Sandwich Outing

Hey y’all. Quick disclaimer. I have no intentions of turning into a site wherein I publish photos of those whom I feel that I am better than. See, I just ended a sentence in a preposition; I am not without my flaws. Check this out though…as a youngster I wore my hair in the same manor as Ryne Sandburg, so I do understand that children are both impressionable and blind to their outward appearance. This is assinine, however.

I wore hockey hair, so did Ryno. I traded in my do for a more contemporary cut when Sandburg let me know it was time. I never, however, dressed like my grandmother. Give me a fucking break fellas. Moreover, there are two of you. You guys are telling me that you piled into a sedan unaware of the fact that you looked like your brother, let alone that you were dressed identical to your grandma…thumbs down. Swanny

Week in Review

What an interesting week in photos. I am amused for sure, but too feel slightly uneasy at the sights captured by my cellie cam. Check these out; chant some AC/DC.

Monday morning. I spot this hard-rocker hard-rockin’ an agressive mullet. You cannot see the yellow mirrored lenses on this hombre’s Gargoyles, but you can imagine.
TNT! oy oy oy…TNT! oy oy oy …TNT! oy oy oy…

Tuesday afternoon. This chick has potential. Purple stretch pants…a plus in my book. Athleticism? Youbetcha. Her abnormality lies in the fact that she is smoking two cigs at once. Go easy my friend.

This guy can go to hell. Wednesday finds this dude with a NateDawg Bozo Fro bitching about my skid-steer’s noisiness. You work construction homeboy. Nice overalls…check out the Carhartt sale at Murdoch’s…you can purchase a slightly irregular pair of those bibs for a fraction of their MSRP

Thursday afternoon. Hi. I deliver plants. My moustache is sweet. Sweet too are my cowboy boots. I also enjoy wearing t-shirts depicting cartoon characters. ~that is Wylie Coyote~ Also, I am a grown man.

Later Thursday. Six o’ clock, sixer of Bud. Workin for the weekend and then TGIF for this guy. Mullet with a sweet goatee. TNT! oy oy oy…

Two pi radians. See how things have come full circle? oy

Meet the Reverend

So here he is. My unofficial mascot, friend, and partner in crime…The Reverend Owl Sharpton.


Owl and I go back some deal of time. We crossed paths one fair Fall evening in Bozeman proper. See the cottonwoods dropping leaves a yellow; smell the crispening air. See me cutting a wide swath through a back yard; smell the flat Rainier spilling from my bottle. Now you’re getting there. I may or may not have had both shoes on. Anyhow, one misdemeanor later and this badass and I have been teaming up and hitting the roads with heads of steam since ’02. And ‘0 the memories…Butte America, Glendo, Vegas, Havasu, Chicago and every burg betwixt have experienced our shenanigans. I do not know if the Reverend is in fact Irish, and frankly I am somewhat afraid to ask. I do know he got the hat from a motorized yard flamingo…that much is certain. Check the gallery for a few of his documented outings. Not only is the son of a bitch wise, but he is elusive to boot. Now feed that pheasant.

Welcome Back! is most proud to announce the reemergence of the rat-tail into societal commonplace. Note the fact that Bozeman is a college town…i.e. a hotbed of uppity poser folk. Our SubaruwithblacklabwithYakimaracktotingNalgenebottles to person ratio is off the goddamn scales. Go buy some outerwear and hike the M, Bozemanites. Anyhow…

Here’s’s cofounder at Samurai Sam’s yesturday afternoon next in line to a bonafide rat-tail sportin’ dude. I had a laugh and a bowl of yaki soba. Do feel free to email some hairdo pics to…keep it PG though, I was raised Catholic. Joe

—sorry about the poor quality of the shots and to hell with Audiovox cell phones—

Weekend Heroics

Long story short…fight breaks out, Swanny hops the bar to swoon the female patrons, Griff wears one in the grill, Beam is consumed. Was “Billie Jean” playing during this altercation? Quite likely.