tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-39810724943602143722024-02-18T23:37:05.556-05:00Next Summer.Matthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16129815994576939700noreply@blogger.comBlogger42125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3981072494360214372.post-68122466540348403272011-09-06T14:11:00.001-04:002011-09-06T14:12:34.859-04:00Hello from Kentucky.<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on"><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgPplauVaBwUBJ-cxeT2-zHPoWUCovRqwkz01eU7QcKl6k5j2Tl4hXOojUdExM8OumRm7zX2-4Pahoy8FpsrTx6wm1UQywaDoDM05h-KptdxMo_R1AOmJH8IjyqUD-49v-f_I2QdF99vAw/s1600/megan-panoramic.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="70" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgPplauVaBwUBJ-cxeT2-zHPoWUCovRqwkz01eU7QcKl6k5j2Tl4hXOojUdExM8OumRm7zX2-4Pahoy8FpsrTx6wm1UQywaDoDM05h-KptdxMo_R1AOmJH8IjyqUD-49v-f_I2QdF99vAw/s400/megan-panoramic.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Click the picture for a better view. These are the mountains that I grew up in.</td></tr>
</tbody></table><div style="text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: center;">Back to the old house . . . for a while.</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: center;">The picture above is of <a href="http://www.facebook.com/profile.php?id=100000976611628">Megan Epperson</a> at an overlook in Cumberland Kentucky. If she would have taken one more single step forward, or if she had slipped, Megan Epperson wouldn't be a name that refers to a girl that is currently alive, it would refer to a dead body that is probably part of a bear's diet.</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: left;"></div><div style="text-align: left;">-Matt</div></div>Matthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16129815994576939700noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3981072494360214372.post-26779291419318750572011-08-27T18:58:00.002-04:002011-08-27T18:58:30.252-04:00It's time . . .. . . to go into LiveJournal mode for a while.<br />
<br />
-MattMatthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16129815994576939700noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3981072494360214372.post-30007325275848363382011-08-26T14:18:00.002-04:002011-08-26T14:21:14.099-04:00Personal And The Pizzas @ The Old Miami in Detroit, MI.<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on"> The other day I went to see Personal And The Pizzas, a punk band from New Jersey. They played with two other bands who just so happen to suck very bad like. This was my first time to The Old Miami and I think it has won the position of #1 sweetest bar that I've been to yet in Detroit. They have an awesome jukebox that doesn't cost TOO much, dudes hanging out and playing records instead of a radio, walls covered with Vietnam memorabilia, a back yard area that rules to a ridiculous extent, and they host some awesome bands regularly. My only complaint is that Maker's Mark costs $7 a drink. That's not TOO bad since I only occasionally have one single drink, but it's not fair to the bourbon drinkers of planet earth. <br />
ANYWAYS! The Old Miami rules and Personal And The Pizzas rules. Check out these two videos I shot while I was there!<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><iframe allowfullscreen='allowfullscreen' webkitallowfullscreen='webkitallowfullscreen' mozallowfullscreen='mozallowfullscreen' width='450' height='266' src='https://www.youtube.com/embed/oz5EKqEemJE?feature=player_embedded' frameborder='0'></iframe></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">Personal And The Pizzas - Brass Knuckles</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><object class="BLOGGER-youtube-video" classid="clsid:D27CDB6E-AE6D-11cf-96B8-444553540000" codebase="http://download.macromedia.com/pub/shockwave/cabs/flash/swflash.cab#version=6,0,40,0" data-thumbnail-src="http://1.gvt0.com/vi/EhRGsgk_puE/0.jpg" height="266" width="450"><param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/EhRGsgk_puE&fs=1&source=uds" /><param name="bgcolor" value="#FFFFFF" /><embed width="450" height="266" src="http://www.youtube.com/v/EhRGsgk_puE&fs=1&source=uds" type="application/x-shockwave-flash"></embed></object></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">Personal And The Pizzas - Never Find Me</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">Enjoy!</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">I love all of you.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">-Matt</div><br />
</div>Matthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16129815994576939700noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3981072494360214372.post-20738910685441135582011-08-20T10:27:00.003-04:002011-08-20T10:36:36.019-04:00Friends come, and then they go . . . back home.<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on"> As always, I had trouble sleeping. With the time being around 4 AM, sitting at my aunt's house while she visits her dying sister in Kentucky (my other aunt) taking care of her trio of babies that just so happen to be chihuahuas, not much productivity can come from a person. Frustrated with not being able to slow my brain from racing in every direction all at once, I hop on my bike and go to Dunkin' Donuts.<br />
I spent roughly two hours sitting at Dunkin' Donuts dipping bagels into my decaffeinated coffee (blasphemous, I know). The first half of my two hour stint there was spent renaming wireless networks to stupid stuff that I wont publicize on here out of stupid paranoia. The latter half of the two hour period was spent making this:<br />
<br />
<iframe allowfullscreen="" frameborder="0" height="345" src="http://www.youtube.com/embed/cug8YzRsXnA" width="560"></iframe><br />
<br />
<center><div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on"><br />
The song is by a band called "<a href="http://thewhoopassgirls.bandcamp.com/">The Whoopass Girls</a>," and the track is titled "Old Red." They're just some midwestern kids making sloppy, care-free music. It's real, raw, and truthful. Check 'em out. If you're into them, check out the other from 'em that's along the same lines under the band names "Henry Bemis Is A Super Hero," "The Loneliest Cowgirls," "Screaming And Dreaming," and . . . I feel like I'm forgetting one of them . . .<br />
<br />
<u>I miss all of my friends.</u><br />
<br />
Personal and the Pizza's tonight at The Old Miami in Detroit. Probably going solo, oh well, it will be a good time. I wish that teleportation devices existed so all of my friends from Kentucky and around the world could tag along.<br />
<br />
<br />
-Matt</div></center></div>Matthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16129815994576939700noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3981072494360214372.post-22796549448658739432011-08-13T19:57:00.003-04:002011-08-16T23:50:46.271-04:00The sky looks pissed.<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on"><div style="text-align: center;">That's lightning going on in the clouds. Probably the scariest looking clouds I've ever seen in my life. I don't think I've ever seen clouds roll so quickly, especially while lighting up as if they were preparing to release a horseman or two.</div><br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhY2HgFjQKX5Hbp2r10DdocraNGL-_59yuYGiM_6oR_gimCsNGnL2yJwb1XA1fUVzrGZKgeMZip9FclPzOUxq51esEw6I4EGaRPq8BTDysVHYbn9hs3_FhdPOLTjNzNFUlQwHqEmNUWhpY/s1600/pissed-sky.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="266" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhY2HgFjQKX5Hbp2r10DdocraNGL-_59yuYGiM_6oR_gimCsNGnL2yJwb1XA1fUVzrGZKgeMZip9FclPzOUxq51esEw6I4EGaRPq8BTDysVHYbn9hs3_FhdPOLTjNzNFUlQwHqEmNUWhpY/s400/pissed-sky.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Rarrr.</td></tr>
</tbody></table><br />
</div>Matthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16129815994576939700noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3981072494360214372.post-3358520458527722872011-08-02T05:41:00.000-04:002011-08-02T05:41:57.916-04:00I am into things.<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on"><div style="text-align: center;"> Going through a single semi-recent folder of photos I've edited, I discovered a few things that I'm into as of late, they are as follows:</div><br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiFFt31BEBdYOtODf7J-khyphenhyphenWCeh3OpjcpxXpCb4DpDhbKYKve2U1oKsuVpsONChUv-qYY2LJ1lQSxzuGYNULwmjF3LcTcK6e30rjGSwZWTQ_CHJPrpNAycgghYrVo8a36cH9PDGZzZK92g/s1600/IMG_6868.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="266" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiFFt31BEBdYOtODf7J-khyphenhyphenWCeh3OpjcpxXpCb4DpDhbKYKve2U1oKsuVpsONChUv-qYY2LJ1lQSxzuGYNULwmjF3LcTcK6e30rjGSwZWTQ_CHJPrpNAycgghYrVo8a36cH9PDGZzZK92g/s400/IMG_6868.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">PLAYING WITH TOY LENSES.</td></tr>
</tbody></table><br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgHTl7Z-ZfWQJ1yV5frHIa5_-b6LvJIXF_4V6R7ao2p5a_gOBZWVli3Zi6yGm2Swm_cDTRLyuNMZNm7g4aftHsuElX244QDnbFHmLAAnERcUsGPHnsmt6m9CUFVPmJIEnheCiPuNz4JOaE/s1600/IMG_6869.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="266" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgHTl7Z-ZfWQJ1yV5frHIa5_-b6LvJIXF_4V6R7ao2p5a_gOBZWVli3Zi6yGm2Swm_cDTRLyuNMZNm7g4aftHsuElX244QDnbFHmLAAnERcUsGPHnsmt6m9CUFVPmJIEnheCiPuNz4JOaE/s400/IMG_6869.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">PLAYYYYYING WITH TOY LENSES.</td></tr>
