whats wrong with america, that i looked feminine and was going to get fucked in my ass hole tonight in county. real skeez ball this guy was and his pitiful crew. dude took us to the fucking marine/helicopter quarters where they were stationed. this is about 8 pm. they skin us down to about nothing, cop routine. the mother fucker pockets my grandfathers pocket knife i've had since he passed away. i'll never see that again. he puts us in a cop suburban and rushes us to downtown county, we almost wreck on the way and buddy squeals like a little girl to the driver when it happens. pussy fucker. get into county, it's a mess. young black disfranchised individual yelling for water and christ. bunch of basic movie type jail situations going on. i get fed turkey bologne and a cup of water, but luckily they are issuing out single cells so i'm not roped in with a bunch of heads. by the way this whole time i've been handcuffed to a buddy i had just met about 3 days before this so it was quite the bonding time. in this cell, they gave me no toilet paper. i took to punching the air and to doing pushups to stay warm. it was unnecessarily freezing. theres a big window on the door and the guard passes by frequently but i decided to masturbate anyways. i beat it to a kaleidescope of pictures i had stained in my brain from various sexual encounters i have had. i leaned over from the bench and busted straight on to the floor, got some water poured it on the semen and then took the sole of my shoe and wiped it to the corner of the cell so it wasn't noticeable. i rinsed off my sole and put it back in my shoe and tried to see how many nba champions/mvps i could think of starting since the celtics dynasty. later, we get out at 4 in the morning, released with a bunch of Lollapalooza fence jumpers from the suburbs of Chicago. real pussy chumps they all were being on the route to the bus stop. get in to my friends apartment walk up the stairs about about 5 30 and see the remains of a huge feast and tons of empty classy beer bottles, those son of a bitches. i took some seroquel and slept all damn day. take in mind this is day 2 in chicago, the real start of the trip.

i'll drool some more random stories from the trip here and there.

grimey retarded revisited

2010-09-10T22:49:00.002-05:00

i'm back, and shit.

my motherfuckin' jam on this road trip

2010-08-13T01:20:00.000-05:00

hiatus

2010-08-01T18:59:00.002-05:00

going on a month long trip across the u.s., updates will be scarce or even nonexistent.

can't fuck with us

2010-07-22T20:16:00.001-05:00

boner

2010-07-21T23:19:00.000-05:00

mistaken wedding

2010-07-19T01:51:00.000-05:00

templeton

2010-07-18T21:00:00.000-05:00

the best

2010-07-16T01:27:00.001-05:00

everybody knows this is nowhere.

2010-07-13T19:53:00.004-05:00

Cellski

2010-07-09T17:16:00.003-05:00

that good ol' good shit.

Mr. Predicter

hey hey my my

2010-07-04T15:14:00.001-05:00

dead man

2010-07-03T15:55:00.002-05:00

Dead Man Soundtrack

Maybe Logic.

2010-06-28T23:22:00.001-05:00

Jacques

2010-06-24T15:19:00.001-05:00

back from the trails, settlin' down for a few weeks down south, on the road again, on the post again.

unfuckwithable

2010-06-19T02:52:00.000-05:00

been on the road...

disposable laxative

2010-06-10T00:31:00.007-05:00

::::::

2010-06-09T19:58:00.001-05:00

ariel

2010-06-08T23:18:00.000-05:00

Ariel Pink's Haunted Graffiti - "Bright Lit Blue Skies" from gorillavsbear.net on Vimeo.

i'm takin' tha chicken outchya cah

2010-06-08T23:16:00.001-05:00

TOMBOY hype

2010-06-08T00:30:00.001-05:00

Kurt Vile

2010-06-06T01:11:00.003-05:00

Square Shells EP

haha

2010-06-02T22:25:00.000-05:00

skullflower

2010-06-02T00:37:00.002-05:00

Skull Flower's Form Destroyer 1989

Goodbye Hopper

2010-05-29T20:56:00.002-05:00

If you check this blog out you've probably noticed a sprinkle of Dennis Hopper showing up here and there for the year I've been fucking with this site and it's because I absolutely adore the man. He is just unfuckwithable and it's very upsetting to know he won't be sharing earth with me. Rest in peace, sweet prince.

jacobssey

2010-05-28T22:40:00.000-05:00

huh

2010-05-28T17:10:00.001-05:00

Dennis McGrath

2010-05-27T00:16:00.001-05:00

Dennis McGrath for HUF from HUF on Vimeo.

gutter

2010-05-26T14:44:00.001-05:00

epic

2010-05-26T01:12:00.000-05:00

sideshow bob gets crunk

2010-05-25T23:10:00.000-05:00

backyard's bangin' like a benzy

2010-05-25T22:36:00.000-05:00

absurd

2010-05-24T23:10:00.001-05:00