My brother Darryl and my other brother Darryl

After a long day at work this awaits you at the gas pump.

OT! My location as of 2:55pm. Holy ship!

SIDE-HATCHED

This gem was in the side box on the truck I used Monday.
Did not see it until I was gassing up at the end.
The thought occurred to take it home and pound it until two prominent thoughts showed them selves.

The first: I had consumed four of these while gearing up for a party at my house back when they were first introduced and how I stood the buzz for approximately one half hour before passing out 20 minutes into the party. Lesson learneded.

The second is that I am 5 weeks into a wagon ride that is to last until a black man sits in a white house.

There is a third thought, which was much more aggressive:
THIS SHIT IS NASTY!

ICE BREAKER 1-9

The conversation (read with Italian accent) starts out with:
"I only had sex with prostitute one time, I was thirteen.
She told me to hurry up, kept asking if I was finished yet.
It affected me my whole life... It was my first time. "

Awkward, awkward silence.

"I got gonorrhea too. Couldn't tell my mother so I told my sister instead..."
After digesting I suggested it was perhaps the STD and older sister with the upper hand that might have been what ailed him.

RE: CROPPED PICS ON NEW POSTS

Too tired to fix.
Don't much care anyway.
Click on the picture and it will open in it's intended size and you will have something over me because I made it so you would have to click and extra time or two.
Or is it I that will have something over you?
Been up since 12:45am and need to nap.
That is what I am all about these days.
Certainly not this blog.

BIG BABY

Thanks to the Fisher family and my job the little one now has this big ass baby starring down at her from above her crib.

Also note the size of a 17 month old child to the boot of a 34 year old man child with learning disabilities.
This shit is scientifically astonishing!

TO A T

Honestly, I give bad instructions. I am guilty of too much information therefore getting the person lost of just plain confused.
Deb here on the other hand is very succinct and to the point.


I'm not sure what this note is about (human slave? dog? cat? real doll?) but I imagine it's for some of the upper crusted folks as most people I commiserate with don't have a server cabinet let along where to find one. And If we did locate said cabinet would we lock anything in it?

BOTTOM OF THE BARREL

That is where I found these two gents upon dumping the can at City Lights book store.

Funny how the sticker is over Jack's face when the store is built upon his image (among others) and it was Neal who died first...

WHERE IS VLAD WHEN YOU NEED HIM ER, HEM?

I know people are really getting juiced off vampire shit lately but is calling the creative director at your job Dracula really necessary?

And why destroy anything? We are just getting ready to fix shit.

Speaking of which:
On this same night I am working downtown at about 1:30am steadily working our down both sides of Sansome (often called Samson by some of the larger block heads, don't get me started on the pronunciation of Greenwhich) making a shit ton of noise and progress at the same time when we pull up to our last stop before California to service the 9 cans on the corner the gentleman in his BMW decides he is done posting an ad on Craigslist on his iphone and wants to leave, this is after we park the truck and touching cans mind you. I wave on Mr. Suddenly-in-a-pinch-to-bounce and he, still looking at his phone while pulling away almost hits my partner, to which my partner states:
"Probably an Obama voter..."
"Why is that?" I should mention that this is the same night of the 30 minute paid advertisement, a week before the election.
"Because he can't see what's going on!"
I let it go at that, I was already tired.

We worked together after the election and I chose to not rub it in his face, besides his full time partner who he enjoys the company of very much sports an Obama/Biden bumper sticker.
I figured that was punishment enough.
And he is a smoker..

AS PER DALLAS CLAYTON

I poached this from Dallas Clayton's site.
I if had any sort of stability I would write a note similar.
These days they are penned in me head to society as a whole.

TAPED TO A TRASH CAN

Dear Customer,

I thought I might drop you a line
letting you know that
I’ve gone through your waste
for the year
and discovered so much
about your habits
and the reasons you aren’t more successful.

Perhaps you will find this information helpful.

