Music

I added a juke box, so if you want to hear some Clutch, or just get an idea of what I listen to, scroll down to the bottom of the page to play.
Hope you enjoy my bizarre mixture of punk/metal/industrial/bluegrass/60's hippie folk! Hey, there's something for everyone!
I have to admit, the song choices may be a little 'doomer' oriented.
Have fun!

Politics test

This is an interesting link. I fully expected to be labeled an anarchist, but apparently I'm a socialist (not an extreme one though)
http://www.okcupid.com/politics
Check it out.

New Floor

I got my new floor cut out and "dry fitted" in the van. I wanted it to be a pretty tight fit because I don't want to bolt it down and make more holes in the van.
It was tricky to get it just right, because there are weird shaped fuel fills and wheel wells to cut around. So I made a pattern for each side out of newspaper and traced it onto the plywood. It turned out pretty good.
Now I will apply "Great Stuff" expanding foam to the grooves in the floor of the van and hold the plywood down with my deep cycle batteries as the foam sets. (they weigh about 80lbs apiece)
The foam adheres to things pretty well, so between it and the tight fit I shouldn't need to bolt it down. Yay! I get to cut wood!

A couple interesting things happened the last few days. I was in the Qwik-e-mart buying my cancer sticks and the customer ahead of me was talking to the cashier about being overtaxed and finding a safe place for their money. The cashier mentioned an account in the carribean. I chimed in with "I'm just investing in food and ammo." They both looked at me, but not like I was crazy. More like they were considering it.

Then our 'crazy neighbor' came over wanting to know how many of the 4000 rounds of AK ammo he ordered the Ex wanted. Gun conversations went on for a while, then the neighbor told a story about how he met these guys in a diner who were talking about ammo. The guys were initially suspicious and asked if he was a cop, but it was readily apparent that he was one of the good ole' boys. So they invited him to the range. They have some kind of 'gun club' and a 'facility' in Mississippi. I wonder if it's anybody I know online?....
It was some consolation that if/when TSHTF, the Ex will team up with CN (crazy neighbor) and maybe be able to bug out to MS with da' boys. Ex and CN are going to the range tomorrow. Awwww.... I've given up him, but I still care if he lives or dies. It's encouraging to see him making helpful connections at least.

What's Our Excuse?

Thanks to Mayberry over at Keep It Simple Survival, I finally figured out how to make a youtube player appear in my blog. I thought this was a really sweet video;


So what's our excuse? We have a government that willfully tries to divide us. And we are dumb enough to listen to their BS.

Sick

Being sick sucks. I forgot how much it sucks, because I very rarely get sick. I'm blaming this on my friend that had strep last week. It started on Tuesday with a sore throat and sinus pressure. I got the plywood cut for my floor in the morning, and felt crappy after that. But it was Fat Tuesday! Mardi Gras! And as this city likely won't be here for much longer (neither will I) why not enjoy it now?
So I took a 12 hr sudafed (better than crack!) and headed for the French Quarter. Beer made my throat feel better anyway.
The sheer madness of Mardi Gras is something everyone should experience at least once. I prefer to stay away from the touristy, frat boy riddled area of Bourbon St., but that is where most of the titties are, if you're into that sort of thing. The Frenchman street area is where most of the locals hang out, and the place to go to see well thought-out costumes. My favorite was a couple wearing sandwich board signs with a 'menu' for the "Freddie Mac and Cheese Grill" with humorous menu items relating to our current state of affairs. I wish I'd brought the camera, because I was too many beers into the process to memorize any of the items. Maybe they'll come to me later.
It was still an early night as far as most Fat Tuesdays. I was in bed by 11pm. And SOOOOO CCCCCCcOLD..... Fever sucks. I hate feeling that way. You do get some pretty interesting dreams though.
I worked the next day, even though I felt like total crap. What boss is going to believe you are actually SICK the day after Fat Tuesday? But I managed to blunder through it, and passed out at 7:00 pm. After sleeping 12+ hours the fever seems to have broken and it no longer feels like my head will explode when I cough. So I'm taking it easy today. I'd rather lose one day of working on the van to get better than a bunch of days getting sicker if I don't give myself time to heal. I can still work on planning the interior. I've drawn the 'footprint' of the van interior to scale. The fun part is drawing my major components (bed, stove, potty, battery box) to scale, cutting them out and moving them around on paper to see what works best. Kind of like a paper doll, but for a van.... anybody remember paper dolls?
I bet they were made in America......
I'll post picks of the floor in a later article. I want to talk about the process, and that is too much to go into here.
In case anyone is wondering, the photo is from 'Hidden Messages in Water' by Dr. Emoto. They talk to water, then photograph the results when it is frozen. They said "you make me sick" to this water. A fabulous book, with the potential to change your view of reality. Highly recommended.

