Gary and I have been poaching the golf course down the street after hours. The sun’ll be setting and the golfers are all gone and we’ll hike down the hill and throw the ball around some on the nice grass. The little man loves it. He hauls ass. I throw the tennis ball as fas as I can and Gary goes after it like a bat out of hell. We do it a good 25 times and man, he’ll be pooped. A good night out. Dog’s gotta run.

Wouldn’t miss this one for the fuckin’ world. Mark yer calendars for July 30th. (Coulter, you in?)

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Indoor Living: Dachshund Div. (Offered up by fellow dog lover, Jason Sturgill.)

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Ledouxville, man.

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Some great stuff here too: Arthur Jones.

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And from Wisconsin of all places, even more fun shit here, sent in by Styk at the D.O.E.: The Little Friends of Printmaking.

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Been listening to Gillian Welch a whole bunch. Haunting stuff.

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11-year-old Colin Phemister is in town. Goo’s nephew. The kid needs a haircut.

Come over man and let’s rock. You on guitar, me on drums, Gary on the barking.