</tbody></table><br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjXNmh9aBKm75cfaqb4ciD1GGcrca5JcRg5UGl6VmugYvh7GZZCpendGe9aby3MXmegc3_eoztmDIxCxNtvzu0FTTbHPRqMVLi2GJxEjMYxeYI1QjetSoTw6PAKLKmetsYhun5x1IFYfsI/s1600/reading-material.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="266" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjXNmh9aBKm75cfaqb4ciD1GGcrca5JcRg5UGl6VmugYvh7GZZCpendGe9aby3MXmegc3_eoztmDIxCxNtvzu0FTTbHPRqMVLi2GJxEjMYxeYI1QjetSoTw6PAKLKmetsYhun5x1IFYfsI/s400/reading-material.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">READING GREAT BOOKS.</td></tr>
</tbody></table><br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEijdt7qJvqFdWerb0ZoOWRFTY2NayrI8hN4PjjQrsmrvTORbLhhXUZPKGbxhkvIsdzkAhNv2ZIb3S2ww0Id6kuEQ5TtiWVRoQa_H2NC_ntpV8VuPlEl3HR-1gtnpF_xNA0RH8huingmpeU/s1600/tupac-stencil-test.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="266" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEijdt7qJvqFdWerb0ZoOWRFTY2NayrI8hN4PjjQrsmrvTORbLhhXUZPKGbxhkvIsdzkAhNv2ZIb3S2ww0Id6kuEQ5TtiWVRoQa_H2NC_ntpV8VuPlEl3HR-1gtnpF_xNA0RH8huingmpeU/s400/tupac-stencil-test.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">MAKING STENCILS.</td></tr>
</tbody></table><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj4TF0sUc-aZXqjFGPC4bgHFEtiAmhFmnsloUK5kIM7EvY8kLpQLXs-eh4oOXJfW8qb9ydBa_rURpCrxmex3UlTRDtnjhRHGDZj8nL-LtP1KxJz-miN9pHcc150AU_jY6flXCnEtMwROjk/s1600/IMG_6940.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj4TF0sUc-aZXqjFGPC4bgHFEtiAmhFmnsloUK5kIM7EvY8kLpQLXs-eh4oOXJfW8qb9ydBa_rURpCrxmex3UlTRDtnjhRHGDZj8nL-LtP1KxJz-miN9pHcc150AU_jY6flXCnEtMwROjk/s400/IMG_6940.jpg" width="286" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">LIVING IN A SCARY LOOKING HOUSE WHEN IT STORMS.</td></tr>
</tbody></table><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi5i5kd-5DxX9GjKrkfNxFRasRmgaQ0oBSqUL0hfbz5LDyJjrxiETe0IY8qTcAAMmsl88mTuH2swj8vM4TTatFbEmotxImhpiMRwGLfSrLml1faZBy3Sht2h5z6RA9ucazy2YpPBEVfxQQ/s1600/IMG_6793.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="266" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi5i5kd-5DxX9GjKrkfNxFRasRmgaQ0oBSqUL0hfbz5LDyJjrxiETe0IY8qTcAAMmsl88mTuH2swj8vM4TTatFbEmotxImhpiMRwGLfSrLml1faZBy3Sht2h5z6RA9ucazy2YpPBEVfxQQ/s400/IMG_6793.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">GETTING POSSESSED BY THE SPIRIT OF PATRICK SWAYZE. </td></tr>
</tbody></table><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjTJiiPgMQMT-XPXhL-KB6kbkt-sphNUA3_u3jzvoM2mBIyzW0xPueDY2ZwLeYP5emzOO9kEWmbm3YERCQOSBay4nza7ZJ0m5N9tZML7sGFnMOzft5qvc2QqdroWRQ4VJ72rs8dw7sHEbE/s1600/get-shrunk.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="266" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjTJiiPgMQMT-XPXhL-KB6kbkt-sphNUA3_u3jzvoM2mBIyzW0xPueDY2ZwLeYP5emzOO9kEWmbm3YERCQOSBay4nza7ZJ0m5N9tZML7sGFnMOzft5qvc2QqdroWRQ4VJ72rs8dw7sHEbE/s400/get-shrunk.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">FEEDING DINOSAURS LIQUOR.</td></tr>
</tbody></table><br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEizV6J8_TxPjvb435YRbhutforKQz2IAOLG4Cxi526VleUR4gtFibX9JVdeJidJ-iFarJt6dead7beYPkYri3Ts4Cir1y8sn8KqMXiXjBedYDcVECuuiqxXosS876rKsfLh3qvFSXxajdY/s1600/got-it.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="266" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEizV6J8_TxPjvb435YRbhutforKQz2IAOLG4Cxi526VleUR4gtFibX9JVdeJidJ-iFarJt6dead7beYPkYri3Ts4Cir1y8sn8KqMXiXjBedYDcVECuuiqxXosS876rKsfLh3qvFSXxajdY/s400/got-it.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">GETTING MAIL.</td></tr>
</tbody></table><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjQldFoS-aJeOe9VLHHh7Odx2Bi9kFWLte9n01nUJ0UiXUu8OscMD9D0WpaFHFkoZEw1E-CV-y2nDd6NcTT30FKdU-QvnqRmA1WdiEMA4NjSJDVQGAsMOo_-y8UoEykN9LPqmQGacSQ-DA/s1600/tour-de-frampz.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="130" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjQldFoS-aJeOe9VLHHh7Odx2Bi9kFWLte9n01nUJ0UiXUu8OscMD9D0WpaFHFkoZEw1E-CV-y2nDd6NcTT30FKdU-QvnqRmA1WdiEMA4NjSJDVQGAsMOo_-y8UoEykN9LPqmQGacSQ-DA/s400/tour-de-frampz.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">RIDING BIKES (WITH PEOPLE).</td></tr>
</tbody></table><br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEibBZIVqNQ6C7sov3de4qL0FeErB6XwiFbXW-NIvH8TBkyuFceoncstss1Axo1j7XcrVJ7UT3kDD1s6328jwWqpG6ZoI2bFxlPH2PDIWe-ySwGALJICaJxNBXwy0j0-gEaKu4cGCShqfrg/s1600/space.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="266" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEibBZIVqNQ6C7sov3de4qL0FeErB6XwiFbXW-NIvH8TBkyuFceoncstss1Axo1j7XcrVJ7UT3kDD1s6328jwWqpG6ZoI2bFxlPH2PDIWe-ySwGALJICaJxNBXwy0j0-gEaKu4cGCShqfrg/s400/space.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">LOOKING AT SPACE IN MY BACK YARD.</td></tr>
</tbody></table><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh4-JgwHd0M6sOlS7W2F_0ie2EgVb7D3_kL20sdYNHCxLSF_FUAB-tscRw5JNp7Ovmmu0L0kbMMny_-JpnUy0k53vMVme5IELyPpJOMbx4LRO7fj3y4XeDmnCT5z5c2UIPwE0OnZikVr8E/s1600/ashlynn-space.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="266" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh4-JgwHd0M6sOlS7W2F_0ie2EgVb7D3_kL20sdYNHCxLSF_FUAB-tscRw5JNp7Ovmmu0L0kbMMny_-JpnUy0k53vMVme5IELyPpJOMbx4LRO7fj3y4XeDmnCT5z5c2UIPwE0OnZikVr8E/s400/ashlynn-space.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">TEACHING PEOPLE SPELLS.</td></tr>
</tbody></table><br />
<br />
-Matt</div>Matthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16129815994576939700noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3981072494360214372.post-85271451988621131752011-07-23T22:51:00.004-04:002011-07-31T18:21:32.291-04:00Pick Any Number From One Through Nineteen.<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on"><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhwAO3lhHo_VD6dKjMAY12Rmhm3B8Bk-fUD7sysE_p_qNop0uZidwaUCYMTLQ1zwCyHIjpAf-A-MEvro3dsJwKZ3PVXT7IaH00fXIYgxm6F5oZclesHOoA6RJtfe0CZjyqZTErOcdfhD1g/s1600/IMG_6961.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="266" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhwAO3lhHo_VD6dKjMAY12Rmhm3B8Bk-fUD7sysE_p_qNop0uZidwaUCYMTLQ1zwCyHIjpAf-A-MEvro3dsJwKZ3PVXT7IaH00fXIYgxm6F5oZclesHOoA6RJtfe0CZjyqZTErOcdfhD1g/s400/IMG_6961.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Click the picture if you want to be able to see each individual print.</td></tr>
</tbody></table><u style="font-weight: bold;">NUMBERS ALREADY CHOSEN:</u> <span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #333333; font-family: 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 11px; line-height: 14px;"></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #333333; font-family: 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; line-height: 14px;">3, 4, 6, 9, 11, 12, 13, 14, 15, 16, 17, 19</span><br />
<br />
<br />
Alright, this is long overdue. Twenty-one things have fallen off of my wall since the last time I sent any postcards sailing. Now that takes a long time to happen, well, a month or two, but taking into consideration the frequency at which I was updating my blog at before, this is nothing short of ridiculous. <br />
Oh well, the nineteen pieces pictured above remain homeless and they're up for adoption. How do you get one? Well, you have a few routes. All of the routes that you have to choose from have one thing in common, and that's you picking a number, any number, from one through nineteen. You can tell me the number that you have chosen by commenting on this post (preferred route!), you can e-mail it to me at mattimeoo@gmail.com, you can call and tell me or leave it in a voicemail, you can text it to me, you can instant message it to me, you can send it in a message on any platform you have me on, you can mail me a letter, or you could always come over and just tell it to me the old-fashioned way.<br />
What happened to the missing two? Well, I mailed them out already. A picture of some Indian transvestites to <a href="http://www.facebook.com/profile.php?id=1571057283">Mr. Shane Terry</a> and a picture of a homeless kid as an inspirational adolescent anti-role model to the new to planet Earth baby child of <a href="http://www.facebook.com/sashiapple">Sasha Ousley</a> and <a href="http://www.facebook.com/jared.mckinney1">Jared McKinney</a>, little tiny Misha McKinney.<br />
<br />
<b>SUMMARY:</b><br />
Pick any number from 1 through 19. Each number will correspond with a print that I've labeled with one of the numbers on the back. I take your number, find the print that the number matches, and I mail it to you. It's that simple. Go!<br />
<br />
<br />
-Matt</div>Matthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16129815994576939700noreply@blogger.com14tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3981072494360214372.post-10818331094453921332011-07-09T06:32:00.000-04:002011-07-09T06:32:23.849-04:00I got a new lens . . .<div style="text-align: center;">. . . and it makes things look <i>old.</i></div><div style="text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: center;">Old, as in taken a long time ago with a toy pinhole camera but not really taken with that but taken with a new expensive DSLR camera with an old pinhole toy camera lens attached to it.<i> </i></div><div style="text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: center;">This is the very first picture I have ever taken with the lens:</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br />
</div><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgKmZU77NSlf5A_cAwn5dZZm9jZZzmWzJp5c_1mtGlOXYKz8zY9mWKVRBDE50Soq0lHjeWj31XM8xyuA8GLp3fJSAILBkXFZWlLUkI1IDOYBlwUySEfHRbAINN60bzl6Hn979jWWGuIgbs/s1600/blerrr.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="266" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgKmZU77NSlf5A_cAwn5dZZm9jZZzmWzJp5c_1mtGlOXYKz8zY9mWKVRBDE50Soq0lHjeWj31XM8xyuA8GLp3fJSAILBkXFZWlLUkI1IDOYBlwUySEfHRbAINN60bzl6Hn979jWWGuIgbs/s400/blerrr.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Waiting on the bus.</td></tr>