Seeds of Change

The voices in my head have been telling me that seeds will soon become very valuable. Fortunately my job allows me the opportunity to acquire heirloom seeds at a reasonable cost.

So I got to thinking. What plants would I want to take with me if I could only pick about 20?

The cultural diets of various areas work together to provide complete nutrition. We wouldn't have survived for tens of thousands of years without certain important plant partners.

The people of the fertile crescent survived happily with wheat, barley, native fruits and the help of animal friends in the form of meat and cheese.

I could eat nice fresh cheese, good whole grain bread and fruit forever. (And maybe some Prosciutto....mmmmmm.)

In the Americas the three sisters were critical; corn, beans and squash. The Anasazi survived for tens of thousands of years with these plants.

Seeds of Change is the heirloom seed company we use at work. The seeds are vacuum packed in resealable plastic packs and have a sell by date of Dec. 2010. I will most likely be either settled or dead by then. I tried to concentrate my purchase to plants that give the most bang(calorically speaking) for the buck. Squashes, root vegetables, grains and beans. When I was ordering the seeds, I tried to get the toughest varieties; the longest keeping squash and carrots, drought and beetle resistant beans, disease resistant tomatos and peppers. I like the weird grains too, because I know they haven't been genetically messed with; Quinoa, amaranth and millet.

I ordered some oil seeds too; safflower and sunflower may both be pressed for cooking/fuel oil.

I didn't buy any greens; they are low in calories and pretty easy to find foraging.

So today I bought seeds. Another prep to cross off the list.

I'd still like herb seeds, but some of my plants (dill, cilantro, parsley, fennel) are getting ready to go to seed so I will probably just collect those and seal them myself.

A few plants I would love to have, but they come in tuber form, not seed form, so don't keep as long. Jerusalem artichoke (aka sunchoke) Yacon, garlic, hops, onions and potatos. Maybe I can barter for them whenever I find my green valley.

A Storm is Coming

Today was an interesting day. I got off work early because of Mardi Gras, and my LA refund check came in the mail. I promply trotted off to the bank to cash it before my state goes bankrupt too. Almost $200.00, and most of it will go to food preps.

To celebrate reclaiming a portion of my my hard earned dollars, I went to the pub. Fox News was on the TV, and they were talking about worst case scenarios, survivalism, and civil unrest.

It was muted, with subtitles, so as not to disturb the doctors and lawers and accountants who also frequent this watering hole. But there it was. On the TeeVee. And we all know that the box speaks the truth.

When I got home, I happened upon the program through an unrelated e-mail link. I watched a portion I'd missed, with my ex sitting right there. He ridiculed it, of course, but it started an interesting discussion.

"The American people won't overthrow the government a la' French revolution. They are too fat and happy. The French were all starving. Americans might march on the White House, but everyone will forget to bring the torches and pitchforks."

"Babe, the people may be fat, but they ain't happy. If Americans overthrow their government it WON'T be with pitchforks....."

We talked about the economy and I mentioned something about ammo being the new dollar. I think I pissed him off. I tried to apologise; "I'm sorry I talk about this. I know it messes with your world view. I won't talk about it anymore if it makes you feel better. At least you have plenty to trade for food. Those defenses will be worth their weight in gold."

