White Trash Art

Birthdays and Missions from God

Donna stumbled into the place I was tending bar and somehow became my ward right up til she fled my 911 call. It was, after all, her birthday...

Always felt a little bad for those door to door Mormons. Until one teased my dog. Now they can fuck off.

suitors

as chosen for me by "Match.com":

Just Like the Picture on the Box

Things not to do 1.5 hours before you have to be at work:

1. Decide to finally use those 2 boxes of platinum blonde hair dye you bought at the clearance aisle at Walgreen's for .99 each
2. Notice that it turned out "brassy", and postulate that adding blue Manic Panic dye to some shampoo will cancel out the orange tones
3. When the small amount of blue hair dye does nothing, add 3 times as much and repeat step 2
4. Shit in your panties when you realize your head has gone mint green in less than 20 seconds time
5. Pour peroxide on your head, to no avail. Briefly consider Chlorox bleach,  but thankfully decide it's the worst idea yet
6. Realize the bangs you've been long suffering to grow out are not only mint green, but crispy like deep fried rice noodles. Cut them yourself over the sink, and instantly realize you look like a photographic negative of Johnny Ramone, or the long lost bassist of The Edgar Winter Group.
7. Cry
8. Find a hat
9. Make the walk of shame into work.

My ghost hunting days are over

After neglecting to update my website for a year or so, I've decided to switch to this blog format. I figured I could publish my new artwork here, as well as pepper the page with content I usually saved for ghosttraveller.

I doubt I'll be doing any more ghost mapping any time soon, however. My interests have changed since I started that endeavor, and with all the newfound hubbub (what with the cheesy TV shows about 'ghost hunters', 'clairvoyants', etc, etc) it just plain wasn't that unusual a subject or much fun anymore. Every fucking asshole who opened up a hotel or restaurant in North America seemed to like to say they had a "benevolent spirit" lurking about. Whatever. Rats more like.

I will happily be posting any strange vintage recipes I find, like I used to in Peggy's Antiquated Recipes and Sancho's Museum of Culinary Disasters. In fact, I just saw one recently that I'm dying to get out to you all: "Corn Cob Jelly". I gotta snag that cookbook from my mom before I can get it to you, so I promise I'll do it. I just love disgusting old cookbooks.

As for me, I've been freed from a 10 year relationship (read: dumped for the big tittied, younger personal assistant) and have moved from the White Trash mecca that is Reno, Nevada back to my original White Trash roots in Wenona, Illinois. Along with me came my trusty companion, Sancho the Rhodesian Ridgeback. And with that pet reference I come full circle, as I reminisce of my very first website of nine years ago: Sancho's Creepy Doghouse of Terror. I do indeed miss the stone age of internet blogging, when nearly everybody had some title with too many adjectives and no domain to call their own. God bless GeoCities and Tripod: training wheels for half-assed website developers.

Thanks if you are visiting. I hope to make it visually and contextually interesting.