</tbody></table><div style="text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: left;"> I got the lens around 10 minutes prior to me walking out the door to go to work. Naturally, I was really excited and eager to try it out. I opened the package, attached the lens, put my camera in my bag, and departed on my long trek to work. At the bus stop, I pulled the camera out while I waited for the bus to pull up and took a picture of the first thing I saw: my bike propped against the bus stop sign. And there you have it.</div><div style="text-align: left;"> Right now it's 6:27 AM and I think it might be time for me to rest a bit. Look for more pictures from this new lens of mine, I'm sure I'm gonna be wearing it out the next couple days! Oh yeah, I forgot to mention what it is! It's a Holga Lens for Canon DSLR cameras, so far it's fun, and it's really cheap. It's this right here: <a href="http://www.amazon.com/Holga-Lens-Canon-DSLR-775121/dp/B0050C1A3E?ie=UTF8&tag=nexts-20&link_code=btl&camp=213689&creative=392969" target="_blank">Holga Lens Kit For Canon DSLR (775121)</a><img alt="" border="0" height="1" src="http://www.assoc-amazon.com/e/ir?t=nexts-20&l=btl&camp=213689&creative=392969&o=1&a=B0050C1A3E" style="border: none !important; margin: 0px !important; padding: 0px !important;" width="1" /><br />
<br />
Goodnight, goodnight.<br />
<br />
<br />
-Matt</div>Matthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16129815994576939700noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3981072494360214372.post-10183946055812950582011-07-06T22:11:00.002-04:002011-07-08T00:23:55.504-04:00Why god, why.<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on"><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">In the famous words of Shane Terry, <i>why?</i></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><object data="https://clients4.google.com/voice/embed/embedPlayer" height="64" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" width="100%"><param name="movie" value="https://clients4.google.com/voice/embed/embedPlayer" /><param name="wmode" value="transparent" /><param name="FlashVars" value="u=08184745025923058779&k=AHwOX_ARrxTtQ90eJEPpfJK7e7ia3hMFDGr34iiR9j7uyJ_iMeaC3Pm34PFJLr65huKLjwgONAiYk1YkcfiOog_13i-0NZ-ZGYVuNHVrVssAE-9eVTc6pTXSj6kL2iBa5tWwGobiPZSuV1EYAL25y-LxVbQjUhyELVrcfO991HWAd7Co1E0LHjg&baseurl=https://clients4.google.com/voice&autoPlay=false" /></object></div><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"> Why are fireworks always named the dumbest shit ever? Why do they always have the most awesome pictures on them?</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEinntvfaYQ15ErTX8rriklAVmFpFo1nNxalUHSgbztUx6BKtKrkcaxGjXOWI9LxDI8qy5b9EvJfPpSrV7D1Uf0CJ49TC2TiCQl1jTkDtdXywxMIBzwlXJq3tm_xF3-6WmAJvmY4ZpuEjcU/s1600/IMG_6548.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="265" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEinntvfaYQ15ErTX8rriklAVmFpFo1nNxalUHSgbztUx6BKtKrkcaxGjXOWI9LxDI8qy5b9EvJfPpSrV7D1Uf0CJ49TC2TiCQl1jTkDtdXywxMIBzwlXJq3tm_xF3-6WmAJvmY4ZpuEjcU/s400/IMG_6548.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">RIDE THE SKY.</td></tr>
</tbody></table><br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgalpeZS2L3mW9OCEfT4hospHQu9BzVkjdtFWxSOECPOjvvaQTY6m5Jl3NCgRZ7Mon_4I20FUs1jipidRDXHF6TQfRULQbbWCbZj2HdiIGcwkLiiMz5ZcG7yld3cnlqQ1WZCxSCeiY1Zz8/s1600/IMG_6550.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="266" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgalpeZS2L3mW9OCEfT4hospHQu9BzVkjdtFWxSOECPOjvvaQTY6m5Jl3NCgRZ7Mon_4I20FUs1jipidRDXHF6TQfRULQbbWCbZj2HdiIGcwkLiiMz5ZcG7yld3cnlqQ1WZCxSCeiY1Zz8/s400/IMG_6550.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">MIDNIGHT CARNIVAL. FEATURING JUMPING MEN AND WOMEN OF ALL RACES. ALSO A GUEST APPEARANCE BY BON JOVI SHREDDING THE NIGHT AWAY FOR YOUR ROCKIN' PLEASURE.</td></tr>
</tbody></table><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: center;">Why can't I buy a really awesome 15 pound cast iron tea kettle that appears to be hand crafted for ballers only from Meijer's for $30? I buy this thing, open it up, and in the instructions it says that I cannot boil anything in it, I can only POUR ALREADY BOILING water into it. A tea kettle that cannot boil water, no sense made. I am out $30, but I'm probably going to have to return it, I kind of hate this thing. </div><div style="text-align: center;"><br />
</div><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjzod6RmtD8q5xGIU4qk8ZtFwHiyAFxv38BZOjnJO9nJSY9DtIg9RRIX5hrR9o1ygrjgUrgvhEnoayt-QQhOF7InFzW6cgoPag08AfGM6YreHwmRDDiuS8eK9-o2Nhk501i2Uf9Ex3qCGU/s1600/teqpot.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="266" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjzod6RmtD8q5xGIU4qk8ZtFwHiyAFxv38BZOjnJO9nJSY9DtIg9RRIX5hrR9o1ygrjgUrgvhEnoayt-QQhOF7InFzW6cgoPag08AfGM6YreHwmRDDiuS8eK9-o2Nhk501i2Uf9Ex3qCGU/s400/teqpot.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><u><i>"TEA KETTLE"</i></u></td></tr>
</tbody></table><div style="text-align: center;">Why did Red "Just Cause," Zinnia stick it out to the bitter end and win the flower battle by default and out of sheer perseverance? That's right. RJCZ has bloomed. After all the hell that RJCZ endured, one single sprout managed to bloom. He stands a good foot and a half tall, red as the blood he was born to shed. So why did he win? Just cause . . .<br />
</div><div style="text-align: center;"></div><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgI8jLm-cxu2cgCMeiTaRejNUJax_ckUWfN7cT3ERIObgx6dZM_3K2Gr1LPdKnLDToXlJ3Z-A91gJApzgQA9V03-li_K-j2uXnZ2WfokCWQ1UXwD5tWw7iwQpER9nIfcuWAHLwZihXprHo/s1600/IMG_6594.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="266" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgI8jLm-cxu2cgCMeiTaRejNUJax_ckUWfN7cT3ERIObgx6dZM_3K2Gr1LPdKnLDToXlJ3Z-A91gJApzgQA9V03-li_K-j2uXnZ2WfokCWQ1UXwD5tWw7iwQpER9nIfcuWAHLwZihXprHo/s400/IMG_6594.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">VICTOR.</td></tr>
</tbody></table><div style="text-align: center;"><span id="goog_1300630136"></span><span id="goog_1300630137"></span>And why is there such a sweet vortex in my basement?</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br />
</div><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiCR5lQyxtamgDlbr0egtKjc7dLmLvL3NtLdKvTaoQnb9GX-OeRVrOOAa0I1ZpAB6rjakpet4CQU4GStadtcl2ewIIlD9Qgm8vY5dM9iLpL6CWCnRBhP0LoMpfqooiL6ssii1XgzVSyqs8/s1600/vortex.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="266" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiCR5lQyxtamgDlbr0egtKjc7dLmLvL3NtLdKvTaoQnb9GX-OeRVrOOAa0I1ZpAB6rjakpet4CQU4GStadtcl2ewIIlD9Qgm8vY5dM9iLpL6CWCnRBhP0LoMpfqooiL6ssii1XgzVSyqs8/s400/vortex.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">VORTEX. Light painting is fun, if you have a camera that can keep its shutter open for decent amounts of time, try it out sometime.</td></tr>
</tbody></table><div style="text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: left;"> </div><div style="text-align: left;">-Matt</div></div>Matthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16129815994576939700noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3981072494360214372.post-34996266900155851682011-07-04T15:15:00.001-04:002011-07-04T15:16:22.337-04:00Hello, firework day.<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on"> It's the fourth of July. I just woke up. I worked really late last night. My armpits stink. I'm about to take a shower. I have no plans for today. I'm home alone for over a week. I think I'll go outside and ride around all day with my camera and maybe try to find illegal fireworks. I had a dream that I got my mom's car towed and I was at fault, I didn't realize it was a dream until I was googling my old college's impound lot.<br />
<br />
Today might turn out fun. Things have a way of happening to me, or I have a way of luring them in subconsciously. Regardless I think I'll have a couple pictures or a video to show after it all.<br />
<br />
To tide you over, here's two videos that I shot the other day at the Nobunny show at PJ's Lager House in Detroit. Best show in a long time.<br />
<br />
<b>Nobunny - You Don't Like Rock 'n' Roll:</b><br />
<br />
<object height="349" width="560"><param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/3Q8MhlaZ7uA?version=3&hl=en_US&hd=1"></param><param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"></param><param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"></param><embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/3Q8MhlaZ7uA?version=3&hl=en_US&hd=1" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" width="560" height="349" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true"></embed></object><br />
<br />
<i>and . . .</i><br />
<br />
<b>Nobunny - I Am A Girlfriend:</b><br />
<br />
<object height="349" width="560"><param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/73knbsIxFsc?version=3&hl=en_US&hd=1"></param><param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"></param><param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"></param><embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/73knbsIxFsc?version=3&hl=en_US&hd=1" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" width="560" height="349" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true"></embed></object><br />
<br />
<br />
Enjoy.<br />
<br />
Love 'yuns.<br />
<br />
<br />
-Matt</div>Matthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16129815994576939700noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3981072494360214372.post-53170712527747795302011-06-24T04:56:00.004-04:002011-06-25T14:17:17.856-04:00The twenty-four day hiatus: halted, adjourned, aborted, hiatED.<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on"><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh7ixgi5jHmeZiwR5lJuCri8LC5Wc4iN0YJNqQl9ldEboG5fkVthK0lRAKM3juQgnlG4TGvWnwIZJidDgnoIazgYQDY7739Sde6C_KHlN01VKC_nzPwSyjeCsAuaqHh3z1nOesQ1ihjG-g/s1600/IMG_4706.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="90" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh7ixgi5jHmeZiwR5lJuCri8LC5Wc4iN0YJNqQl9ldEboG5fkVthK0lRAKM3juQgnlG4TGvWnwIZJidDgnoIazgYQDY7739Sde6C_KHlN01VKC_nzPwSyjeCsAuaqHh3z1nOesQ1ihjG-g/s400/IMG_4706.jpg" width="400" /></a></div><br />