I don't think that made him feel better. He quit talking to me and went to bed. I really don't give a shit at this point. Let his world view be messed with. Maybe he will wake up before it's too late. Maybe he'll just think I've gone off the deep end and be glad to be rid of me. Whatever. All things will be as they must.

But I think I can see something coming that he and a whole lot of sheeple don't want to think about. I can try to warn them, but it really doesn't do any good. Mostly it just upsets them, and makes them stay away from me. I guess that's OK. I can really only fit enough preps in the van for me, myself and I anyway. (and maybe a couple of cat friends)

Batten down the hatches, the revolution idea has gone mainstream.

Mainstream thought to manifestation of reality is a small step.

"Say your name/try to speak as clearly as you can you know/nod your head, just in case they're watching with their shiny satellites/ Tune it out/listen to the shit they pump into your head/filling you with apathy/hold your breath/wait until the time is right/hold your breath/ the end is near." -Nine Inch Nails

Prepped and Primed

My floor is all glassed in, prepped, primed and ready for a sub floor. It's been rainy a lot this week, so I lost some days, and fixing the rest of the exterior holes in the Holy Hippie Veggie Van became a priority. What's the sense in putting in a floor if it'll just get messed up when it rains? So today I ground out and de-rusted the rest of the holes where the rain comes in.

And stops my mind from wandering....

This weekend they will get glassed in. It shouldn't take that long, so maybe I'll be able to install the sub floor too.

Prep work is always a pain in the ass. It takes the longest and is the least satisfying. But the final result always depends on laying a solid foundation. Prep work is critical. Just the same, I will be ecstatic when I get to cut wood to build my interior. That should go a lot faster.

My plan is to install a basic framework for the bunk and kitchen areas that is attached to both the frame of the van and the sub floor. After wiring, I can insulate and put up paneling.

Then I can start to think about finishing cabinets/storage/shelves and what type of flooring I want to install. Woo Hoo!

"Engineer the future now, damn tomorrow, future now. Throw the switches, throw the Judge, yesturday's for mice and Gods." -Clutch

Dog Gumbo

No, this isn't a recipe (that might come later) just some thoughts on post collapse city life VS post collapse country life. I consider myself fortunate to have experienced Hurricane Katrina. It allowed me to see firsthand how quickly the thin veneer of civilization can dissolve when people start to get desperate.

I was very fortunate to be in the 'country' a few miles outside of a one-stoplight town on the north shore of Lake Ponchartrain. I was prepared. I evacuated (not far) with marine batteries, 12V fans, food, water, gas, chainsaw, camping gear, xtra fuel, batteries, etc. Driving back to my house there were no street signs. They had all been blown down. I saw no other vehicles on the freeway. It occurred to me then that I was entirely on my own. No phones worked. No power anywhere. No gas stations, no grocery stores, no help. If I was to survive, it was all up to me. It was an interesting feeling. I had to stop several times, fire up the chainsaw, and clear the road to get through. Power lines and debris covered the roads.

I was very lucky. The flood was about a foot shy of getting inside my house. Once I got back to the house, I lived on the screen porch for a month with no power or running water. I would read by candlelight, or listen to the chaos in the city on my battery powered radio. After the first night, I decided I needed a gun (I didn't own one). I painted "Looters will be shot" on my plywood, and carved a big oak branch with a knot on the end. Not much good against a gun, but maybe good against someone who thought they were dealing with a unarmed female, and better than nothing. But it was good to be out in the stix. The people in my neighborhood worked to clear the roads. I brought my neighbor a tarp because a tree went through her roof, and mine was mostly OK. She hugged me and cried. I had never met her before.

A few days later, I ventured out for supplies. I procured 30 gals of gas for $95.00 after waiting in line for four hours. I showered with water left in the pressure tank at the nursery I managed, and stood naked in my store drying myself off. It was surreal.

