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Art from the Weasel Collection


Happy garbage day! I tried and, once again, failed to put these items in a sack and leave them at the curb. These lovely objects are crafted from red, silver and blue glitter, Elmer’s white glue and burnt matchsticks. It’s a cross and a jewelry box. They were made by an inmate of the Tennessee Correctional System. My mother corresponded with him for a time. I do not wish to know why.

“What’s he in for?” I asked her, naturally.
“Murder, I think,” she said. “You hate to ask, you know?”

I didn’t know. My life had been free of this particular awkward social challenge.

I’m having an asshole of a week. Much to do at work, much to do at home. Trying to clear away some of the results of my twenty years of pack-rattery, among other unpleasant jobs. The fun will continue for some time, so you’ll probably get to meet lots of my stuff (in lieu of the usual thoughtful, high quality original sweasel content). Hope you don’t mind.

I need all the imaginary friends I can get.


Comment from S. Weasel
Time: July 30, 2007, 6:18 pm

They’re nicely made, actually. The insides and backs are lined with felt and everything.

Anybody want them? If you trust me with your address, you can have them, gratis.

Comment from Enas Yorl
Time: July 30, 2007, 6:35 pm

Really? Those do actually look kinda cool. As another pack-ratter I hate to see that sort of thing just tossed. If’n ya want you can send em my way.

I knew a guy some years ago who did a year or two in the pokey – a felony of some kind. I never directly asked what it was he did, I just kinda figured it would come up. It never did.

Comment from Dawn
Time: July 30, 2007, 6:44 pm

Enas likes them cuz you called them art.

Comment from S. Weasel
Time: July 30, 2007, 6:46 pm

Whoever sends me a snail mail address first gets ’em. The address in the sidebar is real.

You will not, however, automatically get on Weasel’s Christmas card list.

Comment from S. Weasel
Time: July 30, 2007, 7:07 pm

Sold! I have an address, don’t bother a-writin’…

Comment from BONGO MIRROR
Time: July 30, 2007, 7:44 pm

I’m imaginary. Does that mean I’m your friend or that you need me? Being needed seems a little undesirable. Hmmph. That’s not going anywhere funny. I’m stopping it and searching the post for something else to say about it.

Aha! When I first attempted to read the sentence describing the objects in the picture (and I’d like to note that you seem to have an unmentioned cat or lizard in that picture), I misread the sentence. I replaced the word ‘and’ with the word ‘between’ and wondered how something could be a cross between just one thing. I reread the sentence. I like how written things work that way. One can reread things without having to ask for them to be repeated.

Comment from S. Weasel
Time: July 30, 2007, 8:02 pm

Since you’re imaginary, you can be any damn thing you like. Huzzah!

And that is, indeed, a catlizard. Today, he has left *TWO* pathetic feathered corpses at the foot of the stairs (one each, morning and evening), and hissed at me once.

Comment from porkthebean
Time: July 30, 2007, 9:40 pm

Ooooo, folk-art. Looks well made too – minus the glitter.

Imaginary friends, artsey, pack-rattery, curiosity about sweasel’s junk (git yer mind out of the gutter, you know what I mean). *nervously looks around*

Comment from Steamboat McGoo
Time: July 30, 2007, 9:48 pm

Well, now we know what Weasel really values.

Aren’t you going to offer us those feathered corpses? Or are you going to keep them for yourself?

I’ll give you an address to mail them to. It’s not my address, but I can assure you that I will really appreciate you sending them there. I’ll even pay postage.

Uh, don’t put a return address on it, OK?

Comment from Paul Sunstone
Time: July 30, 2007, 10:51 pm

Say, I’ve been missing two of my prize-winning Patagonian canaries. You haven’t seen ’em, have ya?

Comment from Catlizard
Time: July 31, 2007, 12:26 am

They were delicious.

Comment from The Catlizard King (of Haiku)
Time: July 31, 2007, 10:00 am

Paranoia strikes deep
Into your heart it will creep
It starts when you’re always afraid
Step out of line and Akisment comes
and takes my post away.

I cannot believe this . I didn’t do nuthin’ I tell ya, nuthin!

Comment from The Catlizard King (of Haiku)
Time: July 31, 2007, 10:01 am

Canaries ARE delicious
They taste like chicken

Comment from S. Weasel
Time: July 31, 2007, 10:38 am

Hey, yer Majesty…want that typo fixed?

Comment from Lokki
Time: July 31, 2007, 11:02 am

Yes, please

Comment from S. Weasel
Time: July 31, 2007, 11:04 am

There. I hate to make changes without asking. Other people’s comments shouldn’t have an “edit” button next to them — that’s just creepy.

Now posterity will never know which word you fluffed.

Comment from porkthebean
Time: July 31, 2007, 11:24 am

Wow weasel. Your catlizard has some sweet skills. You should think about marketing them. Bling up your car and become a one weasel/one catlizard carnival. You would never have to worry about deadlines again.

Comment from Dawn
Time: July 31, 2007, 11:46 am

Unless posterity was paying real close attention. Patagoian. Common mistake, if I had a million dollars every time I mispelled that word, well….I’d be a millionaire by now.

Comment from Lokki
Time: July 31, 2007, 12:08 pm

Dawn – How often do you get a chance to spell Patagonian in a normal lifetime? Millions? I sure hope not. Of course, there IS the old song:

By the sea, by the sea, by the Patagonian sea,
You and I, You and I, oh how Patagonian we’ll be.
I love to be beside your side, beside the sea,
Beside the seaside, by the Patagonian sea!

But when you’re singing, you don’t really have to be able to spell it, do you?

Does anybody else miss McGoo’s touch? He’s so much better at this stuff than I am.

Comment from jwpaine
Time: July 31, 2007, 12:13 pm

Slightly misspelled words
Are hardly a substitute
For good weasel porn

Comment from Obsolete McGoo
Time: July 31, 2007, 1:01 pm

Hell, Lokki – I was sitting here silently admiring your never-ending stream of good work! And you even have time to tease the Filter! You’ve even done “time” in the Big F. Now that’s breadth and depth of talent. Oh! to be young again…

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