So I went to Willows for Thanksgiving with my Lomo fisheye planning on taking all sorts of badass, artsy photos, but instead I just got drunk the whole time. So instead you’ll have to settle for some bullshit I took with my iPhone camera which is sort of like a polaroid only not as cool.

And as proof of my profound inebriation, not that you need any, I present my feeble attempt to document the uniquely bucolic and whimsical magic that is the Long Way Home Saloon:

Guess you’ll have to go there to see what’s cracking. Just don’t try to drive home. The police in Willows are increasingly fascist and unforgiving. But I guess it’s just because they’re probably bored out of their damn minds. Anyways, I’ll try to do better next time or whatever, but film processing is getting expensive and I’m not made out of money, which is obvious by the fact that I’m spending my vacations in Willows as opposed to the more balmy climes enjoyed by my colleagues, but hey! If there’s one good thing about writing, its definitely not that it pays well! Or that it’s rewarding in really any other way, other than being the job that takes probably the most minimal amount of effort this side of being the Maytag guy. But at least that guy is Union and probably gets vision, and retirement. Only retirement I got is the baseball cards in my closet, but those ain’t worth shit anymore. So I guess I’ll have to live now and figure the rest out later, which is easy because later doesn’t come until after now. And even when it does, there’s always another later after that. Until there’s not. Then you’re fucked.

This is a sad, sad day:

Mother’s Cookies, an Oakland institution for 92 years, has been shuttered, its owner seeking bankruptcy protection for the company.

The ending was abrupt: Workers for the company, which shifted its baking and distribution operations to plants in Ohio and Canada in 2006, told workers Friday that operations would cease and cookies would no longer be made as of Monday.

The company cited rising prices for raw materials and fuel, and on Monday filed for Chapter 11 bankruptcy in U.S. Bankruptcy Court for the District of Delaware.

I don’t know what’s up everywhere else, but in Northern California Mother’s Cookies was the real shit, not just for badass cookies like Circus Animals, but for baseball cards. A sign of the times, man! Who says the financial crisis isn’t affecting the common man? How am I supposed to get my daily RDI of Partially Hydrogenated Oils now!?? RIP Mother’s mayne!

I used to collect baseball cards when I was a kid because, well, every dude does at some point. I am a HUGE baseball fan and some of my fondest memories were opening up a pack of 89′ Donruss and seeing a cool new Rated Rookie, and a Will Clark or Mark McGuire. I studied the stats like a nerd, and compared collections with my friends. I started keeping track of a lot of player’s careers, and learned a ton about the game.

I stopped collecting over time because I grew pubes and started being more interested in trying to get girls to let me touch their boobs and actually playing baseball then looking at a bunch of pictures of adult males on cards. But today I was in a candy store and saw a pack of Topps, and decided I was going to re-live a bit of my youth, so I bought it.

First of all it was 2 fucking dollars! Bull shit! I don’t want to sound old or anything (but I’m old as fuck) but when I bought cards they were 75 cents. But whatever, it’s been a while. But then I opened up the pack and there was a grand total of SEVEN cards inside. SEVEN! RIP OFF!!!

So I paid about 28 cents per card and got a couple of mildly decent ones, but in general I feel ripped off. When I have a kid I ain’t shelling out 2 bucks a pack for that shit. I’m telling his ass to get on the tube and watch Baseball Tonight on ESPN and learn from Peter Gammons’ old ass.

I did get a piece of bubble gum that was surprisingly fresh though, which I’m chewing now, so it wasn’t a total loss I guess.