Hurricane Katrina provided me with an invaluable snapshot of both the worst and the best sides of Humanity. It made me realize how much we take for granted, and how easy it is for all that to fall apart. It fully reinforced my notion that if you wait for help from the government, YOU WILL DIE WAITING. And it convinced a formerly pacifist hippie to arm herself to the teeth.

It really was quite an adventure.

What a Wonderful World

I was e-mailed this video. Everybody needs some cuteness once in a while.
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Rooyt3ptNco
This song reminds me of the night after Katrina. I was sleeping outside on the pool deck at my friend's house because it was cooler, and all the mosquitoes had been blown away. The day before, I nearly died when a large oak tree fell on me. I was stupid for being outside in a hurricane, but I must be here for a reason because the tree fell around me. Three feet in front of me was a crotch where the branches split. About a foot and a half to either side of where I was standing were branches as thick around as my body. I got a knock on the head and a bruise on my leg, but I was almost a grease stain on the driveway.
So there I was, laying on the pool deck, looking at the stars. They were AMAZING. Between the haze and the light pollution, we rarely see the stars here, but the power was out for hundreds of miles around.
I thought about how thankful I was to be alive. I gave thanks for the stars, I gave thanks for my family and loved ones. I gave thanks to that 300 year old live oak for not killing me, even as it died. I realized then what really mattered in life was life itself.
Whenever I hear that song, I think about those brilliant stars that night on the pool deck. And I remember to give thanks for all that I have.

Dreams of Eden

I had many strange dreams last night, but I only remember a couple parts of them.
In the first I was in a city. I went up into a parking garage with lots of other people to watch a fireworks show. I was annoyed that I had to wait in a long line to get up there, and felt a little stifled and panicky like I always do when I am forced to act like a herd animal to slaughter. (MOO). Finally we got to the top and it was still very crowded. I'm short, so I kept trying to squeeze to the front so I could see. Even in front it was disappointing. The fireworks were a long ways off. I think the city was Seattle. My dreamscape cities seem to be defined by the freeways; the routes in and out. This had the layout of Seattle. It is invariably nighttime when I visit cities in dreams.
The second part I remember, we went to a farmers' market or renaissance festival in the country. It was a bright sunny day and there were lots of booths selling neat things. We walked away from the market down a trail. After a while we came to a point where a slightly overgrown trail left the well worn path. I knew that down this path less travelled was the place I had been searching for. My valley, my Eden, was just beyond the next hill. I wanted to go there with all of my being, but for some reason I couldn't. Some commitment or responsibility was holding me back. My heart was breaking. I was so close to my dream I could smell the fertile Earth, the dew on the grass, but it was just out of reach. I threw myself down on the ground sobbing.
I was wearing lots of rings, and in a fit of frustration I started tearing all of them off my hands. I left just one, with a stone of swirly green Malachite. Somehow it represented my connection with that lost Garden. I cried and cried for the loss I felt.

Epoxy Tips

There has been some interest in the fine art of playing with epoxy, so I thought I would add some helpful hints;

Have all of your materials ready before you mix the epoxy. Once mixed, your working time is limited. Depending on temperature, it has a "pot life" of about 15 min. and a "working time" of about 30 min. It cures faster in hot weather, slower in cold. Materials you should have on hand are

-Mixing pots (the plastic ones, like for paint)

-Mixing sticks - I get the ones made for epoxy (black) 'cause you can reuse them a few times.

-Disposable Nitrile gloves (lots) - Harbor Freight has a box of 100 for about $6.00

-Disposable chip brushes - box of 50 (1") at HF for $3.00

-Fiberglass (cut to size before mixing)

-Thickener - I use West Systems 404 or 406 (high density adhesive fillers) for most of my work

-Acetone - Nasty stuff, but crucial for surface preparation.

-Chemical gloves - the nitrile gloves don't hold up to acetone, and it can destroy your liver.