It has been twenty-four solid days since my last blog post. In that 3.428571428571429 week span, quite a few things have happened. Some of those things were good and some were very, very, very bad. Positive things in my life never outweigh the negatives and the negative things never beat out the positives. I ride through life at a neutral norm, and my norm is pure optimism, otherwise I would have killed myself a long time ago. It's the only way to live if you ask me. Say fuck it, keep the "things are going to be really rad," perspective reigning with an iron fist in your brains, and keep on truckin'. Thinking like an optimistic robot is key.<br />
Moving forward. Lately, I've been working a lot. My schedule is dumb, it really isn't a schedule, but more like a random summoning of me that I have to obey. It's usually like Thursday: 4PM - 4AM Friday: 4PM - 4AM Saturday: 11 AM - 4 AM Sunday 12:30 PM - 4 AM. It's pretty ridiculous, especially considering I don't have a car now. Yes, my car is gone forever. The jolly Christmas themed Cavalier rides no more. Long story short, I broke down in downtown Detroit, came back the next day to get my car and it's gone. I call up state and city police and all of the towing services they work with over the course of about 5 days. No one knows anything about my car so the cops eventually tell me "Sounds like your car was stolen." So I reported it stolen. That's the end of that. I lost a lot of sentimental stuff in that car, along with about ~$200. Oh well.<br />
<br />
<div style="text-align: center;">------------------------------------------------------------------------------</div><br />
<div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-style: italic;">I started writing this entry the other day but was interrupted in the middle of it. I think I'll just post it as it is and let it be. I don't want to finish it while I'm in another train of thought. We'll let this be the "hello again," portion. I'll let this be the entry that rekindles a steady stream of new entries. I hope all is well.</span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-style: italic;">-Matt </span></div></div>Matthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16129815994576939700noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3981072494360214372.post-53814832000375242442011-05-27T00:55:00.000-04:002011-05-27T00:55:46.439-04:00Sub-Par-"Update," Or Maybe Not Even.<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on"><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEidGtaDNlIKXsskvLWMHKsu6Qm88hVD01t2_sbVXQLwdtjIh0TAfNv1dhEWfGPca-1I1AYCNOMwOl4fZ9YwpHmpeydLOGC99elZRN9w4Kqydnw-AgXAWVItcEPKNFDvrxOmWm-Ed8xFntI/s1600/IMG_5821.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="266" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEidGtaDNlIKXsskvLWMHKsu6Qm88hVD01t2_sbVXQLwdtjIh0TAfNv1dhEWfGPca-1I1AYCNOMwOl4fZ9YwpHmpeydLOGC99elZRN9w4Kqydnw-AgXAWVItcEPKNFDvrxOmWm-Ed8xFntI/s400/IMG_5821.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">My new laptop got its first decoration to commemorate and acknowledge the existence of the Linux operating system on it. It's Tux the penguin.</td></tr>
</tbody></table> Haven't updated the past bit, I'm working on the guide to walk people through cracking WEP protected wireless networks (their own, of course, anything else would be illegal) for total dumb dummies that don't know anything. In other words, I'm making a tutorial that could enable an elderly woman who is an avid pants-shitter to break the security on WEP protected networks, thus giving her access to the network that the WEP encryption was supposed to be protecting. <u>Look forward to it!</u> It's coming soon. It's looking Monday-Tuesdayish due to my super packed ultra long work-weekend. <br />
<br />
<br />
<div style="text-align: center;">P.S. I went geocaching the other day and it was really fun. I'm sure I'll write more about it sometime. Try it.</div><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgXUL0R5N7TKjiqUpQVPrvM5oNmeoFYWPx83kggB34TQZiXZbaLQvlMJD3_KIKAyF-DJEt631iM0051ZccFzoB01gSb1dOXiCAHyELq5A4ZcObIUDOZJWQMnO1WkEYWTl6M1Nipb9ecyRs/s1600/IMG_5671.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgXUL0R5N7TKjiqUpQVPrvM5oNmeoFYWPx83kggB34TQZiXZbaLQvlMJD3_KIKAyF-DJEt631iM0051ZccFzoB01gSb1dOXiCAHyELq5A4ZcObIUDOZJWQMnO1WkEYWTl6M1Nipb9ecyRs/s400/IMG_5671.jpg" width="266" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Geocaching! It's fun. Do it. Papers whitewashed with photoshop to protect the cool people who signed in on the log we found.</td></tr>
</tbody></table><br />
<br />
<br />
-Matt</div>Matthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16129815994576939700noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3981072494360214372.post-61756663337241243542011-05-24T13:12:00.001-04:002011-05-24T13:16:03.946-04:00I went to Elizabeth Park yesterday . . .<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on"><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhpe2lZ605R-dQ89NAfbhGhU_rV_-EZwMfF7kCHOgsI3zrcXUhTuWnHWprD6bIJOypmfng_ShXfznTdCGYVd4KD0sm1A9AZmf42_WT0EiPPSrHkIjTdnIe5MxkG1XO5-o0E9JWyELFBL_k/s1600/woo.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhpe2lZ605R-dQ89NAfbhGhU_rV_-EZwMfF7kCHOgsI3zrcXUhTuWnHWprD6bIJOypmfng_ShXfznTdCGYVd4KD0sm1A9AZmf42_WT0EiPPSrHkIjTdnIe5MxkG1XO5-o0E9JWyELFBL_k/s640/woo.jpg" width="122" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><u>CLICK THE PICTURE FOR A BIGGER SIZE</u>. This is what you'll see as one collective frame if you sit on a bench in Elizabeth Park and fall backwards slowly, letting your head flop backward when your back rests flat. Top part of the frame: Grosse Ile islan, bottom part of the frame: Elizabeth Park.</td></tr>
</tbody></table><br />
<br />
. . . and then that rain cloud in the distance got closer and closer until it eventually came to be right over top of me. It didn't just bring itself, it brought lightning, hail, tons of rain, and a double rainbow. Needless to say, it ended my bike riding endeavor around the park. Super skinny tires on wet pavement usually don't mix very well and I don't want to kill my bike with water just yet. Maybe next time.<br />
As for right now, I'm about to ride down to my Aunt Mary's place of work so she can cut my hair. My hair is getting to this level . . .<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://farm3.static.flickr.com/2482/3934984911_00b3342691.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="140" src="http://farm3.static.flickr.com/2482/3934984911_00b3342691.jpg" width="200" /></a></div> . . . and I don't like my hair getting to that level.<br />
Wish me luck on not getting hit by cars, stabbed, shot, burned alive, drowned, tortured, robbed, etc. by street hooligans.<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
-Matt</div>Matthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16129815994576939700noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3981072494360214372.post-12793351790785575042011-05-23T03:34:00.004-04:002011-08-27T14:07:47.223-04:00New friends are good, cool, fun, rad. Ride bikes.<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on"><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhyi0arYSn-d318Vp0rg1ql_kZc6GghCGI9B19xAbW7lWLHrU_Sf8f5z-ZlvEvvxmZJhTXOr0gE7EHq0Cv-UGTVmKf_lguwyDGdDQcJNMgGlV_XusMEqXDWcMt9BahTvN_9V0W3y2e1Zbs/s1600/kristina-jacob-panorama.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="90" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhyi0arYSn-d318Vp0rg1ql_kZc6GghCGI9B19xAbW7lWLHrU_Sf8f5z-ZlvEvvxmZJhTXOr0gE7EHq0Cv-UGTVmKf_lguwyDGdDQcJNMgGlV_XusMEqXDWcMt9BahTvN_9V0W3y2e1Zbs/s400/kristina-jacob-panorama.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Click the picture for a bigger/better version.</td></tr>
</tbody></table> I'm beginning to be thankful for the people I've tried to lure out to ride bikes with me that have shut me down, backed out, or ignored the offer. Without all of you baby weaklings that are scared of the world outside of the safety of your home and cradle of your mother's arms, I wouldn't have prowled the mean streets of the Motor City by my lonesome and met all kinds of random super cool people that owned the streets with me, setting fire to the ground that our tires touched.<br />
It was an interesting day. Started off with Kristina, she's on the left. We killed the streets for a few hours, ate some Thai food, then we ran into this guy on the right, Jacob. He's cool too. We rode bikes forever, randomly went geocaching, succeeded, left notes, signed logs, took presents, left presents, continued! We went to his place, the 21st floor of the Millender Tower in downtown where the above picture was taken. From this balcony, we screamed at a guy below complimenting his cool bike. Across 21 stories of screams via strained and stressed vocal chords, we arranged to meet up at the building entrance in 10 minutes. He joined the posse. NEW FRIEND ACQUIRED! <br />
<br />
<br />
<div style="text-align: center;">Four people, one day, all strangers, now friends. We rolled around until sunset and life was good. </div><div style="text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br />
</div> I hope that the next time I try to snag some people to come out with me that they oblige and we all have a really awesome time and loathe the moment that we all have to call it a night. Detroit is winning me over more and more each day. Things are great.<br />
