angel just stopped by. my neighbor. doug's wife, i think. anyway, i've hit the pipe once or twice. i have a few beers in me. my mind is electric. we're downstairs, bob and i. we're setting up the studio. off site practice last night. i hear a tapping. bob hears a tapping. "is that someone at the door?" "i dunno." i wander upstairs, and there's angel. "hey angel, how's it going?" "do you live here?" "yeah" "oh you're nate, right?" "yeah." "oh, i can't see you through this door." right. i step outside. she has a big bandage over her nose. cigarette in hand. big ol' pupils. "oh this. i had some cancer. it's nothing." her nose. i was thinking someone broke it, but whatever, that works. "so, do you put rat poison in your yard?" she blurts. "uh, no?" "because my dog keeps getting sick. eating the rats. you don't put rat poison out in your yard?" "uh, no. i don't poison anything." "oh, ok. because my dog eats the rats." "ok? is it puking and stuff?" "oh yeah, it pukes all the time. like a cat. used to just kill the rats, but now it's eatin' em. pukes up hair and heads and whole bodies." "shit. nasty." "yeah, i'm cleaning that shit up all over the place. so i'm thinking about big piles of ratfilled puke in her house. nasty. "so, if it bothers you that the dog is eating your rats, i can put up a wire or something." "what?" "the dog, comes into your yard and eats your rats. if it bother's you we can put something up over there. where it gets in." "naw, i don't care." at this point she makes some excuse about having to go ask the other neighbor if he poisons his rats. she stumbles off. it fucking blew my mind.

do you have rats in your yard, nate?

hm. apparently. i had one in my house but i killed it.

Did you eat it?

Did you puke?

well. i didn't puke.

You dirty rats.

is the problem the dog or the rats? broken nose broken logic. you should invite her over sometime nate.

she's psycho. the problem, i think, was the dog puking. but i think she might have thought i liked my rats, or something. it was rather fucked up.

keep a journal of interaction. play tricks. Lil Bastard Kit of General Mischief

what?!?!?! you don't like your rats?

the ones that gnaw on my house? no. i'm not going to fuck with doug and angel. i have to live next to them.

Ok. As I was posting, there was a knock on my door. I sneak up quietly to the peephole. I have my suspicions that it's him. It is. My neighbor. Ed. The male nurse who collects guns. I ignored the first knock. Maybe he'll think I'm not home and just go away. No such luck. He knocked again. If I hadn't answered the door, he would have just kept knocking. I open it but I keep my eyes half closed and pretend like I just woke up. "Whhaat?" "You ok?" "I was sleeping. You woke me up." "Oh." "What's the problem?" At this point I notice he's holding three video cassettes in his hand. "Thought you'd want these?" "What?" "These. Shit I don't need." "What are they?" "Heart operation tapes. You know I'm a nurse. Someone gave them to me. I don't need em. Thought you'd want em." "Uhmm. Nope. Thanks tho. Take care. Bye." I shut the door. And I can almost guarantee he stuck them in the recycle bin he keeps outside the door. So I'm reading a bit about crazy neighbors and then I get my crazy neighbor. Irony. Thanks a lot Nate.

ok. so i'm responsible for this, too? jesus christ. you all are whacked.

i'm tired and it's all your fault

that's reasonable. i'll take responsibility for that.

That was very courteous of her to want to be in touch with your feelings for your rats.You just don't find neighbors like that these days. The fates have been good to you,Nate.

my ass hurts nate. way to go man.

i think i'm developing a bunion. thanks a lot you dick.

of course your ass hurts, patrick. what did you expect? that's not a bunion, kalli. it's a blister. it will go away when the source of friction goes away.

tenderness nate, tenderness. hopefully your mailbox will be a full on today. do you have one of those big farm house mailboxes....the kind you could put a box of cereal in?

no, i don't. but the mailcarrier is creative. she'll put shit next to the mail box. and since i live in the middle of nowhere, no one fucks with my shit.