First:

You enjoy mayonaise
quite a bit.
I’ve found.
More than you are probably even aware.
As well
You seem to love
little gummy candies
Shaped like cellular phones, and tiny portable electronic devices.
Most people don’t even buy candy like this more than once
In their lives
But you have so many wrappers
And empty plastic cases
Still wet with colored sugar.

This is not food for an adult.
None of your neighbors
on the entire block
eat food like this,
not even during the holidays.

Also I couldn’t help but notice
You haven’t opened any of your bills
Not even the ones which are marked red for urgency.
You have no subscriptions
To newspapers or magazines of any worth
And seem to receive a plethora
Of gift catalogues for apparel companies
Which will embroider your name on the pocket of a sweater
Or deliver you a gift basket with a personalized
Teddy bear riding a motorcycle in leather chaps.

How do you even get on these lists?

I was impressed,
Or perhaps relieved
To find you’ve been drinking water,
But it does not even out
The number of tiny cans of individual champagne
And varieties of sexual energy drinks
Stacked into a pyramid.

You should not brag about things like this.
If you want to continue drinking alone
and stacking the evidence as some sort of
collegiate conquest
might I suggest a nice
draft beer.

Finally we need to address
the number and types of health and beauty products
you consume.
How many rashes can one person have?
It clearly states on the tubes
that these topical ointments
are not meant as a long term cure
and that if irritation persists
you should consult your doctor.

I am not usually one to judge
But your small plot in the landfill
Does not make for an attractive singles ad.

I am glad you are having fun,
but you have turned the corner
my friend
and now might just be the time to
start thinking
about your future.
It’s what’s best for all of us.

Hope you find this note helpful.

Thanks,
And good luck!

>> Garbage man.

LOOK KIDS. BIG BEN. PARLIMENT.

He's not gonna pork her Russ.

HE AINT HEAVY, HE'S MY BROTHER

I have let this dudes tunes in my head for at least 12 years.
I don't care what he does, it will always be good.

It's so pretty here...

THE NEW WAVE

I used to have a camera collecting problem. I also used to make a lot of money riding a bike, smoking pot and drinking coffee and somehow serving papers in the between. My weekends were spent combing thrift stores, flea markets and spots like Urban Ore for random cameras and other shit I thought would shape the house/room that identifies me.
I also shot a ton of film that still sits undeveloped in a zip lock bag(s).

I began to sell the cameras off in a pinch for cash. Mostly old Kodak Brownies in boxes and some old Land Cameras that were spotty and inconsistent at best. I kept the half frames I hoarded from my friends and continue to do so.

Today while distributing fliers for a big trash day in China Town my friend calls me over to his truck in Spanish. I don't speak a lick of it but have been told that I look like a "Mexican man", I have yet to find anyone to back this up other than the ones whom spoke it initially, so I do as I always do and walk over the source of culture. He says something about cameras and points inside the hopper where there are almost 30 Motts brand promotional Looney Tunes "toy" cameras. I grab the least nasty bag in the hopper and jam as many as I can in it.

I intend to keep some for the Magenius to smash while learning to capture what she sees, but if you want a soda can shaped 110 camera, get at me and we can arrange it.

MAY OR MAY NOT BE ME

If you were to go to the Italian Heritage Day parade this coming Sunday you may or may not see someone that looks like me dancing around with a can on his shoulder getting paid double time. I'm just sayin'.

PIRATE? WHAT PIRATE?

You cannot explain to these guys (my co-workers. Not the "My body is my temple now fuck me" guys on the cover) just who Tom from Finland is and why you tried to hide a book of this content on the utility box of the truck and then proceeded to hide it, now covered in grease in your lunch bag.

You just can't.

I am still trying to shake the nick name I obtained due to my subtle similar appearance to a certain 8 time gold medalist.
Tall and big ears really get you places in this world.

So imagine me being the guy who smuggles gay porn reading material home. Try shaking that. It may only make it worse.

Now I fight some battles at this job i.e. cyclists rights, vegetarianism, gay rights, cultural rights but trying to convince a knuckle dragger that I am not a "fag" seems like a waste of time and effort to me.