I've been working doubles everyday the past three days, I'm exhausted physically and mentally and I desperately need sleep. I think I'll indulge in some of that right . . . . . . . . . now.<br />
<br />
<br />
-Matt</div>Matthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16129815994576939700noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3981072494360214372.post-10838598166029151382011-05-19T15:30:00.000-04:002011-05-19T15:30:17.212-04:00Honest Abe, that buzta ain't be dead.<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on"><blockquote><div style="text-align: center;"><i>I'm a' honest man<br />
I'm a' honest lover<br />
Stand by my word<br />
Don't know no other </i></div></blockquote><div style="text-align: left;"><i> </i></div><div style="text-align: left;"><i> </i>I've been riding one of my new bikes around Taylor all morning<i>, </i>the lovely blue mid-80's Fuji that I'm loving. I'm riding around, hoping that the 50% chance of precipitation doesn't strike like a cobra and destroy me, my bike, my camera, and my laptop. Maybe a dumb move, probably a brave one, nevertheless I'm going up against it full force, no hesitation. The Fuji is one of the five beauties that I acquired yesterday by trading my BMX bike off to a man from Romeo Michigan. Was it an even trade? I feel as though it was, but honestly I don't really care if it was or not, I'm loving these bikes and I'm sure whoever rides them with me in the future will too. Here's an awful shot of the bike I took to show one of my friends. I'm sure better pictures that involve my bikes are in store for the future, but for the moment, I'm sure that this one shall suffice:</div><div style="text-align: left;"><br />
</div><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhMGXHhXXNq7xk8gaKEsAuOJKmewxvmAsiiDkC1HwNypV2wqAabVa7mPYj862R0j8mI6Pkd6OnjlHrGWZyNspsIPfYQ_kdWi08B5p9ygbw9YHHfM6raefF_02Ps83isNr-iwlnx6luYHgY/s1600/IMG_5656.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="266" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhMGXHhXXNq7xk8gaKEsAuOJKmewxvmAsiiDkC1HwNypV2wqAabVa7mPYj862R0j8mI6Pkd6OnjlHrGWZyNspsIPfYQ_kdWi08B5p9ygbw9YHHfM6raefF_02Ps83isNr-iwlnx6luYHgY/s400/IMG_5656.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">RAD.</td></tr>
</tbody></table><div style="text-align: left;"> Yep, that's it. Nice, right? Right. Anyways, getting back on topic, I am the living embodiment of Abraham Lincoln in his prime of honesty. Why? Because of this:</div><div style="text-align: left;"><br />
</div><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjpcI8wfT5ZFLTn8-ibiLyW_6-gRkMtDIgH_EzRUq1p1w5s52Kq4ma_87_m2THSa41c6mN3RKB6R-glKGEGUuubZo80MtqdFkXuVupGeR4A8EEtZiuT8-6RBanWdEqtnol9q7NkEcbk0pA/s1600/honest-abe.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="227" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjpcI8wfT5ZFLTn8-ibiLyW_6-gRkMtDIgH_EzRUq1p1w5s52Kq4ma_87_m2THSa41c6mN3RKB6R-glKGEGUuubZo80MtqdFkXuVupGeR4A8EEtZiuT8-6RBanWdEqtnol9q7NkEcbk0pA/s400/honest-abe.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">HONESTY.</td></tr>
</tbody></table><div style="text-align: left;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: left;"> I stopped by Starbucks to grab some tea and get online for a bit, so of course I'm going to put my money on a card first since it gets you free refills and other stuff like that. I walk up to the counter, give the lady my card, hand her a $10 and say "I wanna put $10 on my card." She says "Alright," and finishes the job. I get my tea and have a seat.</div><div style="text-align: left;"> I open my laptop, get online, and check my balance to see how close I am to moving up in rank to get cooler stuff (1 purchase, for the record). I notice that I have $17.93 as a remaining balance and I previously had a balance of nothing, zero dollars, zero cents and I had just given the woman a $10. So instead of having $7.93 left, I had an additional $10. A mistake, obviously. She gave me $20 in credit instead of the $10 I had paid for. Normally this would be a cool situation for a bad guy, but I'm a good guy. I inform the lady, and to help her out even further, I go ahead and give her the other $10 since I'm sure that I'll end up drinking it up at some point in time anyways. Honesty at its finest.</div><div style="text-align: left;"> I ended up landing a free cup of tea for it all, not $10 worth of tea, more around $0.53 worth of tea, but oh well. It felt good and it was a nice gesture. Detroit isn't full of assholes, thieves, murderers, and junkies. I'm proof, so come and visit. Detroit is cool.</div><div style="text-align: left;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: left;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: left;">-Matt</div></div>Matthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16129815994576939700noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3981072494360214372.post-80659936444941201132011-05-18T14:04:00.002-04:002011-05-18T14:06:50.564-04:00R.I.P. Awesome BMX Bicycle Of Mine. 2009-2011. I will miss you . . .<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on"><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjqj2YhOQZDDE_JRwRt3GY14u8kvwBqXE0Mz83Pt9620ABZZHID8HjSDABuT9DZsDGIB1M7WilEP1zppr5SaCamWiKPvUCnsmHVKIJr8AAoYSZkGz1BcpD9KVbupjuv1nj2pNS54yBeY_o/s1600/IMG_5632.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="265" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjqj2YhOQZDDE_JRwRt3GY14u8kvwBqXE0Mz83Pt9620ABZZHID8HjSDABuT9DZsDGIB1M7WilEP1zppr5SaCamWiKPvUCnsmHVKIJr8AAoYSZkGz1BcpD9KVbupjuv1nj2pNS54yBeY_o/s400/IMG_5632.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">R.I.P. 2009 - 2011.</td></tr>
</tbody></table><br />
<div style="text-align: center;"> <i>Beloved BMX bicycle of mine that I have cherished for years, today . . . we part ways.</i> </div><br />
Today, BMX riding dies once and for all in my life. It's a sad, strange, and hard thing for me to admit, but it's true. I don't believe that I will ever again be into BMX. I've had one too many stitches and surgeries thanks to BMX. I love(d) it while it lasted (since I can recall breathing) but I can't really risk smashing myself to death anymore. One reason is due to lack of insurance, so if I get hurt, I'm done for. And two, I'd like to focus more on getting in good overall shape. Hence this bike being traded for some truly awesome road bikes that I plan to ride to death.<br />
That's right, today, a new era in my bike life begins. I'm trading my beastly BMX bike off to FIVE road bikes! EXCITING. A Kabuki, a Fuji, a Schwinn Voyager, a Windsor, and a Concord Pro 2. All awesome bikes. Armed with these, I'm hoping to have some super bike rides with friends reminiscent of "<a href="http://www.facebook.com/group.php?gid=119412008081253">Whitesburg Bike Punx</a>," but of course minus the original cast and crew of perfection.<br />
We'll see what happens. I'm hoping for the best. I'm excited, I'm happy, but I'm also a little sad seeing my bike leave along with a lifelong thus far era of my life. Here's to it.<br />
<br />
<br />
-Matt</div>Matthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16129815994576939700noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3981072494360214372.post-12384348899985115172011-05-15T20:34:00.001-04:002011-05-15T20:39:23.323-04:00Forty-One Degrees Fahrenheit? Five Degrees Celsius? Plus Five?<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on"> Here in Metro-Detroit, it's 41° F. Why? A day ago it was in the eighties. Michigan is a strange place, the weather here confuses me. I like it though, it doesn't seem as though it can make up its mind now or any time in the near future. Obviously nobody knows it and it does what it wants.<br />
What's going on today? Well, my plants are killing it. They're growing awesomely underneath this really sweet 4" plant light that I bought the other day. I have so many things growing in this big seed starter tray that I got from Meijer's for liek $2. In the tray right now there are Marigolds, Zinnias (the Just Cause krew), Heavenly Blue Morning Glory's, Moonflowers (interplanetary shit), Sun Flowers, Nasturtiums, Basil, Dill, and Parsley. I'm pretty excited about my Basil Boyz, they look so . . . meaty, and they're just babies right now. Check them out:<br />
<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh30GC4YG2dt5aFRZo0mOhKSRylQAHR1PJ4vjhl3Q9DXNrk2BytNfKMOk_2_hay-l63_v3UvA309p67R-l_f29HuyMcwF3VrQ9JO3k-W3vC_rHA-fQFwA0CU9TXOXlKKiC5A5P3GDFVAVI/s1600/basil-boys.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="266" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh30GC4YG2dt5aFRZo0mOhKSRylQAHR1PJ4vjhl3Q9DXNrk2BytNfKMOk_2_hay-l63_v3UvA309p67R-l_f29HuyMcwF3VrQ9JO3k-W3vC_rHA-fQFwA0CU9TXOXlKKiC5A5P3GDFVAVI/s400/basil-boys.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The Holy Basil Boyz, related to The Beaver Boys, fueled by white wine and shrimp.</td><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><br />
</td><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><br />
</td><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><br />
</td></tr>
</tbody></table><br />
Life lately has been relatively boring, mainly due to the lack of skrilla being acquired to blow to fund things such as going places, buying things, and doing stuff which is mainly due to lack of work which is totally due to the boat that I work on not going on many cruises yet which prevents me from working which causes this whole shit cyclone cycle of nothing. That will all come to a close soon and I'll be complaining about working too much. I suppose I'm doomed to never be satisfied with life, maybe I should just go eat worms or die.<br />