We have mailbox abusers in the area I live in.But I always have the last laugh. My mailbox is a mile away from my home,and so is essentially unattended.Since I bought my house,there has been an ongoing rash of mailbox bashings all up and down the road.Probably 4-6 times a year,they come thru,and just smash all the mailboxes to smitherenes.I'm talking probably 12 to 18 mailboxes get smushed each outbreak. But not mine.I have the INVINCIBLE mailbox from hell![unfortunately,I can't take credit for its mail-worthyness,cause it came with the house]But its a badass mailbox.Solid.I mean REALLY solid.All the other wimpy mailboxes are rendered completely useless,smushed so you couldn't slip a stamp in,but mine is still standing proudly,[albeit ugly].Twice they have managed to knock it over [in 10 years],but this requires the use of a truck with alot of power.When it gets knocked over,I have to get a tractor with a chain to raise it back up. I giggle gleefully,as I envision these crazy,drunk Cajuns out on their maibox mashing rampages,swinging wildly with their baseball bats,and bashing the other boxes,like gnats on a knee. And then they hit mine!Yooow.You know it has to hurt.I just wish I could be there to see the look on their pathetic faces,and the dents in their fenders,when in blind anger,they think they'll just knock it over in the ditch,by ramming into it with their car. Hmmp,maybe there is a God,after all.

there was an article in a recent issue of the Atlantic about (nearly) invincible mailboxes. i always liked the sledgehammer/rotating mailbox technique. when you smack the mailbox it pivots, swinging the sledgehammer around (hopefully into your rear window.)

My mail box sucks and we are encouraged to mail money orders or checks through a postal outbox,I had to walk a half a mile to send in my mail to mail art,LAST SUMMER,I thought I was gonna die.

Where I grew up in MA, the kids used to come by and smash mailboxes. All the boxes on my street were on this big wagon wheel at the bottom of the hill... haven't thought about that in ages. Now my mailbox is in the entrance to my apartment and my mailman knows me by name and waves to me daily.

MMMMMMMMmmmmmmmailartttttttttttttttttttt.

i got it patrick. it's fucking awesome.

spider...yours should be along anyday now to. yeah....mailart....mailart mailart mailart mailart.

Patrick, I have to see my brother before you can get yours.....this weekend, hopefully.

really, don't feel like you need to send me something, because i sent you something. no matter. i was reminding nico about the leaves you sent us a few years ago.

Hey, I want to! I remember the leaves....I'm glad you liked them. I have your picture of Judah Bauer thumbtacked to the wall in my living room.

MAILART! I have a postal box from hell--it randomly eats my mail.

ahhhhhhhhhhhhhhhfuck. Here's the deal. I am trying to finish this big project that I should have finished long ago, 600 hand printed and bound books. It is harder and far more time consuming than I had any concept of. I got in way over my head. I have to finish them in the next couple of weeks, as the money that I get for them needs to go immediately to Cleo's school, to whom we owe much money and is the source of much family distress. When I finish the books, I will immediately jump on the mail art. I want the mail art contribution I am making to be really good, and I can't make it good until the books are done. I promise it will be soon. You are all making me feel terribly guilty, but you will just have to wait. MAMA STOP THE VOICES IN MY HEAD!

I'm sorry for nagging you, Agatha. I apologize for any feelings of guilt I have caused.

yeah its no worry.

too late. it's okay, i deserve it.

"i deserve it" see? thats what i mean. stop that.

well, come on patrick. i mean, it's been almost a year.

i think that's pretty cool. having to wait a year to get your mailart. if that's what you're talking about. it'll be like a time capsule, sort of.

Tell us more about books. I like handbound books. I am sorry for nagging you about mailart too, it's just that I'm so excited about the greatness of mailart...

what would you like to know? if you construct some questions, i will answer them. don't worry about the nagging, as i said, i deserve it.

What do the covers of the books look like? How are you binding them? Whom do you expect to be interested in these books? What's on their insides? Did you make or design the paper yourself?

okay, i want in with the mailart this time. I know i've said it before, i know i never do it. No really, i'm serious this time. Seriously bored and in need of a project. Email me, i beseach you. See? i don't even care if i spelled beseach wrong. That's how desperate i am. Neighbors? We live across the street from the townhouse director. She hates us. She wants us out. She only knocks on our door to screech about people parking infront of our unit, which is a fire zone but more importantly to her, blocks her from pulling out in her mom-mobile of a minivan. Bitch. She also complained that we had our Blue Box out on our pourch, and it made the complex "look untidy". This is one of those places that, when we moved in, gave us a 10 page rulebook including such jems as: What Colours You Are Not Allowed To Paint Your Front Door. I had no idea this place was like that, or i would never have concidered it. Getting the unit across from the director bitch was just the birdshit on the cake. She is a fowl and bitter woman. I would need a whole new thread to explain the bullshit she's pulled on us. One afternoon she was on the end of her driveway talking to a friend when i pulled into our driveway. There's just a very narrow drive between the units, much smaller than a regular street, so even though she's "across the street" her driveway is only 3 or 4 meters from ours. Close. As i got out of the car and walked around to the front door, she stopped her conversation with the woman, pointed at me and started whispering. In broad fucking daylight, she's doing this. Less that 3 meters from me. Holy fuck. Good thing i'm a goddamn dirty coward hippie so i didn't have to kill her. But this will not keep me from taking a shit in her mailbox at the end of our lease. There's a time and a place for mailbox shitting and this, my friends, is that time. A big AllBran and red onion fueled stinker. I cannot wait. My mother would say "Good for you!" i love you mom.

