Pictures of Fake Trees

Fake trees are plentiful in the Los Angeles area. They help to promote the non-green initiative found here. Also, they kinda look nice, nicer than unadorned cellphone towers at least. I love driver's photography, and this project let me showcase a lot of my skills. The 405 isn't dangerous enough on its own for me. But attempting to get a decent shot of of a fake palm tree in the middle of 4 lanes of traffic is just right.

Alternatively Acquired Bottles of Water

The sign at work said "Do Not Take: Water is for Mother's Day Pamper Party." And I fell in love. Sure Mother's Day had already passed. I still got great joy from taking all the water bottles I could stuff inside of stuff I brought to take water bottles in. It is one of my greatest joys, stealing useful items that don't hurt anyone if you steal them. Just like the oranges on the tree behind the Y.

Vintage ill-gotten oranges

I eat about 200 oranges a year from the tree behind the YMCA. I don't know who owns the tree. I don't care who owns the tree. 

Racquetball rackets

That must be confusing for children learning how to spell, to come across a phrase like :"racquetball rackets". Can we just spell words however we like? Are there no rules governing language? Is there a God? Poor children. My roommate, "The Racquetball Guy" has thousands of racquetball rackets in our apartment. I like to think of them as houseguests.

My roommate's guitars

He's a street musician, and these are his instruments. My favorite is the all-white "Peace" guitar. 

Cattle

My parents started their herd with 20 calves salvaged from a train wreck in Arizona, which they transported back to Missouri in a gutted school bus. Gutted school buses can be fun. I don't use the word cattle that often; I usually use the familiar form "cows". They are beautiful, delicious animals.

Letters from a crazy old tenant

 Her name was Denise Dunson, and for whatever reason, she began leaving large packets filled with letters she'd written each day on the doorknob to my office. I guess I had never told her she shouldn't. The letters smelled of incense, which I decidedly hate. Also, she chanted in kabbalistic prayer during some of the worst hours of the day for loud kabbalistic chanting, according to her neighbors. Mental disease can be ever so much fun. And although I eventually had to unsubscribe to her mailing list,  I've still got a couple trashbags full of letters like this.

Cement Blocks

Cement blocks played a lesser role in my upbringing than used bricks, tires, lumber or railroad ties. But they were still there. And they are here. You're welcome.

Finasteride!

This blog may cause decreased sex drive and immense body hair. But your prostate has never looked better. For a couple of years I paid 80 something dollars a month for propecia. Then I told my family dermatologist, "I've got an idea, but it's a little unethical..." And he went for it, so my bill was then $20 a month. Then I decided that was too much, and opted for free a month. Several times I've had to call the Kansas City Veterans Hospital and tell them "My dad is out of his life-saving golden tablets." Then I make off with the goods.

Decks of Cards

I collect decks of cards too, apparently. This is a more useful collection than some. And the oversized cards and oversized oversized cards are pretty neat. There's also a set of greek cards with dudes doing stuff to each other that I think are fun for kids. Cool non-cartoon crossover in this blog: the deck of jokers, from April.

Hammers

Cop out! Or mayble not. I mean, when compared to the clothes pins, which were purchased in the same cluster in which they were added to this blog, or the decorative glass blocks, these hammers stand out as top notch bogstuff. As you probably assume, I have an extensive history with each of this hammers. Two of them being the two hammers I was caught beating head to head and got a talking to.

Clothes Pins

Yep. An all-time low. 

Pictures of myself

I am an ambitious collector of all things related to me, and I've never had a problem with the way I look. So collecting pictures of myself is natural. Note pictured here: Any pictures of myself. 

Urine Jugs

Come on. Seriously. Am I really doing this? This is worse than the fingernail clippings. And I don't think I should be bringing up the fingernail clippings, especially in a situation where they don't seem that weird. Well, this isn't my urine. I only photographed it for a friend. Named Rodgey. My brother Josh also used to store his urine in jugs, and filled a small storage trailer with it. For years he used the urine tactically, as a very offensive offense. Disgusting. Interesting to note the different shades of urine though.

Kittens!

At its height this collection boasted 19 cats: 3 full-size milking units and 16 kittens. The feces was impressive.

Decorative Glass Blocks

 

 I feel like a quitter for putting up this post. These glass blocks came from some house Rodgey tore down at some point. Now they sit in the back lot, guarded by overgrown foliage. Unseen for years by the human eye, until now, these blocks offer what I'm calling an integral part of my collection blog. The block blog. 

Railroad Ties

Yes! As kids we would climb the ties, or float on them when impromptu ponds would emerge out back. Railroad ties were for my 6-11 year old self what tires at our farm were for my 0-5 year old self. What a life. One time my brother got his arm pinned beneath a tie, and I helped him get free. But that wasn't life-saving like the way he went after me when I couldn't swim and slipped off the boat drop-off at the lake one time. 

Used Bricks

Rodgey: "Dan, first you clean the brick. Then you stack the brick. Then, you may or may not get paid for any of this."

Brick work dominated my childhood career that existed dispite labor laws. Also there were the low-end jobs at demolition sites, cleaning lumber, cutting thistles and walking fence. What a childhood. I'm glad it's over.

Missouri License Plates

Kudos to this post for not being at all gross. Women of all ages are free to read this one. Not much to say here. I'm a collector, Rodgey's a collector, we don't like to get rid of much of anything. He's got lots of cars; I've got lots of time. There were many many more license plates that I didn't arrange to photograph.

Unopened G.I. Joe Figures

I was never into G.I. Joe. I'm not that into this post. These aren't originals. I can't say enough good stuff about them, or any good stuff at all. I don't know who left them at the big house, but I'm responsible for posting this post. Now you know. And knowing is half the battle. The other half: battling.

DC Figurines

The question I had to ask when I went to photograph this collection was: where's the flash? Go ahead and imagine a musclefied version of Barry Allen in there on the unfinished floor in this pic. I always thought Batman's getup was too much. Dude can't even see.

Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtle Action Figures

Coming soon. And here it is. Credit goes to Jason Monroe for buying and never opening this turtles. Josh and I had 50 of the dolls growing up, but they were given to a younger, less-deserving cousin at some point in our teens. Rodgey: "Turtles can't do any of that! They can barely cross the road without being squashed, which is often the case."

Asbestos

This is a tribute to growing up. Growing up the way we did, handling asbestos. Kinda impresses me that we actually grew up. I'd say we've all got cancer coming. Rodgey has barrels and barrels of asbestos siding somewhere. Maybe in a storage shed near you!