On a more pleasant note, away from the topic of dying and eating worms and dissatisfaction with life, I made a pretty sweet little package for my super cool friend <a href="http://www.dalemackey.com/">Dale Mackey</a> (click the name for her equally super cool blog) down South in ole Knoxville, Tennessee. I thought it turned out pretty good:<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiuWewRXW-dzslsptBEOJqoFtb4b3eKJi6pYE9h4Rd5QV9WvHbfA7SmK_LAXfUv79sKrMGeS0EcP8-3Qf-NdR97aapF_7vc_seDTa0wpQ3Kez6WmORswSTUxQFBAxtF87cc0z-_9YGsMTs/s1600/IMG_5563.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiuWewRXW-dzslsptBEOJqoFtb4b3eKJi6pYE9h4Rd5QV9WvHbfA7SmK_LAXfUv79sKrMGeS0EcP8-3Qf-NdR97aapF_7vc_seDTa0wpQ3Kez6WmORswSTUxQFBAxtF87cc0z-_9YGsMTs/s640/IMG_5563.jpg" width="426" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Presents! On the way to Knoxville in the morning. </td></tr>
</tbody></table> Ok this sucks, Starbucks is closing so it's time for me to cut it short and leave. Typos and all of that will have to be corrected later, but who cares. I'm posting this, the internet at my house is practically non-existent.<br />
<br />
<br />
-Matt</div>Matthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16129815994576939700noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3981072494360214372.post-29559429096697366332011-05-13T13:32:00.002-04:002011-05-14T18:20:22.189-04:00Looks like Blogspot kinda blew it . . .<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on"> . . . and deleted EVERYONE's last post. It was down for what, over 24 hours I think? That sucked. So I suppose I'll attempt to recreate my last post, but in a condensed form.<br />
<br />
I went downtown the other day and rode my bike for hours and hours. It was awesome to finally have weather worthy enough to ride a bike around without a jacket on. My super white flesh even burned a little bit, it's kind of sad how white I am. Here's the only picture I took, click it for a bigger version:<br />
<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhtDVKX70tmVm1ImcXrL4uzv26JXSFUFoF32hI0AB-NVsb4Kcwa8EWam55fiUW7E11_U2fB7yEZEkJYl1EFieycPgxVMVsrJkp91OgTdxjVEv0sunep7sTLmu-ZUmF6TB_0y-3v76WZ93Q/s1600/REN-CEN.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhtDVKX70tmVm1ImcXrL4uzv26JXSFUFoF32hI0AB-NVsb4Kcwa8EWam55fiUW7E11_U2fB7yEZEkJYl1EFieycPgxVMVsrJkp91OgTdxjVEv0sunep7sTLmu-ZUmF6TB_0y-3v76WZ93Q/s640/REN-CEN.jpg" width="229" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Super panoramic! If you click it, it'll show you a bigger version. The REAL version is about 50+ times bigger than this, literally.</td></tr>
</tbody></table><br />
</div>Matthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16129815994576939700noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3981072494360214372.post-43907902339309712482011-05-11T08:43:00.007-04:002011-05-11T09:17:40.708-04:00I don't have any brains left.<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on"><div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on"><br />
<br />
<center></center><center></center><center><object height="349" width="425"><param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/lu_lQpnHDhQ?fs=1&hl=en_US"></param><param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"></param><param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"></param><embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/lu_lQpnHDhQ?fs=1&hl=en_US" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" width="425" height="349" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true"></embed></object></center><br />
<div style="text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: x-large;">And:</span></div><br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<center></center><center></center><center><object height="349" width="425"><param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/IJQRxExlmy8?fs=1&hl=en_US"></param><param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"></param><param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"></param><embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/IJQRxExlmy8?fs=1&hl=en_US" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" width="425" height="349" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true"></embed></object> </center><center><span style="font-size: small;"> </span></center><center><span style="font-size: small;">I had no idea until just then . . . </span></center><center><span style="font-size: small;"><br />
</span> </center><center><span style="font-size: small;">My mind is blown.</span></center><center><span style="font-size: small;"> </span></center><br />
<div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;">And if you didn't know:</span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><br />
<object height="349" width="425"><param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/Bk-FT4CGbYk?fs=1&hl=en_US"></param><param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"></param><param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"></param><embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/Bk-FT4CGbYk?fs=1&hl=en_US" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" width="425" height="349" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true"></embed></object></div></div><br />
<div style="text-align: center;">According to this crazy ridiculous Christian TV show, The Beach Boys wouldn't exist without the demonic forces of satan. In that case thank god for satan and his demonic forces for creating The Beach Boys and The Ramones.</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: center;">It's crazy that this stuff was actually allowed on TV, and it's even sadder that a lot of people actually bought into it.</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: left;">-Matt </div></div>Matthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16129815994576939700noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3981072494360214372.post-20528235434278446232011-05-10T18:27:00.000-04:002011-05-10T18:27:27.160-04:00Looks Like Rain.<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on"><div style="text-align: center;"></div><div style="text-align: center;"></div><div style="text-align: center;"></div><div style="text-align: center;">It looks like rain up here in Metro-Detroit. </div><div style="text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: center;"><object height="349" width="425"><param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/EoMY5zYbR_w?fs=1&hl=en_US"></param><param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"></param><param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"></param><embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/EoMY5zYbR_w?fs=1&hl=en_US" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" width="425" height="349" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true"></embed></object> </div><div style="text-align: center;"><br />
</div><blockquote><div style="text-align: center;"><i>Here's some more old archive footage I found, edited, and put a song I liked to it. I couldn't find this song on YouTube, so I figured that I would make an awesome contribution to the world by using it. So yeah, enjoy it!</i> 06-20-2010</div></blockquote><div style="text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: left;"> I'm guessing it looks like rain down there in Kentucky as well based on reports I'm getting from friends. Looks like rain down there, looks like rain up here. Might as well listen to "<a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=EoMY5zYbR_w">Brighter - Looks Like Rain</a>" since well, it looks like rain outside and this song rules to an immeasurable extent. If you like it, I can hook you up with/point you in the right direction for tons more stuff like this and more stuff by this band, just say so in a comment or something! It can be pretty hard to dig up sometimes, but I know where it's hiding at.</div><div style="text-align: left;"> </div><div style="text-align: left;">Enjoy!</div><div style="text-align: left;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: left;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: left;">-Matt</div></div>Matthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16129815994576939700noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3981072494360214372.post-8549727903438044542011-05-07T13:38:00.001-04:002011-05-07T14:10:55.116-04:00REST IN PEACE: French "Infant Jesus Of Prague" Marigold, You Are Dead Now.<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on"><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjOPJdKKRr5-WjOhm6nlECzqApDkySpuUZWIwrwos4JRIzBZh8xbgZVel4ILkESRP0sUjtWcWMdc2pN-AtysPEUyPQcfKRRvgWqbqOvysRzFdYP8Up9_I4baWH3kNGoMTn574EW_kdZ8fY/s1600/IMG_5310.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="266" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjOPJdKKRr5-WjOhm6nlECzqApDkySpuUZWIwrwos4JRIzBZh8xbgZVel4ILkESRP0sUjtWcWMdc2pN-AtysPEUyPQcfKRRvgWqbqOvysRzFdYP8Up9_I4baWH3kNGoMTn574EW_kdZ8fY/s400/IMG_5310.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Rest in peace, young nigga, there's a heaven for a G. (yeah I know there's a typo on the picture, it was a copy/paste, I left its charm.)</td></tr>
</tbody></table><br />
Yes, you read that right . . . FIJOPM is <i>dead</i>. Meaning that the flower battle of the millennium is over with and by default Red "Just Cause" Zinnia is the winner. No, I'm not going to get excited about it or anything like that, this is tragic. My heart is broken and I'm sure that some of you out there are crying your eyes out. Too bad those tears wont revive little ole FIJOPM. I'm just going to . . . ignore this. There will be a new flower battle though, you can count on that. It might be some sort of watermelon grow off or a white pumpkin weight competition, who knows, maybe I'll ask for recommendations. So, does anyone have any recommendations as to what the next competition should be? If you do, leave it in a comment.<br />