I just like Tom of Finland, I really enjoyed the article in the last issue of RVCA ANP Quarterly did on his career. I also tend to enjoy Homosexuals in whatever dose they come in.

There is a crude couple of jokes in there somewhere.


rar!

SHIN SHOTS

If you see me around in the next week or two ask me about my grade A shinner (not the eye) that I got from my partner who, after showing him the series of pics I found of this gal in various stages of dress and her peoples rolling blunts with six-pack abs a flexed threw the entire stack he watched me fish out of the hopper back in the hopper and proceed to run the blade. I told him to stop the blade and reached for the pictures when he the raised the tipper bar which took me out at the shin. Damn near put me in the truck.

Gripping my now larger and bleeding shin and the sole survivor (up there) I thought half heartedly to myself "this dude must not like black folks...".
Later in conversation he dropped the term "Jungle Bunny" and referred to a Mosque
as a "Taliban Church"...
Pretty much summed up my assumptions.

HIGH HOPES

When you see polaroids you get all jumpy and shit like you just found a gem that will
live on your fridge and instigate conversation at the party you have every three years for your birthday.
And sometimes they are just shots of houses in the Sunset.
A little art school placement and shit works out ok.
Still no party in the kitchen.
Not any more any way.

MAGENIUS!

Every asshole says that their kid is magical.
This asshole has proof...

RECENT FINDS.

The family is feeling this in full force right now so it hangs in the kitchen where the majority of the action and neglect take place.


Maybe with the documentary coming out soon I can get some internet cash... Then again it is my size and could very well get me into some awkward conversations with over zealous fans out in public especially after I tell them I fell asleep on the floor in the middle of their last show in SF.


This raised a ruckus when it was sold at good old Urban Outfitters. The maker was sued and shutdown, you can see the site, which is little more than the bangers from below is still active in the UK. It's pretty bad...
You may be saying "This is so 2004..."
and my reply? "trash is timeless."

YOUR EYES!

I found this in a truck that belongs to someone else. He had it tucked away and I did not feel as if I should own it, nor would I want to be the one someone thinks scratched the eyes off of Miss 2.5" landing strip as was the case with my Mother who caught a glimpse of it as I scrolled through photos on my phone of my daughter with a face full of my green smoothie.
Now it is I with green upon his face...


I should also mention that the eyes appear to have been scratched on the negative which causes one to ponder the scratchers intent a bit further.

Deep...

SQUASH SHOPLIFTERS

VIA SFGATE (Which sucks nuts these days! What do they hire the Yearbook staff from high school to write some of the shit that gets put up? Because it's online does that mean that you no longer need to edit for flow, typos or content? I know I am but a caveman with a degree in bullshit but I can still read, despite not being able to write...)

Michigan authorities say a shoplifting suspect died after being crushed in a trash compactor where she was hiding.

The Eaton County sheriff's department said two women fled a Lansing-area TJ Maxx discount store after spraying a security guard with Mace. A deputy found one of the women behind a trash compactor.

Deputies say the woman wouldn't say where the other woman was hiding.

Shortly afterward, authorities got a call about a woman trapped in the trash compactor. Tyree Monique Tate of Delta Township was pulled from the machine by rescuers and taken to a hospital, where the 26-year-old later died.

READER POLE

Remember the reader poll about recycling sex toys?
That was my secret exit strategy, I was going to let the idea germinate/percolate/marinate for a bit and just fire it up and be rich off turning
pocket virginias into neoprene knee braces and the like.

I have been beaten to the punch.
I feel as if I have been penetrated at my very core.

As of right now it seems that I will continue to sweat and curse in the bowels of other peoples buildings until my rap career as MC BIGGA-MORTIS jumps off.

OBSERVEDED

En route to work I can eat an entire bowl of oatmeal from the toll plaza to the end of the bridge while steering with my knees.
Not to worry, no one drives well at 4am.

Upon entering a building that is assumed to be covered I feel water hit my head, knowing full well that it is not raining I scratch my now moist head and look upward to discover that the building in not covered, it is In fact not raining, and I am being wetted by the off spray of someones shower. That alone causes some mixed feelings...

You smell a lot of folks making bacon and/or coffee. Which makes me want breakfast foods in the worst way. Make my bacon fake please.

This job would be a good one for a thief of womens underpants. Not saying I do, just sayin'...
We work in and near a lot of laundry rooms and folks like to leave that shit on the top. Secret message? There is also this possibility.
Not my chair, not my problem.

Working on Pine street at 5:15am, for those of you that don't know Pine and Bush streets are the mini freeways of the city running east to west, that being said people drive like fugitives on these streets at all hours. So we need to get these streets early to avoid blocking traffic and being killed dead. Before we service the first customer a gentleman fully dressed whom appeared to have been up for some time starts in on us about coming too early and how he has called the company time and time again to request a later service time.
What he doesn't understand is that we are not an airline nor a cineplex, the fact is that it's Monday and right now is his service time.
What I don't understand is if you are outside at 5am walking to get your coffee, crack, blow job or bus why does our being here bother you as if you were asleep? Granted he could have a baby...
"I just must live in the city! But simply cannot do so with out the comforts of our summer house."
Noise complaints are killing this job slowly. Old timers say the company used to tell folks to get fucked and if they did not like it they could try to find a different garbage company in the city.

An article in the NY Times on "San Men" quoted an NYC garbage man as saying "We are only noticed on three occassions, when we make noise to early, block traffic or don't pick up someones trash."
Me thinks that sounds about right, as we are ignored by and large.

It is easy to become jaded.

Go here to listen to folks much more eliquent and smarter than I fill your ear holes with more talk of trash.

Time for the 7:30pm phone call to find out when I go to work tomorrow.
followed by push ups, chocolate cake and BSG.

NOW THAT'S A SHAME...

There is nothing wrong with some Michael Cera.

THROWING AWAY A PERFECTLY GOOD WHITE BOY

Amid a shit ton of packing peanuts as if it were never seen...
You can learn all about what goes into making what gets tossed out here.

WIT ESCAPES ME MOST DAYS

If anybody were to sing your theme song wouldn't you want it to be the Simpson's?

ILITERACY IS NOT SPELLED WITH TWO T'S

Crappy photo of the new stamp I had made.
When I find a book, basketball (not too sure how well that will work, doesn't matter anyway, the dog gets all the balls I find and her reading level is way above rubber stamps and shit) or in this case a moleskin journal, I will stamp it and set it back into the stream, unless of course our household can put it to use, in that case I will stamp it as well and every time I use it I will give myself a reach-around sort of pat on the back that says "You really do have half a brain son." and roll through life knowing that I know how to make a rubber stamp come to life.

Then one day, years later, after I have broken my neck falling down 30 stairs with a 300lb can or burlap sack of trash falling upon my paralyzed body I will angrily demand the stamp be thrown in the trash and some other young chump will find this and crown it the highest point in irony and the world will fold in on itself and we will start all over again like the intro to the Simpson's that has Homer evolving from cell to caveman to caveman with a job.

This thing has that much power.

Touch it.

SOME GIRLS MOTHERS

Trying to laugh about John Lithgow's part in The world According to Garp with a gentlemen from Mezcala does not work out loud as you would imagine it would in your pop culture addled head...

That did not stop us from cracking up over this rather husky trans-dressed individual that climbed into the back of the hopper (where the trash goes before the blade scoops it into the body of the truck) to get a skateboard while the truck was running, of course I had no Idea that she was going to need to climb in to get her roll on.

Check the sweet sequence I shot of her bstgbs....
Pulled it clean, I think it is the overcoat that really sends the message.

Another fun occurrence today; I pulled a can up from the basement in a TL building today and once i opened the lid there was a fresh yet dead pigeon staring back at me with it's hollow, hollow eyes...

