Monthly Archives: November 2014

Where it all went down

Vingettes of Various Main Street Denizens

I worked a job where I was able to go outside and chain smoke a lot. These are some of the people I met while bored, working in this seemingly abandoned food court building facing Main street and next to a little parquette. Late 2012 to early 2014

I've got jib


Dee & Dee

Homeless couple, seemed harmless at first. The guy ended up accusing me of selling his girlfriend heroin and got it into his head that me and my friend Neil banged her. He threatened my life multiple times while I was at work. I found out he was on probation for assault with a deadly weapon.  He got my phone number somehow and was calling it, threatening me and Neil. It got pretty serious.

She started showing up with a black eye and his name carved across her entire forearm Slayer style. I started carrying mace. She told him it was true that Neil and I had banged her(after him torturing her into saying it, obviously). It was not true. This made it worse.

This weird guy Shane that was always hanging around said if Dee came back again he’d have his cop brother go fuck with him off the books in uniform, but they disappeared. I was having a smoke 6 months later and the girl (also called Dee) came back all cleaned up. She gave me $20 that she owed me (not from herion just from me being a good person), and said he was in jail.

Tonight, Neil’s roommate Frank told me that Dee was trying to rent a room at his house last week. Frank said how Dee said he knew Neil when he mentioned him, and said that he still has beef with me. The roommate then called Neil, found out the story, and luckily did not give him the place or tell him where Neil lives.

GG Allin

Gutter punkest kid I have ever met. He had this friend named Sunny. They were in a weird Ricky vs Cory / Trevor type relationship where GG would just treat Sunny like total shit even tho GG was actually way smaller than she was. Super aggressive panhandler — he just demanded dollars from people walking down the street and got all up in their face about it. Played really good punk ukulele.

He always brought me a bunch of stolen shit as offerings or something. My favorite leather jacket I got from him. Got this really nice Tibetan jacket that I gave to a girl from BC cause I’m pretty sure he stole it from the store next to my work. He smoked a lot of meth and was shooting heroin.

He was always nice to me, but a superdick to everyone else. He had the Nomad punk symbol tatted on his face. Always wore these dirty overalls that were way too big for him. One time, he took them off to change and he was wearing really nice clothes underneath. Like fresh designer jeans and a white shirt. Totally bizarre.

I was nice to him so he was always loitering around my work, which yes, got bad, but I was so bored and my boss was never there so I didn’t care. One day he talked shit to the jerk food owner whose son was working with her (because he was on house arrest for like 15 B&E’s) and he punched GG Allen in the face or something, which was for the best probably, since he was really bateing out my scene. I was not there for that, but he never really came back afterwards.

The last time I saw GG, he had a bandage on his arm and he told me he dug into his arm to see the veins inside and had just got out of the hospital. I hope he is OK haven’t seen him around for a while.


Jess was a scavenger, always looking for roaches and butts in the park out back my work. She always wore this facemask thing like batman, I’m pretty sure she was actually a guy. Super introverted. Once I asked her where she got the mask and she said Thailand and I asked how long she was there for and she said, “I don’t remember.”

Adam and Lisa

Total scavenger hippies. Never slept in shelters. Never panhandled. Sometimes busked. Got like 14 g worth of roaches after a pot conference at the convention center. Always had drums and instruments and juggled and shit.


Nice homeless kid my age. Didn’t do drugs just wanted to do art and smoke pot and drink beer.

Dog food Dan

Homeless with his old three legged dog Goliath. Totally normal till he got drunk and then would be talking to himself, yelling for change at people that weren’t really there. Etc.

Hotsauce and Goblin

Rail riders. Got two puppies and left. Hotsauce returned six months later with one of the puppies grown into a huge dog and a hole an inch deep in the back of her head from a fight she and Goblin had in Vancouver or something.


9 years clean off smoking crack for 15 years before that (since he was 14) works for the Salvation Army men’s shelter now even tho he is technically banned from it as a client. Never ending chain smoking tales of smoking crack in Toronto and squeege punk life.

