Monthly Archive: August 2006

Aug 31 2006

Public Cans of Austin: Kerby Lane (South Lamar)


The grim and sinister baby-changing table in the can at Kerbey Lane has graffiti all over it. It’s where all the infant junkies of South Austin go to get changed. I knew you would want to see it, but—and I blame my dog Bert for this—the pictures came out like crap on accounta when I …

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Aug 29 2006

In Which Ron Sullivan Raises The Level Of Blogular Discourse To Dizzying New Heights

“Ever had a good close look at a bug’s junk? Lord, lord.”

Aug 29 2006

Dinner Bell

When last we spoke I had set off on an enchilada hunt. This entailed begging Stingray to drive me—my bum leg has infantilized me to the maddening extent I must be toted like a warm six-pack—to iconical Tex-Mex dive Curra’s (the one on Oltorf). According to the sign, Curra’s is ‘the mother of all Mex.’ …

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Aug 29 2006


Phil. 2006.

Phil My ears were burning. Generally this portends another hot flash, but occasionally it signals something even more hilarious: someone in Blogville has invoked me. I was moved to act. “Phile,” I said (Phil is my secretary). “Check the internet! And bring me another tub of Cool Whip!” Phil checked the internet. Sure enough, “Twisty” …

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Aug 28 2006



Footwear as birth control. Photo of three of the author’s lower extremities by Stingray Linking to yesterday’s essay on misogyny in sporty-wear is this post by pro-sport-corset blogger Random Bird. I am sorry to report that Random Bird’s remarks are mostly of a nature that causes bitter tears to spring to the despondent auntly eye …

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Aug 26 2006

Sports, Corsetry, and the Empowerful Woman


Sportcorset This modern preoccupation with the Empowerful Woman was funny for a while, but it begins to wear thin. I predict that if a post-patriarchal social history of the New Millennium ever gets written there will be a hilarious chapter on this bizarre, buffoonish construct. I allude to the confident, photogenic, entirely fictitious female who …

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Aug 22 2006



Perp and victim. Photo by Stingray. I must put all speculation to rest. The gripping details of my ankle surgery are as follows. They appear to be sushi and/or teeth, but the chunks from yesterday’s winsome post-op foto are actually fragments of various ankle bones. The fragments gradually chipped off over years and years of …

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Aug 21 2006

Greetings From The Zubik Bungalow


The featured chunks were smuggled out of the operating room by my handy sibling, Tidy. Tidy was lucky to get them. Apparently ankle chunks, even those as rare and beautiful as mine, are considered a biohazard or a terrorist threat and are usually incinerated or imprisoned without representation. Greetings, earthlings. At last I return from …

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Aug 13 2006

A Sad Diminution of the Human Spirit in the Proliferation of Machine-Made Ornament


Self-Portrait Number 7: Watching Made-For-TV Biopic With Moon and Lime Green Recliner Twisty + new camera = unprecedented banality. As old dead John Ruskin said, “Photoshop will only make us shallower in our understanding.”

Aug 13 2006



Regular readers will recognize the foul countenance of Bert, my 1-year-old golden retriever, and his puffy ball, also 1 year old. Bert, as I may have mentioned once or twice, is singlehandedly responsible for having dug the hole into which I innocently plummeted a few months ago, reducing what had once been an award-winning ankle …

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