I'm sure that you're now wondering "What the hell happened to FIJOPM?" Well, it isn't what you're thinking. I didn't forget to water him or anything like that. This is what happened. I was moving all of my plants (I have a lot of them) that are all in tiny plastic cups with dirt in them. I was moving them to a windowsill that the sun was hitting really well at the time. I have around 10-15 cups, so instead of taking them one by one, I was trying to move them in bulk by clasping like 5 per hand, a finger in each, and them walking to the window. This didn't work so well when you factor in the little blue trays that the war was being waged in. I placed him down on the windowsill and . . . he fell. Splattered everywhere. It was graphic . . . Here's a gruesome shot of his dead body and innards splattered everywhere. It's graphic, you've been warned:<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhuEK6MKeUk9Xlo_D_d6g312c9XbezV07ZEUXn8_NuxcpuloBiuC7XlpqrouCvX93BZ1_e1cC5WAYioxwu9urPyhIsPQbfj2tVM0_iU6FE5wW_p7Uv3MD7pRNE4duTA6-IH4c4rqZUpheY/s1600/IMG_5322.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="266" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhuEK6MKeUk9Xlo_D_d6g312c9XbezV07ZEUXn8_NuxcpuloBiuC7XlpqrouCvX93BZ1_e1cC5WAYioxwu9urPyhIsPQbfj2tVM0_iU6FE5wW_p7Uv3MD7pRNE4duTA6-IH4c4rqZUpheY/s400/IMG_5322.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">DEATH.</td></tr>
</tbody></table> Harsh. I'm done with this. <i>You will be miss French IJOP Marigold . . . </i><br />
<br />
And while I'm thinking about it, in regards to my last post, my little brother had a release note he'd like to share:<br />
<br />
<blockquote><i>The focus is not so prime, but I can make out the shape of you. The Blurring says that you’re like me. So, I’ll tell you about these songs let out as miserable vulgarity, or vulnerable almost-humming.<br />
<br />
It was a hotel room in Texas, and I wasn’t the only contributor; There was Machlyn Blair who gave a good humming vibration that cannot be singled out on the tape, and another boy with bright blond hair that would sometimes play the guitar for me on some of the more poppy-gone tracks.<br />
<br />
The sounds here were all made of what was immediate in the air, and what was ready to expel from within. They are nothing profound, as I believe this kind of shouting and mess are common teenage expressions of self-flagellation, or fun. The jutting sections of this work, the ones with curses and harshness, I hope will not scratch at the sense and morality of any listener as they are a record of a kind of exorcism.<br />
<br />
It was hard for me to allow the release of these recordings, and it barely excaped being handed over to Machlyn Blair for a memento of our trip to Austin. May the age I was, and it’s somewhat innocence, protect me from any harsh claims of faulty morals or spirit. Today, I am not so much able to bring up such monsters from the inner pool because they have mostly left me through times of outrageous letting go as is found in this one recorded instance of many.<br />
<br />
These songs are for your interpretation, show the sky-dwellers that you have a heart that filters evil and recognizes the good, listen to a track completely and make it good even it is the worst thing you ever let in your ears. We will able with each other to help.<br />
<br />
I hope to release more music soon, and am also working on some Hypnosis tapes for your self improvement, I promise they will contain no vulgarity of ill direction.<br />
<br />
As Ever,<br />
Tommy</i></blockquote><br />
Iff you missed it last post, I finally released that cassette tape I was digitizing of my little brother. It's honestly some of the best stuff I've heard in forever, all 20 tracks of it. <u>You can download the entire album for free, or you can use the option to throw him a dollar or two for it.</u> You can stream OR download the whole thing here: <a href="http://tommyanderson.bandcamp.com/">http://tommyanderson.bandcamp.com/</a><br />
<br />
Burn it up!<br />
<br />
<br />
-Matt</div>Matthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16129815994576939700noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3981072494360214372.post-76405446389769678392011-05-06T06:22:00.002-04:002011-05-06T06:28:45.912-04:00Finally being released! "Tommy Anderson - Songs That Puke!!!"<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on"><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhYI-xa6VQV2-brVmuiB8iatANbgDjj6a7yFSXteDw3cfIYvcy9_eoJnmpzIf_SQRimxssDJn-oyyv10tZzE9-1eQ6f156QVsi_uJVw-Dft5UXauZJJIAEBmBPYE8x3rIrTPE4WqZrPprw/s1600/Album+cover.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="340" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhYI-xa6VQV2-brVmuiB8iatANbgDjj6a7yFSXteDw3cfIYvcy9_eoJnmpzIf_SQRimxssDJn-oyyv10tZzE9-1eQ6f156QVsi_uJVw-Dft5UXauZJJIAEBmBPYE8x3rIrTPE4WqZrPprw/s400/Album+cover.JPG" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The album art for "<a href="http://tommyanderson.bandcamp.com/">Tommy Anderson - Songs That Puke!!!</a>"</td></tr>
</tbody></table><div style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://tommyanderson.bandcamp.com/"><span style="font-size: large;">Tommy Anderson - Songs That Puke!!!</span></a></div><br />
So, today's the day that I unleash the tape that I've been working on the past few days. It's going to be a really good day, let me tell you.<br />
Let me give you a quick background of what this tape is. This is 46-47 solid minutes of my little brother recording totally improvised music while sitting around in a hotel room with some friends while he was in Texas with <a href="http://appalshop.org/ami/">AMI</a>. The tape was recorded several years ago when he was around the age of 16 or so. All of it was recorded on a cassette tape, which he let me borrow quite a few months back and I just rediscovered. After rediscovering it, I digitized and cleaned it up quite a bit.<br />
While I let the tape play, letting my computer record it, I sat and listened to it. This was the first time I had given it a solid listen through. Sitting there listening to it, it was the saddest, strongest feeling of nostalgia I've had in years even though I wasn't even there (although I usually was when he would play music like this). It reminded me of so many good times, and what I consider to be the prime of my life in retrospect. The tape is happy, it's sad, it's hopeful, it's stupid, it's fun, it's romantic, it's angry, it's raw, it's honest, but most of all, it's real life shit from a real life boy in a point of his life that you will never know him in. I love this tape, and hopefully you will too. Tommy, my little brother, is the only person I've ever met that can come up with this quality of music this fast right off of the top of his head, it's amazing to me. If you know my brother, you know what I'm talking about. He's different.<br />
You can download the album below from the bandcamp website we set up. You can listen to all of the tracks on the website or you can download the album as a whole by clicking "Buy Now," and putting in whatever you want to pay to download it (yes, that even includes the price of $0.00, meaning that<b> it's free if you want it to be</b>).<br />
So if you enjoy it and have some spare change lying around, throw it his way by paying a few dollars for the album download. If you love the music and just want it, fuck it, download it, love it, and spread it around.<br />
<br />
<u><b>Download the album here</b></u> --> <a href="http://tommyanderson.bandcamp.com/">http://tommyanderson.bandcamp.com/</a><br />
<br />
Enjoy.<br />
<br />
<br />
-Matt</div>Matthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16129815994576939700noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3981072494360214372.post-70749409058435273162011-05-04T06:44:00.002-04:002011-05-05T23:47:34.038-04:002nd Wave of Fallen Pictures as Pending Postcards! 3 Total!<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on"><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEglchJLRQdqLPxSdpRONjGZIZFY2v_suHWz7PIP9zIW04YzBF3GmJGa6_pW_xgxaOyw-hcrJZiDY5uiA447mD9LDgxmUuhkJxQ2Tc1MryFqEhlAkdwK14GDuduDns_zbJNoHW02aQti3vo/s1600/DSCN1036.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"></a></div><div style="text-align: center;"> <span style="font-size: x-large;"><span style="color: black;"><u>EDIT:</u> <span style="color: red;">ALL</span> PICTURES ARE SPOKEN FOR. </span></span></div><blockquote><span style="font-size: x-large;"><span style="color: black;"><i><span style="font-size: large;">Thanks everybody for the interest! This was an interesting round, one went to Tennessee and the other two went to two different sides of Australia. Keep up with the blog for more rounds of picture send outs as postcards, there are over a hundred left waiting to fall off of my wall. Subscribe to the blog via e-mail to the right, or follow with your Google or blogger account! Many, many things coming up in the future, keep up!</span></i></span></span></blockquote><br />
As promised, here's the second wave of picture's that are slowly trickling off of my wall, morphing into postcards. This is fun, to me anyways haha. I hope people enjoy getting postcards as much as I like sending them.<br />
Since the start of this blog, I have sent postcards to:<br />
<ul style="text-align: left;"><li>The Netherlands</li>
<li>China</li>
<li>Portland, OR</li>
<li>Eastern Kentucky (Pike/Letcher/Knott Counties)</li>
<li>Canton, MI</li>
<li>Detroit, MI</li>
<li>Harper Woods, MI</li>
<li>San Antonio, TX </li>
</ul> Yeah! Making tracks. <u>I've noticed I have readers from Germany, Singapore, Indonesia, Russia, Iran, Malaysia, Canada, and The United Kingdom. So where are you guys? <b>Speak up!</b></u> I'll send you a postcard and I'll feel really cool and you'll feel really cool. It's a win-win situation. Nobody loses, except me, because I have to buy stamps.<br />
