The Eagle Has Landed.

Right on time for Zack's flight to NYC tomorrow, it's 60 copies of Study Group Magazine #1. I pulled more preview images and an excerpt from my Craig Thompson piece to run on the SG Tumblr and Facebook page prior to the issue's debut in Brooklyn this Saturday.

Sailor's delight

Couldn't get a good shot when the sun turned the sky a soft orangey gold, but these are still lovely. Yesterday.

Five Mile Tuesday

Slowly getting back into the swing of things.

Monday Night Neighborhood Mystery

There are now three shopping carts within eyeshot of my front porch. The Safeway and Grocery Outlet ones I can understand, but Target? Their nearest store is three and a half miles away and virtually impossible to traverse on foot.

Another stroll through the (dog) park

Still Monday.

The biggest substation I've ever seen across the street from a daycare center & church

I couldn't get them all into the same frame, there are so many of them. Taken Monday after our press check.

Tico Tico Tuesday: Roy Clark

It's somewhat disturbing the think about how much talent went into the making of the average episode of HEE HAW, a show that was much better than its reputation ever suggested. If Clark wasn't such a consummate/shameless showman, he'd be widely revered for his virtuosity.

Press Check 2: The Legend of Curly's Golden First Signature

While Zack and I got coffee, the Brown techs moved on to prep the first signature of the book, which looked sharp and clean -- the two things one can only sacrifice a virgin goat to Ba'al in the hopes of getting consistently across a print run.

In this wide shot of the press, you can see the plates that were used to strike the covers leaning against the railing:

Signature one, hot off the press:

In the above and below photos, you can see the roller drums laying down our beloved Pantone colors 7447 (deep purple) and then 7405 (old yeller), which will combine to make a rich, charcoal-ish brown. Two-tone printing is awesome.

I love the smell of Pantone ink in the afternoon, and press checks are the closest thing to adult-playground playdates this country has to offer. Huzzah for printing locally! Eat it, China and the asshole comics publishers (not to be redundant) who use them.

Press check!

Study Group Magazine Number One, people. The covers are printing as we type.

Classical Music Morning: Satie's Gymnopedie #1

There's a lot to be said for working out guitar arrangements of piano compositions.

[Speaking of which, let's park this amazing archive of Classical Guitar Tablature here for later reference.]

Waiting for the last chopper out of Saigon

Don't know what happened to this cart's pusher, but it smelled like Thanksgiving threw up half a stomachful of stuffing and burned doghair. Taken technically on Buy-Nothing Friday.

Thanksgiving at Ills'

That platoon of turkey soldiers was particularly hard hit by the shifting heat/cold/heat in transport, but were still tasty.

The Thanksgiving Project, Part One: "WHAT."

Those are cupcakes, but what's being done to them? WHAT. That ain't right, whatever it is …

The Thanksgiving Project, Part Two: JUDGMENT DAY

I know the nature of blogging ruins multi-post jokes by putting the punchline on top of the set-up in most readers. For once, I want to see a bit scroll correctly on the actual blog's page. I guess it's my Thanksgiving gift to myself. Skip to the next chronologically newer post and then come back if you really care about spoilers.


You're very sweet if you really care about not ruining one of my stupid "humor" posts.

Oh, you. You're just trying to flatter me now.

OK, last chance to avoid seeing what Elana and I made to bring to multiple Thanksgiving dinners tomorrow.


BEHOLD, our invincible army of turkey-shaped carrot-cupcakes -- each one a super-soldier made of candyshell-almond heads, black-icing eyes, caramel neck joints, gummiworm wattles, honey-pretzel necks, cream-cheese-icing and sparkle-sugar skin, carrot-cake bodies, raisin-and-pineapple organs, dark- and white-chocolate-dipped pretzel-stick feathers with shredded-coconut highlights!

The Company of these recruits has already been broken down into three platoons currently preparing to storm and hold three familial beachheads tomorrow afternoon. Wait, is Thanksgiving too late for a Veterans Day military reference? Who cares? I HAVE FOUR DOZEN TURKEY-SHAPED CUPCAKES I DO AS I PLEASE NOW.

Bah, those cretins at the culinary institute LAUGHED at my groundbreaking theories of cupcake construction! But they're pay for their insolence!! Oh yes, they'll PAY WITH WHAT WILL REMAIN OF THEIR PANCREAS-ES!!! THE SUN HAS SET ON ITS FINAL BATCH OF INSULIN, FOOLS!!!! HA HA HA HA HA!!!!!

Listen, and understand. These cupcakes are out there. They can't be bargained with. They can't be reasoned with. They don't feel pity or remorse. Or fear. And they absolutely will not stop, ever, until you are as wired on sugar and carbs as you will be drowsy on L-tryptophan tomorrow.

It turns out that the hardness of taking pictures in focus is directly proportional to how hard one is laughing while taking them. These are the least-fuzziest shots out of dozens I took. My face hurts.

"When you put your hand into a bunch of frosting that a moment before was your best friend's face, you'll know what to do."

Happy Turkey Day, peoples.

Tuesday Night Pizza, Wednesday Morning Brunch

A tasty [fine crust] pepperoni/onion/artichoke pie at the Rialto pool hall/cafe's trivia night, and an open-faced Monte Cristo with spiced maple syrup, a pair of chocolate potato doughnuts and the sui generis Cobb salad from Tasty and Sons. The wait time at Tasty was about 45 minutes; it seems we were not alone in assuming that it would be relatively uncrowded the day before Thanksgiving. I imagine it would have required a time machine to get a table at the Screen Door today.

Context is for the weak.

Plain, generic zinc pills, on the other hand, are for the cold-weakened immune system. Monday.

Five Mile Good Grief I Haven't Exercised In Three Days.

Dinner with Elana: Frank's Noodle House

Shanghai Baby Bok Choi

Cashew Chicken

I think I enjoyed the ambiance more than the food, but the food was good. Saturday.


Not my dog, but a welcome addition to the household. I think he looks like a wampa with those teeth and eye-goop rivulets, but some claim he's more of a falkor. All we know for sure is you can't resist imitating his pronounced underbite when you look into his sweet face. Photos taken Saturday.