"A big AllBran and red onion fueled stinker." i'm sorry. i'm having a lot of trouble with this statement. where's patrick? i need backup. i want to be in on the next mailart, too. if this one took a year, i might have even been in on it. i thought i missed the deadline. maybe that was in on one previous.

the covers of the books are made out of this paper: http://www.mrfrench.com/yellow.jsp?line=dur-o-tone http://www.mrfrench.com/yellow.jsp?line=construction charcoal brown and blacktop. the insides are this creamy nice paper called superfine text by mohawk papers. the first page has a handprinted image of a hand reaching out to the side, and the front page has a die cut oval in it that the hand shows through. the back of the cover says something about the state agency that paid me to make the books, and they are bound with a simple pamphlet binding with black linen and chocolate brown linen threads. the rest of the books is 36 blank pages for people to write whatever in. i was hired to make these books as an appreciation gift for these people who volunteer for this particular division of the dshs, which stands for something like department of social health and human services, or something like that. i had hoped that with making these blank books, even if these people don't appreciate the fact that they are getting a handmade gift, that they would at least be able to use it for something, but dave informs me that if he got one of these books for a gift he would just have it hanging around on his desk and wouldn't use it. fuck it, it's too late, i've got about 450 out of 600 of them done, and i'm getting paid. isn't that a boring description? wisper and nate, you can both join this particular mail art if you send the shit to me in the next two weeks. if that's okay with everyone else.

how much shit are you needing?

hey me! can i do it? please please?

post your email addresses here, and i'll send you the shit.

really, can i? i'll do it for sure this time. on time.

me too.

me three, i hope

Wait, that means all of us have to send extra stuff in, right? To make the distribution even?

Just let me know when your sending it out,I might have to have it sent to a friends house since my s/o is such an asshole.

"the birdshit on the cake",Whisper,that cracked me up,and I'm proud of you.

no, because some people never sent their shit in. no need for extras, i will make it work out. send your stuff NOW! LIMITED TIME OFFER! (read like a tv announcer for some mixed seventies soft rock cd)

that is a disturbing reference about bran, mailboxes and poop. especially coming from a girl. its like taking a walk and seeing a squirrel squashed to a nasty mess. You glance once and then with some effort avoid looking at it again. "but dave informs me that if he got one of these books for a gift he would just have it hanging around on his desk and wouldn't use it" fucking christ dave!!!! I actually like having books like that. I usually buy those construction paper art books. But id totally appreciate a hand-made book like that. I use them to keep photo shoot logs, jot ideas, score tallies for when the misses and i play cards, other drunken scribblings.

she left out that i said that a lot of people would like them. i wouldn't use it not because it offends me or anything but because i don't use little blank books of any kind. i just don't. she asked if i'd use it. i said "no".

it's true. he did say that. i wasn't trying to slam dave, i was just trying to point out the absurdity of my expectations for these dumb little books. anyhow, they will be out of my hands after this weekend.

i was just busting his balls...like i do.

I love Mohawk Superfine--I just printed a broadside on it and it turned out really well. Yum, paper. I'm working on something with Teton Tiara--if I can find the link, I'll post it. It's realy scrumptious, thick paper with deckled edges. Love it.

mmmmmmmmmmmmmm, deckle. are you working at the letterpress place again, platypus? i have a hard time calling you by that name, especially when i know your real one and your former nomdeplume.

agatha, dave, cyst et. al. I will be in seattle area wed-sat june 20 etc to deliver a paper at a conference. have friend on boat in olympia I wanna go see. have an idea to see sorabjites in the area. possibility?

absolutely.

bring it on.

I can come down and meet up with you guys in olympia.

party june 20 style! isn't swine supposed to be here soon?

thursday, june 21, isn't a good evening for me, but any other time is. friday evening, the 22nd?