new digs

this is how the high-rise fancy-ass city living is going. views of hood, mt. saint helen's, ranier on a clear day and a constant parade of hobos 15 floors down.

just try to picture it without the rainbow sheet draped over the couch. it's much fancier.

pop up

third floor deck where all the watermelon launching and roman candle fights will happen. and yes, just inside the door, a mini fridge stocked with pine needle juice, aka fun nectar. also, little smokies. and that's what i'm talking about.

and to show all you earth haters what's what, there'll be a green roof. some call it an eco-roof. my take? giant cat box. yes, that i alone will be in charge of cleaning.

king of the pop up. really, it's me. but it's fun to let joren dream (hence the paper mache nail gun so he doesn't hurt himself).

deal of the century

i got this beauty on an errand to buy string-up work lights. but look! it's an old horseshoe! waaaay better than string-up work lights. it doesn't light the workspace quite as well as you might think, but look! it's an old horseshoe!

we're open for business 24/7

just like 7-11 without the slurpee machine. or a truckstop, but the bathrooms are marginally cleaner, and also fewer truck whores.

string up some lights and it's like a quiceanera! meets barn dance! meets that last scene in footloose! i mean, did that town really think they could stop ren from cuttin' footloose? idiots.

in tarp city, usa you've got to batten down the hatches. i like to call this particular inclement weather tarp exercise: "when it's all said and done, you might end up getting divorced or flying off the roof or riddled with severe cord burns". it's sort of like the trust fall where you fall back into a web of what you think are capable, trustworthy arms, but instead land in a pile of wood chips like i did at church camp in fourth grade.

because when jesus cries on our house, you've got to be ready.