Greenway Art

Don't know who's responsible for these but they've been up since this spring and surprisingly nobody has fucked with them yet. Which is both respectful/cool and contrary to our recently stated feelings about art.


Contents of My Purse, Post-Iowa

Our girl Doomy is contributing enough stuff that we're not titling it Reader Submitted anymore. She's pretty much a member of the team at this point. Well anyway, this time she took the advice of something an anonymous internet commenter said about not feeling pressure "to write to lowbrow humor or ironic sexism to impress us"...and still ended up impressing us.

This is meant to be an homage to a spoken word cassette tape my friend Levi gave me in maybe 2002. I can't remember the girl's name nor can I find the tape. She was all punk rock and told stories about being a punk in 70s and 80s New York or LA. It was pretty cool. She had some weird name like Patience or Melody or something...

Contents of My Purse, Post-Iowa

Wallet containing six dollars and some odd change.
Cell phone, mostly dead.
Half a pack of camel light.
Black Bic pen.
Burt's Bees beeswax lip balm.
Toffifay candy, one left.
Toothbrush and toothpaste.
Burned copy of "Egowar" by Audio Bullys and "Attention" by Les Maledictus Sound
Roll of quarters.
A set of size 3 double point knitting needles.
One white lighter.
Two bottle caps
A toothpick.

UPDATE: Whoa, no idea how I remembered this, but the tape was Ruined by Pleasant Gehman!

I'm Faster Than My Shadow

Blew Monday: Travel$

top: Icicle River, Leavanworth, WA. bottom: Hwy 61, Two Harbors, MN.


my brain hurts today*

I'm going to break kayfabe here. In real life I'm a pretty nice guy. And I'm not a huge fan of real life violence. I like my shit in a contained sport environment like pro wrestling or MMA. BUT. Should you think it's a good idea to try to push and/or grab me off of my bike when I'm peacefully minding my own business, just pedaling along: well then, I'll do my best to fuck you up. And then after I cracked you in your jaw and you're snoring like a little baby, I'll let the adrenaline settle just long enough to take pictures of your knocked-out ass and put them on the internets.

*Screeching Weasel

Casual Fridays: Summer $kins

Operation Reno, Bigfork, MN, summer '99 or '00???


lets all go to the art $how

F.R.E.S.H. @Altered Asthetics, Mpls, MN

Scion Video Installation @Pink Hobo Gallery, Mpls, MN

Bowman & DWitt's Gone Bye Bye @Nicademus Art, St.Pl, MN


The History of Punk-Part 2

Compiled from more old shit...

I did a quick weekend budget plan before leaving work on Friday. I somehow managed to squeeze "getting the new Bad Brains disc" onto my post-it note spreadsheet.

Me plus record store equals me spending more money than I should.

After all, they may have an old Cinderella, Bullet Boys or Britny Fox record.

Purple Rain is one of the reasons I live in Minneapolis.

What keeps me young? Punk rock, hip hop, bikes, art, "the kids." Sound familiar? Same broken record…over…and over…and over…and over…and over…and over…

I Spent 7th grade trying to figure out how to get in chicks' pants.

Youth culture and an unceasing pursuance of the good times. It's my burden. "It's my cross to bear." Perhaps it will lead to my eventual downfall. Perhaps it already has. Like the sticker says: "It's all good."

Mpls, MN, circa fall 2005



reality doesn't mean a thing out here in candyland*

Recent found items.

*Screeching Weasel

Lake Lizard$

Lakes Hariet, Calhoun, Isles, Cedar & Brownie, Mpls, MN, 7/15/10


The History Of Punk

In no uncertain terms...

So all my shit looks like something that a seventh grade art student made.

Long story short; I waited downtown until 3:30 in the morning until some faux-punk bitch came and unlocked her bike from mine. I was not nice to her. I hope she made it home alright though because somewhere in those 3 hours of anger I found the time to unhook both of her brakes!

I crushed a few beers in the Kohl's parking lot and got fired up.

No pyro or motorcycles or carnival chicks. Just straight ahead rock-n-roll.

I left immediately following the concert on a suicide run to Bemidji. Got there by 2:30am. A couple beers and in bed (the floor) by 4am. Up at 9am and not back into bed (a chair) until 4am the next morning. What happened in between is a whole other story.

Tomorrow I have to help my friends move at 10am...
...but I had a hell of an evening: art show. good friends. beer. bar. beer. lesbians. art show again. bigger crowd. more good friends. more beer. cute girls. more beer. even more good friends. old flame. beer again. cute girls again. more good friends. free screen prints. good friends yet again. so much beer. rock-star kisses me on the cheek. good friends from out of town. intoxication. loud music. warm beer. pissing in inappropriate places. warmer beer. P.O.S. and Paper Tiger rock the crowd. drunk dialing. fast food drive-thru. road-kill. home. blog. spellcheck. bed.

A balding punker, sporting what looked like the beginning stages of an Amish style beard and wearing a leather jacket screamed at the top of his lungs "Yeah! Fuck Dallas, fuck the Cowboys and fuck Texas!" Then more quietly he added "Fuck George Bush too."

Walk away from a show with armloads of frozen meat.

Feeling exposed, he scrambled to change the topic. The record collection: a perfectly displayed mix of hipster and kitsch. As a product of his surroundings, he has no chance.

The only way I can make sense out of my current place in this world is to assume I'm being paid back for all the evil shit I've done in the past.

I smile when I see the excitement in their sweaty little faces when their favorite song comes on and they go charging into the pit. It reminds me of what it was like to be fresh to this thing. Some of these kids are the ones that will keep this shit going. Some will no doubt phase out and start listening to jam bands or other crap. That’s too bad, but to be expected. To those kids this is just a "youth phase." To others it will become a way of life. They will continue to dig deeper into the crates and commit to the genre; hunting down new bands and researching the history. That makes me happy. I'll admit sometimes it sucks, but, for better or worse, it will forever to be 'All Ages'...

Compiled from select writings, photos and art from '06-'07. AKA The MySpace years.