phlogging at www.georgestranahan.com. Printing all my old negatives and putting them up at www.flyingdogarts.com. Oh, and Flying Dog Beers! Stranahan's Colorado Whiskey? Oh yes!
Music
Folk songs; Pete Seeger, the Weavers, Woody Guthrie, Haydn
Movies
I've moved back to books again
Television
Tennis anyone?
Books
Rumi, anything on Complexity Theory, Feynman's autobiographies as told to Ralph Leighton
Heroes
Edward Weston, Hunter S. Thompson, Benito Juarez, Cesar Chavez. Frederick Douglass, Peanuts, John Dewey, Corky Gonzales
About me: There comes a time, as kids grow up, that they are not accessible to us, they're in their own minds, talking to themselves, figuring shit out
Well, Mister, summer is upon us. Worse than ever east of the Rockies. A regular Swelter Skelter. Nothing left to do today, but beer, bbq and some Howlin Wolf.
sorry about that I must have passed you the wrong one.
That's funny because I tried that one a while ago too, the one I gave you, and it made me all angry because they sucked real bad, and they didn't pay too good either they offered like things and stuff instead of cash.
But anyways, the correct site is
S E C R E T 4 5 . C O M
it's the one I am cashing $750 a week with putting in about 24 hours a week, sometimes up to like 30 hours if I'm bored.
After you get your membership make sure you sign up with with the companies on page one in the members section because they are the ones that pay the most, I got $55 for one that took me 25 minutes today. You'll see what I'm rambling about when you begin.
Anna started taking them too and she's making $750 a week, it's making me so mad because I'm the one that showed her which one to sign up with now she's making more than me.
Alright well me and Jon are getting ready to leave now, just give me a call or I'll catch you on here and let me know if you have any problems with your membership. bye now
Hope everything is good. I have been enjoying the Flying Dog lately here in Minnesota. I love the Snake Dog! Keep up the good brewing and enjoy the Spring season.
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GREETINGS FROM THE BEACH.......I MISS MOWING YOUR YARD AND DRINKING GOOD COLORADO BEER. I HOPE TO GET BACK TO ASPEN SOON. I HOPE YOU AND PATTY ARE WELL ........
I mentioned previously about rolling thru the area around Jan or Feb. The trip is delayed for a bit. Looking more like spring. Ice storms, tornadoes and taxes have been hammering down. Send Whiskey!
It was nice to peel the onion of his life from so many different angles. I'm glad to hear it rang true for someone who knew him personally. The oral biography frame is an excellent way to chronicle someone's life. I especially enjoyed William Kennedy's insights on his writing and Sonny Berger's angry disagreements on how things went down.
Hey George, just had some time to go visit your phlog. It's been a while. Looking good! You've a great eye for photos. I assume you're gearing up for the winter by now... Keep the fire stoked and the PH balanced.
BY FAR the best surprise following my move to Ann Arbor was the fact that most of my canine friends were sitting in the beer cooler of Ye Olde Generic Supermarket Chain. Thanks for easing the transition...
Thanks for taking the time to write me back, George. Life remains strange, but I dig that you can understand that. When I finally blow this Popsicle Stand, BELEIVE I will toast my safe return to MI with a few bottles of that WICKED Porter of yours... Mahalo, my friend
Someone handed me a bottle covered in strange illustrations, so I took a drink to figure out what it was. Beer. And pretty damn good beer at that. Upon closer inspection of the bottle, I remark, "Hey, that looks like the work of Ralph Steadman."
"Who?"
"The guy who illustrated a lot of Hunter S Thompson's books and articles."
"Who?"
"One of the greatest, underappreciated writers of the 20th century. One of the few with balls. Who will probably never get the proper respect due to the 'wildness' of his writing."
"Oh."
"Holy sweatin' Jesus, read a damn book man."
And on that note, the conversation with Old Scratch--the trusty dog-mosquito creature living on the bottle label--ends. His wings whirl with the earth-shattering rumble of a 747 jumbo jet full of inebriated journalists covering the '72 Presidential election (Zoo Bus anyone?). It flies towards me as I try to bat it away with the still half-full bottle, spilling the rest of its contents on myself and the surroundings (makes a great shampoo/cologne by the way). But to no avail, the nightmarish beast grabs ahold of my neck and plunges his giant syringe-like stinger right in the jugular. I howl like a wolf shot in the leg, wimpering away with a hand on the fresh puncture wound. Old Scratch observes his victim with an odd, crooked grin sending shivers from toes to shoulders, everything above that has become uncomfortably numb. Then, he flies away with a look of evil satisfaction and perverse delight, leaving me alone to deal with this ghastly gash. I lift my hand and realize nothing is under it except for the skin of my neck in regular, ungouged condition. "What the hell was that all about?" I think aloud to myself.
Ever since this unexplainable occurence, I've had this irresitable urge to write about life, society and politics in an unconventional manner, filled with strange hallucinations and profoundly wise insight. The spirit of Gonzo lives on...
