I Got Dem Ol’ Bubblegum Machine Blues

I woke up far too late in the day after having had far too many beers late into the night.  The spring sky was grey, threatening rain as I sat getting myself caffeinated, and had it not been for my voracious appetite for tobacco, I most likely would have stayed hidden away safely in the boredom of my little blue house for the day.  But, knowing the half of a pack that I had on hand wasn’t going to be nearly enough to get me through the night that I could already feel barreling my way, there was no choice but to head out into the world.  The local neighborhood market was its usual version of awfulness.  It was more crowded than normal, filled with pinballing …

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Total Ellipsis of the Heart…

It seems the whole of my existence is bound by the rigid principles of punctuation. All these tiny marks punched into thin paper help to anchor me, late into an unseasonably snowy spring night when the muffled blanket of unexpected purity strains to cover this sickly City of Wayne shivering alone in the dark.  Little tangible reminders, peppering the fragility of an entirely different whiteness, deeply regimented and somehow keeping time with the lullaby piano music echoing through an empty blue house teetering on new collapse, stand out to me and I realize just how deeply I am caught in their embrace.  Sometimes, they hit harsh and unforgiving.  Sometimes, like a heated, diasterous love affair tragically crumbling into that inevitable bittersweet nothingness, you simply cannot escape …

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Southern Kisses, Northern Practicalities

The red of her lips matched the burning tip of my lullaby cigarette glowing hot in the encroaching twilight of our day.   The smell of her sweaty sex, so recently defiled and satisfied, married itself to a cool evening breeze tickling the mountaintop.  The caress of a strong hand, so deceptively delicate in appearance, shared more than just the last of the day’s cigarettes with me.  And it sparked the insatiably of my passions all over again.  Her words tempted the appetite of my critical intellect.  The beautiful disaster of her catastrophically tousled hair tickled my fancy.  The shadowy outline of her compact form, casually leaning against the front porch rail, tempted the fire of my seductive demons so ravenously hungry to relish in the warmth …

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Run! It’s a Copper!

The other week I found myself lucky enough to have won an online auction for a sterling that nobody else seemed interested in (I was the only bidder).  Even with shipping and the additional handling charges added on, it was $20 typer. I knew going into it that the paint was a bit rough: Not too bad at first glance, BUT in the long, sordid history of this typer, it seems as though someone had spilled coffee onto it.  So even after cleaning the paint, the stains remained.  So, it was time to play.  But first, some more “as found” pics…. Showing some of the surprises inside, along with coffee stains…. Such a dirty girl…. Scuffs and stains…. Worn and dusty…. First step, disassembly and washing …

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Typer Brief: Case #1

 ~Re-purposing with a Purpose, Royalite Style Part One~   Over the summer I managed to acquire, as part of a group typer purchase, the sad remains of a 1958 Royalite.  The main body was dented and totally out of alignment.  The ribbon cover was broken AND bent, so it was pretty much pointless to try and repair.  The mechanics were sound, but cosmetically?  It was in rough shape.  I mean you can tell exactly how hard it fell and how it landed at some point in it’s journey to me. It had apparently belonged to the seller’s late wife and something about parting it out always bothered me.  It just sort of seemed too…sad…to turn it into a pile of parts to use in other machines.  …

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