Here ya go, the next round. There's three of them in total. Call whichever one you want! <u><b>And keep in mind, you don't have to get the postcard sent to yourself, you can have me send it to <blink>anyone</blink> of your choosing.</b></u><br />
<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEglchJLRQdqLPxSdpRONjGZIZFY2v_suHWz7PIP9zIW04YzBF3GmJGa6_pW_xgxaOyw-hcrJZiDY5uiA447mD9LDgxmUuhkJxQ2Tc1MryFqEhlAkdwK14GDuduDns_zbJNoHW02aQti3vo/s1600/DSCN1036.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEglchJLRQdqLPxSdpRONjGZIZFY2v_suHWz7PIP9zIW04YzBF3GmJGa6_pW_xgxaOyw-hcrJZiDY5uiA447mD9LDgxmUuhkJxQ2Tc1MryFqEhlAkdwK14GDuduDns_zbJNoHW02aQti3vo/s400/DSCN1036.jpg" width="300" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">It's me, in India, raising the Taj Mahal from the ground so everyone can look at it for a few minutes. The Taj Mahal will seriously blow your mind though if you see it in real life. It looks FAKE it's so pretty.</td></tr>
</tbody></table><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjCkZmnPvTpL0Rb1-s0qBICR0FJ16m859Xpn1W6GMUJWb6hYecCefTkASuAaar8fUovv8_t85A3M8IJo7RXjuONZci_xRH9qsYejFE9uBHAJDMeK0P3Y_zfgMGqbQULYUKuNCnDw7JC658/s1600/yulia.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="266" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjCkZmnPvTpL0Rb1-s0qBICR0FJ16m859Xpn1W6GMUJWb6hYecCefTkASuAaar8fUovv8_t85A3M8IJo7RXjuONZci_xRH9qsYejFE9uBHAJDMeK0P3Y_zfgMGqbQULYUKuNCnDw7JC658/s400/yulia.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Ahh, Miss Yulia Morozova! The Russian girl that scooped me up, saved my life, and showed me a really awesome time in Louisville Kentucky. You don't meet people kinder/cooler than her. This is her, doing some totally illegal shit in a museum (this was an exhibit, she gave zero shits, she jumped the ropes and on into it, she is crazy, I love her).</td></tr>
</tbody></table><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEggnvxfXbTd9w8PJ-4DuDaMftq7BClebnITkQbRkqTbzbqK7y-Uf0bFsaVpTHoEjgkSgj1x3haWtG_cLPJkGZvSh_kXGFzJxAIFLYZStK8etlXc73YiP7m4mkFrjUSsiI6ebF492om9MAk/s1600/IMG_7884.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="266" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEggnvxfXbTd9w8PJ-4DuDaMftq7BClebnITkQbRkqTbzbqK7y-Uf0bFsaVpTHoEjgkSgj1x3haWtG_cLPJkGZvSh_kXGFzJxAIFLYZStK8etlXc73YiP7m4mkFrjUSsiI6ebF492om9MAk/s400/IMG_7884.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Child beggars in Jodhpur India in the state of Rajasthan. They just finished some Saffron Lassi's I got 'em. These are the kind of kids that you want to take home and show a good life to. Too bad I couldn't . . .</td></tr>
</tbody></table><br />
That's all I have for this time around. You know what to do, call the one you want, then e-mail me the name and address you would like it sent to at: <a href="mailto:mattimeoo@gmail.com">mattimeoo@gmail.com</a> <br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
-Matt</div>Matthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16129815994576939700noreply@blogger.com8tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3981072494360214372.post-4103411547386986762011-05-03T23:35:00.002-04:002011-05-04T06:07:31.327-04:00Flower Fight: DAY #6. Plus old guys flying helicopters in my back yard? That rules.<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on"><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg2jmT0hLW85bML50M4WEptYO5YpVWFLCy5IaqPbkofIGeYy9ORdaCL3HIpDjqBql53WlPV2K21BgIy6CfOgZ0Uk6onXLWHW-kqc2ORdcxNzcDBiKhvF99hyphenhyphenojxjh9EHu4gSqehhUGDUV0/s1600/IMG_5227.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="266" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg2jmT0hLW85bML50M4WEptYO5YpVWFLCy5IaqPbkofIGeYy9ORdaCL3HIpDjqBql53WlPV2K21BgIy6CfOgZ0Uk6onXLWHW-kqc2ORdcxNzcDBiKhvF99hyphenhyphenojxjh9EHu4gSqehhUGDUV0/s400/IMG_5227.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Old guys with a crazy helicopter in the backyard next to me. They obviously know what's going on.</td></tr>
</tbody></table> Before we get into the flower battle, I'd just like to say that the neighbors to the right of me are awesome. The old guy holding the remote control is the guy who lives there, I dunno where blue hat guy came from but I'm pretty sure he knows things about sweet helicopters like this one. He walked around it a lot, putting out his hand here and there like he was absorbing to giving some kind of super natural energy. Maybe he was high? I don't know. Probably.<br />
This was taken yesterday when I heard something like a vacuum cleaner / jet engine going crazy outside of my window. I jumped up to see what was going on since that sound really isn't something that is common. I see these two guys testing out the sweetest, craziest looking helicopter I've ever seen in my whole life. There is what seems to be some kinda jet-like engine on the back, you can see it a little bit on the tail (gold-ish colored cylinder). I couldn't figure out how it was powered. There were no blades attached on the top of the helicopter, that's what made me assume they were testing things since where they should have been was spinning like a vortex. This thing looked serious. Loud, fast, and fo' real. I wanted to see it take off so bad, but no dice! Maybe in the future, and if so, expect a video. I'm jealous of this thing, I want one. It looks awesome. It would undoubtedly land me in jail somehow if I had one though, I have a gut feeling.<br />
<br />
Flower talk! The war wages on. Zinnia is still killing it although the marigolds are forces to be reckoned with in the height department. First to bloom? WHO KNOWS. The Zinnias have 10 sprouts! The Marigolds have 5! Here's what my garden is looking like thus far. Tons of cups starting out seedlings!<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEil3paHh3mU_2w2GDge0ju5qsX1l7FDloLu9rl2z-OpqD4_9QMtqWBgtvdSQaAY_IvNCjofpHwaQEKY6tjEIhGurjB_FqMOmteAKkQm60pBM0wt_sXC57aaWZPT2r-v3NuDSzTVekKIx4Q/s1600/IMG_5237.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="265" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEil3paHh3mU_2w2GDge0ju5qsX1l7FDloLu9rl2z-OpqD4_9QMtqWBgtvdSQaAY_IvNCjofpHwaQEKY6tjEIhGurjB_FqMOmteAKkQm60pBM0wt_sXC57aaWZPT2r-v3NuDSzTVekKIx4Q/s400/IMG_5237.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">A fraction of the future garden, hanging tightly in my windowsill. </td></tr>
</tbody></table><div style="text-align: center;"></div><div style="text-align: center;">And a few angles of the contenders. </div><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjvwFdTfw7n6Z7VFk310ZAq7_NpkqQgUuQGGbRTtDD6lQDhymgc-8dxPO-khmLj_yKWD1GPRU4TpBiJaag8mHbp6QsVdxZwvnVx0SQaJ8H1qNtZNoaWydldxxAo9ojSxyapuFAMIt0-tcU/s1600/Untitled-1.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjvwFdTfw7n6Z7VFk310ZAq7_NpkqQgUuQGGbRTtDD6lQDhymgc-8dxPO-khmLj_yKWD1GPRU4TpBiJaag8mHbp6QsVdxZwvnVx0SQaJ8H1qNtZNoaWydldxxAo9ojSxyapuFAMIt0-tcU/s400/Untitled-1.jpg" width="315" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">French "Infant Jesus of Prague" Marigold on the left and Red "Just Cause" Zinnia on the right. </td><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"></td><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"></td></tr>
</tbody></table> So, who do you think will win and why?<br />
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<b> OH YEAH! </b>And by the morning, I'll have new pictures listed that are dying to leave my room and land in your hands with the help of the U.S. Postal Service. So keep an eye out. If you're in the USA, China, Chile, Norway, Australia, or whatever, it doesn't matter. If you are on planet Earth, I will get a postcard to you if you want one!<br />
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And if you don't have a blogspot account to follow this blog, you can subscribe through your e-mail! The box to do so is on the right hand side. Don't be shy now, subscribe, comment, inquire, suggest, criticize, request, etc.<br />
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-Matt</div>Matthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16129815994576939700noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3981072494360214372.post-10434017518084902032011-05-03T04:34:00.001-04:002011-05-03T04:35:30.049-04:00Tommy Anderson - Songs That Puke!!! (COMING SOON!)<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on"><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhYI-xa6VQV2-brVmuiB8iatANbgDjj6a7yFSXteDw3cfIYvcy9_eoJnmpzIf_SQRimxssDJn-oyyv10tZzE9-1eQ6f156QVsi_uJVw-Dft5UXauZJJIAEBmBPYE8x3rIrTPE4WqZrPprw/s1600/Album+cover.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="340" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhYI-xa6VQV2-brVmuiB8iatANbgDjj6a7yFSXteDw3cfIYvcy9_eoJnmpzIf_SQRimxssDJn-oyyv10tZzE9-1eQ6f156QVsi_uJVw-Dft5UXauZJJIAEBmBPYE8x3rIrTPE4WqZrPprw/s400/Album+cover.JPG" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Album art to Tommy Anderson - Songs That Puke!!!</td></tr>
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After two days and several takes, I've successfully digitized and cleaned up the entire cassette tape that my little brother Tommy gave me a few months ago. Today sometime, or within the next few days, I'll have the album up on bandcamp so you can download it (or give Tommy a dollar or two and download it!). I just have to let him hear the final product, get some track names, etc.<br />
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One thing that you can count on is it being some of the best stuff you'll ever hear in your life. It doesn't get much more real than this.<br />
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-Matt</div>Matthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16129815994576939700noreply@blogger.com1