September 20, 2006
We’ve just been enjoying a long nap. We do
sleep standing up though, no joke. It’s so we can run away quick if there’s danger. We live pampered city lives, however, and usually just wake up and pee immediately. Sometimes it splashes on our feet and makes us giggle!
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July 11, 2006
This came in an email titled,
“goddess skateboarder”:
Trading Alert! We told you to WATCH AGAO and now its [SIC]
up again today. Get AGAO first thing on Monday, this is going to explode next 2-3 days!!!
Better late than never. Thanks, Job (you spammy twit).
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June 9, 2006
Couple of new photo posts: an odyssey of
New York City, and a sequence of Clip Clop’s
epic manual. He broke his arm getting even radder later the same day; more on that later.
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May 24, 2006
One of our old buddies from the
Fran Empire wrote this
little fiction for
SLAP magazine. It’s about the future!
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May 10, 2006
As a tightly knit family of horses, we are pretty much anti glue, but we’re happy to grant
this fella a pass. Whatever sticky is on the bottoms of his shoes can stay!
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May 2, 2006
And, by the looks of
this site, stiffer than a stallion’s, uh, thingy.
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Just when we thought iPod’s couldn’t get any more obnoxious, look at the
shoes of the (near)
future.
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April 20, 2006
“Is style–that convenience of settling oneself in and pinpointing the world–really the man? That questionable achievement bringing praise to the reveling author? His assumed gift is going to stick to him, slowly turning him sclerotic. Style: sign (a bad one) of an unchanged distance (but that could have, should have, changed), a distance where he mistakenly stays and one he maintains regarding his being, things, and individuals. Blocked! He threw himself into his style (or laboriously sought it out). For a life on loan, he let go of his wholeness, his possibility for change, mutation. Nothing to be proud of. Style that will become lack of courage, lack of openness, of renewal: in sum, an infirmity. Try to get out of it. Go far enough into yourself that your style can’t follow.”
-
Henri Michaux,
Tent Posts
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Recently I had to throw out the Sperry slip-ons that, as faithful reader(s) will recall, were a gift of fate. For the third time while wearing them without socks I was visited by a nasty heat rash.
I don’t know who our web guy frisked fondly, but we get some of the best junk mail in the www. To be more accurate, we get some of the best junk mail subject lines; I don’t read the cow poo inside. Take a gander, it sounds like a poetry slam: