Off-Suit Productions

Art Gallery Employee- bridger jones

A week before leaving the planet, we decided to have a show. Photos were mounted on foam, in order to pay for the show, and possibly make some cash for the trip.

Above Lai Thai restaurant downtown Casper, curious fellow carbon uprights perused a collection of paintings that had been collecting dust for the past four years. The Cigar room glittered beautiful oils by CJ, undertones of comedic lingerings, perfectly balanced by bold inked figures by Eric, dog hair ridden, stepped on asbestos paper pictures by myself.

The cranberry quarterly made its’ second appearance in 2 years. Full of dramatic action, as well as some celebrity smut, as well as Chevy Celebrity’s with dubs. Subaru Brats too. A must read for the Winter Romance novel enthusiast. now available in the Itunes APP store, as well as in Droid Swap meet Every saturday at the Central Wyoming Fairgrounds industrial building.

After the show, i felt strange. I felt much weirder than any moment in my life up until then. People who came, (some i hadn’t seen in 10+ years) Along with the closest friends- Grandparents, moms, strange faces that sink lower, wrinkles like mirrors behind myself in a restroom, never-ending. in front of me.

Everything felt good. Euphoric most of the time. I find myself just starring deeply into others eyes, just feeling- saying not a word. just feeling that comfort beyond wheels. beyond words.

After the show, i was so hungry, sick from an awful cold- Drove to Wal-mart by myself at 1am- my inner thighs where chafed from a constant power walk, back and fourth- Walking through wal-mart, nearly crying, in a deranged strut, looking, for something. I found some wild Caught mackerel in water, and bought the most expensive cheese i could find.

After, i drove up the mountain- a weird, grey night. brisk. I continued past my turn to Hogadon road, to the firebreak sled hill. Lightly covered with snow. As i pulled into the parking lot, my headlights illuminated a multicolored boogie board. The moon lit hill summoned me.

I wobbled myself up the hill-

As i reached the top, turned around and sat. a slight fear of mountain lion. Started sprinting down hill, throwing the boogie board down. Next, i chest plant on the board, as it fails to slide, digging my face into the icy quiver.

Went home.

hahahahaha

The Cranberry Quarterly is due to expel a second issue any time now. Don’t say I didn’t warn you. This time, I will make it available to all ten readers of this unfortunately unread blog project.

Side note, I am sick of doing freelance work. I don’t even like the word… free lance. That’s like a knight-for-hire that doesn’t get paid or a pro-bono gigolo. HA! (bono, heh) ANYWAY. Freelancing hurts the soul as badly as any other job in life. Sure, work is good for you and humiliating and all that, but I tire of not getting paid simply because I don’t have a dedicated team of lecherous debt collectors on my team.

News Flash – Morgan is trapped on a tiny island in the mid-Pacific toiling his days away plucking taro from the earth and contemplating how he can close his facebook account. This makes his 2nd attempt at Castaway status, this time with an orange MG and more rum. Please wish him well and send him money.

So that’s it for today, brave readers of semi-updated useless blogs. Gimme a shout if you like, I will ignore only the non-offensive messages of hope and praise.

you should open this in another window and watch the gif. it’s like a low-rent music video with soul.spoonsbears