IT'S NOT YOU, IT'S ME, NO IT'S YOU, REALLY...

With the new aggressive campaign the city has taken up I am surprised that we have yet to see one of these pop up stateside.

I have caught one before, I can catch one again.
I got my mitt, coach, put me in!

THROW IN THE DUCT TAPE AND PERSONALIZED LICENSE PLATE AND WE HAVE A DEAL

Oh citizens of Cow Hollow...
You used to roll so hard.

THE SHIT YOU COME UP WITH

Imagine if it were dark and you had to step between two containers to push this one out for service... and the above is why you push from the ends and not the middle.

I believe the term for this is "Wall Shits" but you may have to adapt the title to the location of the actual shit.

Maybe I should ditch the blog and start the "Wall Shits Journal", there are so many examples in the city, perhaps that is the first off-shoot blog.

I need a staff to bark orders about shit at first tho, the possibilites are endless:
WHAT IS THIS SHIT?
WHAT IS THIS SHIT DOING HERE?
WHOSE SHIT IS THIS?
I DID NOT KNOW YOU COULD WALL SHIT A FIRE HYDRANT?!

G IN THE AIR

Been reading this while working nights in the area it takes place. This guy is the best and it's no wonder you hear the name Dashiell being called by three to four different set of parents, it's like Django but possibly cooler.
I am hooked on crime novels lately. I do not look forward to the day my man dies...

So I think Wikipedia owes me a coke or some shit.
That's what the kids do now-a-days right?
Coke?

its 3:30AM, I'm showering and sleeping until I cannot any longer....

HEY DILDO!

Check the new poll to the left to the left...

Yesterday was my first day back after a week and a half of being off on family leave, I was sick the whole time, still am... wahhhh!

The call came to report to the yard at 4:30am Thursday morning and I will be going somewhere and doing something. Its difficult to go to bed at 8:30pm when you have been staying up until 11pm watching BSG for a week and a half...
I finally got to bed at 11 and rose at 3am...
Pretty Sweet!

I went on a food waste route, got home at 11am and continued to do shit around the house and yard to ready it for our daughters first birthday.
No nap, and that usually leads to me being called in at night.
So when the phone rang at 7pm telling me to come to work at 9:30pm I was not surprised, a bit angry at God, but not surprised.

So in my first 24 hours back to work I slept 4 hours, worked 11 hours, and paced for 12...

STYLE C.H.U.D.S.!

>
Two great tastes that taste great together!
I dont know why it posted twice ( I FIXED IT BITCHES!!!), the tech support guys are not in yet and I have to be at a meeting in the Sequoia room at 8:30 with Dan from accounting...
Besides I am a trash man not I.T.. ad besides again, this video is that good that you will watch it twice or maybe even mash it up for a club mix you lady pants wearing chud!

Also, and so on, this appears to be a series go here
to see the rest.

THIS GUY WALKS INTO THE DOCTORS OFFICE AND SAYS "I'M A TEE PEE! I'M A WIG WAM! I'M A TEE PEE! I'M A WIG WAM!". THE DR. SAYS "RELAX, YOU'RE TWO TENTS"

Now this is the second tent I have found while working.
Every so often there are trends in what folks are throwing out, sometimes I toss out five dog beds in one week, other times its dvd players or bread boxes.
The universe is a funny place.
I should start a freelance demographic/trend tracking/marketing company, I see the shit you throw out and I see the boxes of the shit you just bought...




Should it come as a surprise that the dirty foot prints on the door are Birkenstocks?
Would it be any different if they were bare feets?
Do you think broseph pulls them out only when he goes camping or to Cochella?
would I be a sharper person if I did not crowd my head with such crap?

On a lighter note:
Some asshole threw a ground bloom flower (firework) at me one night a few weeks back while I was working in China Town, he then got stuck at a red light as we approached.
I suppose I was more grateful than I was angry because it got the heart pumping a bit and distracted me from the thousand of pink bags you tend to see go in and come out of the truck when working in China Town at 1am.