The Sandwich Lovers

One day this sandwich place had just moved in. Squeege and I were standing around talking shit. These two guys came in and start yelling at the sandwich place owners, a father and son.

They take it out into a vacant stall in front of my booth. “We are going to come to your house,” they were yelling at the dad. “We are going to make your dad our bitch,” they yelled at the son.

Me and Squeege went over there and pushed them out of the building telling them to fuck off.

That Saturday one of the guys came back, with a girl this time. The sandwich place was closed on the weekends. The guy was asking me when they were open next and trying to tell me next time he came in I better not touch him or he would call the cops.

“Call the cops,” I told him. “You were threatening them in my workplace making a scene. Call the cops right now.” He told me they were creditors which seemed suspicious.

They left and I never saw them again.


19 years old single mother on welfare pregnant with second baby from two different asshole dads. One homeless kid who fucked off, and one 40 year old guy who just got out of jail. She’s a good mom tho.


Was totally set up. She had this inheritance and a nice place, but terrible social anxiety. In the brief time I knew her, while she was pregnant she sent basically all her money to this guy who lives in Mexico, who had already beaten her, thinking she was going to go move in with him. I don’t think she went.


My age. Homeless meth smoker, but always looked good / clean and you could never tell he was homeless or on meth till after a couple days on a bender and then he would get super paranoid.


Homeless punk with his dog Ray. I befriended him. We drank beer and chilled out. Some times i’d sit with them while Neil panhandled and his dog Ray got tones of sloppy love from drunk girls. I let him stay at my place to have somewhere to leave his dog while he looked for a job when I went to Burning Man. I got back and he had a job as a bike messenger and a place of his own. Now he has an even better place with a huge backyard for Ray. We became good friends.

Once, someone stole Ray while Neil was sleeping on the street. He long boarded through the city for 3 hours zig zag pattern and found the guy with Ray. The guy had taken his collar, tags and leach off, and had him tied with shoelaces in a slipknot around Ray’s neck.

He showed up at my house around 6:30 am with Ray, I’m unsure to this day if he killed the bastard.

Hippy Dan

Was the guitar player In this band the Killer Wards that hit it kind of big but he got charged with attempted murder or something on someone who he said sexually assaulted someone he knew, he lost it all and was outed from the band.

He got shot once while I knew him. Hit with a stray bullet while standing in a bar and was so drunk he didn’t realize what happened. Went home and woke up covered in blood. Still didn’t go to the hospital until he collapsed on the street.

If it had been an hour longer he would have died from lead poisoning. I saw the bullet hole a couple days later. His lung also collapsed twice in the time I knew him.


Gwardo is a much older bike messenger. He’s the type of guy you might see with like, barbie strapped to his handle bars or wearing a santa hat or something. He is like the dad of all the bike messenger kids and always lends them money and helps them whenever he can even though he is super broke too. He has all these gwardisms such as calling beer ‘barley soup’ or saying things like ‘all the ganja is gonorrhea when the weed is gone or saying ‘those goddamn racists’ reffering to bike messenger race participants and so on. He’s always friendly, always has beers and native ciggarettes to share, and works really hard. He’s just a good guy.


Paul worked at this bakery that moved in near the end of this era of my life. One day he dissapeared, and the next day the jerk food lady told me he was on TV and was sentanced to five years in prison for a DUI he had from 2 years ago, when he was only 19. He tore his SUV into 3 separate pieces and killed his passenger.

He looked like an Armani model and I worry how he is doing in there….

The Park

Crack Deal

The park I worked in front of was a notorious crack park until the Safe Streets Act came into the city 10 or so years ago says Squeege. Not like it used to be anymore, but it was still a hub for shifty characters for sure.

The Building

The building I worked in was originally a chicken slaughter house. The floors were slanted so the blood could roll down into drains in the floor. Sometimes late at night you would swear you heard the cluck cluck clucking of chicken ghosts.

After that it was a dive food stand place for many years, but just before I started working there they renovated it, and jacked up rent cost so high that no one could afford to set up shop In there anymore.

