crumbs

If my summer were a delicious cookie, here’s what’s left on my plate right now:

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We have two kattens: bubbles (cos he ate detergent), and an as-yet unnamed gray lady.

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Crazy thunderstorms happen regularly…

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The east-coast experience is blessed with train rides

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Mano a mano.

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Old friends!

West Athens, ME

For the fourth of July, Michelle (my Greenhorns’ intern partner-in-crime) and I drove up to West Athens, ME, urged on by our friend and W.A. local, Petey. It proved to be a several-day marathon of drinking coffee-brandy milk, playing pool with tugboat drivers, and participating in the most American fourth of July parade I can conceive. Thousands of people from the county show up every year. And despite the rampant drinking, tomfoolery, and water balloons, there was no sign of police, paramedics, firemen, or any other type of authority figure. The parade culminated in a contest for the best float, followed by a SF mimetroupe-esque play that poked fun at Madoff (“he made-off with all our cash!”), corporate piggery, and creationism. It was great to be on the inside of a small town for a few days. Rock on, read on.

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Our float was called “Fallen Angels.” It didn’t move cos the engine melted, but it did spew bubbles and fog. We doled out “angel juice,” a modified version of coffee-brandy milk.

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Brother and sister.

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Our very on Smithereen farm angel (she ain’t fell yet).

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Our fallen angel.

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Right before I took this picture I got pelted right in the face with a water balloon… my camera did not escape unscathed.

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Michael Jackson featured prominently on at least three floats. This was a keg-boarding take on the man.

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These guys ended up winning the contest. Not pictured here: homemade covered wagon with spinning life-sized wheels. It was pretty awesome.

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This town isn’t big on authoritay.

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That’s Petey in the wig and nighty…. since our float didn’t move, he took it upon himself to terrorize the other ones.

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This float was amazing – piles of trash mixed with old mashed potatoes and god knows what else. Oh and this chick in a bikini under a giant magic mushroom.

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Thug life.

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Fish, hunt, eat cunt – what more could anyone want?

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When the play started, two things happened: a torrential downpour began, and I ran out of film. So I’ll leave you with the West Athenian reenactment of God’s 5th day of creation: when he brought out Big Pharma to heal our imperfections, and it’s side effects.

Amen!

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