
but for some reason still read every day. Instead of cutesy-poo jokes about family life starring a self-absorbed manchild, my version involves a man desperately crawling through post-Soviet industrial wreckage.


but for some reason still read every day. Instead of cutesy-poo jokes about family life starring a self-absorbed manchild, my version involves a man desperately crawling through post-Soviet industrial wreckage.


If you came of age in the nineties, you may remember the fad in Hare Krishna amongst the hardcore-listening kids from the sub-development down the road. As far as I know, none of those bands were named Swami, so I’d like to offer this out to any time traveling twenty-year-olds wearing a neatly pressed Shelter t-shirt.


The direct result of listening to too much old-timey music. I must be going through my R. Crumb phase, minus the gross stuff.