There was only one other stand for the first year I worked there and by the time I left there was only four booths total. I had total freedom. The place looked abandoned all the time and that is why we eventually went under. No one ever came in.

– Nebraska Thunderfuck XoXo

*Names and street name changed to protect the not so innocent

Flaming Sign Artwork

Flame effects like the BEAST are fun to build and operate, but a more mellow, sustainable fire can offer an ongoing ambiance that the big stuff just can’t. I had some old steel shelves lying around and decided to try making a flaming sign. For the pattern, I used the Sacred Bat, which is the symbol of my Burning Man camp Bat Country. I plan to give them this sign as a gift when it’s completed. As with anything I make these days, it will break down for easy transport and have a sturdy stand allowing you to set it up easily.


The sign itself is an old steel shelf that I cut out with a plasma cutter. The flames come from 1/4″ copper tubing that I bent to follow the contours of the bat. There are holes drilled along the copper tube for propane to come out. The tubing is held in place with stainless steel wire. I used stainless steel because it won’t corrode when exposed to the elements. And by “elements” I mean fire.

Still needs doing:

  • Make a free standing sign stand
  • Balance the fire so there’s more or less the same amount of flame at the end as there is at the beginning

One of the problems of making a flaming pipe with holes is that the gas likes to escape the holes towards the beginning of the run more than at the end. So the fire at the start of the pipe is bigger than that at the end. This is easy to see in the picture below where I had the gas pressure turned up higher. I hope to fix this by blocking up most of the holes towards the start and maybe drilling more towards the end. The other way to mitigate this effect would be to supply propane at both ends of the copper tube, but I’m hoping to avoid this as it’s much more work.

Not that the flames on one side are much higer than on the other.

Not that the flames on one side are much higer than on the other.

Building an improvised catapult from a recycled bicycle

I left the last Halloween celebration feeling inspired, and got the idea that I wanted to build a catapult to shoot flaming projectiles into a cardboard castle doused in gasoline. My friend Nate is a bike messenger and can build anything out of anything, so I went to his house and mentioned it. He built one in a half hour completely out of shit in his room. Materials used: an old bike, curtain rods and duct tape. Hopefully Nate can make it out to the next Celebration, but he says if not, I can bring the catapult with me. It works amazing and I can’t wait to see it in action in an open area!

Old bike parts will soon be a catapult with flaming projectiles

Image 1 of 5

Video will be posted soon!

Lost and Found: Deer season edition

Lost Buck


This note appeared on my door where I found it upon returning from out of town. So I called the guy. He was very appreciative that I called and he explained that he’d lost a good buck but didn’t want to trespass to find it. I invited him down and when he showed up, he got out of his truck and handed me a $20 gift certificate to a nearby restaurant. We took the dog and walked to where he had last seen the buck. The blood trail was obscured by the snow, but the dog soon started digging and turned up some blood. We followed the trail and found that it ended at the creek. Unfortunately, the deer apparently tried to go swimming. But at least we now have closure and know where it went. The dog and I have made a new friend also secured some hunting privileges in primo turkey and squirrel territory.

On Freedom

Overpopulation; the infinate monkey therom. So spaced out and there ain’t no space? Here at Töad Meädow there is.

Let us rage hard into the darkness and not get lost in the banalities of life, for this is the time of great expression. We cannot lose. There is no reason. There is no lesson. No time like the present.

Do not let the dull lights of comfort and television trap you, for in their warmth is where we shall go to die.

As we spiral outward into reality at a frantic pace we must surrender only to the chaos. To fight the supreme deity that is chaos, is to drink against the grain of the liqueur, and such is not the way.

Horror… Horror has a face… and you must make a friend of horror. Horror and moral terror are your friends. If they are not, then they are enemies to be feared.

It is judgment that defeats us.

Freedom from the opinion of others… Freedom from the opinions of yourself.  This is where salvation lies.

To celebrate freedom is the only way to know you have it. Let us celebrate freedom with the great hubris it deserves!

Töad Meädow. Making it happen.