(My liver needs all the breaks it can get)

I start with surface prep. Rust areas are de-rusted, then all areas that will touch epoxy get wiped down with acetone. When my repair area is clean and dry, I mix about 3 pumps of epoxy in a cup and stir thoroughly. To this first batch I add thickener to make the mix 'peanut butter' consistency. This is sloppy enough to still stick to stuff, but firm enough to hold its shape. I use a mixing stick to mash this into any holes/voids/uneven areas to make a semi-smooth surface for the fiberglass.

When I've used all the thickened epoxy, I mix another 3 pumps in the same pot. I use a brush to spread unthickened epoxy on the areas to be fiber glassed. Then I start adding fiberglass (you cut it to size already, right? the clock is ticking now.) Smallest pieces go on first. Apply fiberglass and press gently into the repair area. Use the brush to "wet out" the fiberglass, applying epoxy and smooshing it around until the fiberglass turns from white to clear. Add the next, larger layer of fiberglass, and repeat "wetting out". Add as many layers as you need to fill the hole or bond stuff together. I always finish with woven 'cloth' fiberglass because it gives a smoother finish once it hardens. If you do lots of layers, it's a good idea to get a resin roller and roll over it to mash out air bubbles and extra epoxy. No air bubbles=a much stronger repair.

Clean up spillage with acetone before it hardens, or better yet, protect surrounding surfaces before you get started. Epoxy sticks to ANYTHING and the only way to get it off once it hardens is sanding or grinding. Set the pot and mixing stick aside and let them cure. If you squeeze the pot and bend the stick once the epoxy is hard (the next day) it pops off and you can reuse the pot and stick (see picture, the brush is in a perfect epoxy mold of the pot).

I used about 4 layers of fiberglass to bond the floor to the walls. In the picture above you can see the pre-cut fiberglass layers for a large hole on the floor. Seven was just about right for that.

Once you finish the repair and it hardens, you can sand it and 'fair' it if you care what it looks like. (I'll go into fairing another time, it's a process unto itself) All fiberglass repairs should be painted or protected from sunlight. It is technically a plastic, and will start to break down with exposure to UV in sunlight.

Wearing a bandanna is a good idea if you have hair. I got epoxy in my bangs while working on the boat in Key West. Nothing to do but cut it out. So I had a nice little duck's ass curl in the middle of my forehead, and everybody laughed at me for a while. Fairly warned be ye, says I.

MY floor won't drop out

I've nearly finished prepping the floor of the van. It has been de-rusted and given a coat of primer. I just need to finish sealing all the joints and seams with fiberglass, then one more overall coat of primer. Sealing all the seams may be overkill, but this van is my future house. I'd rather overkill than wish I'd done better, later. Do it right, do it once. The next step is to install a plywood sub floor, which will level out the current uneven state of the floor, and serve as a secure attachment point for my interior structures.
I have also taken painstaking measurements, so I can draw the van to scale and come up with a "floor plan" for the bed/kitchen/cabinets/battery box, etc. I will also determine where I need wiring, so I can install it before I put up the insulation and "walls". I've always liked scale drawing. I've used it in innumerable carpentry projects, and did a stint as a landscape designer for a while. Drawing and writing are great tools in my creative process. They help me generate ideas, see what will work and what won't, and think through the constuction process so I don't leave out critical steps.
Measure twice, cut once.

Tampons and Ammo

We've been hearing that it's somehow OUR fault that the "recession" is continuing. Everybody is starting to wise up and not buy a bunch of worthless crap they don't need, and as buying worthless crap is 2/3 of our GDP, it 'aint looking good.

So I thought I would do my part to stimulate consumer spending. I blew about $200.00 today. Most of that was spent on ammo. The first sprawl mart I went to was nearly out. There were big empty spaces in the ammo case, and several men standing in front of it, talking on cell phones and scratching their heads. It concerned me. I was reassured to see that Sports Academy had added an entire table for ammo, and it was full. They're not stupid. They know what's selling. The second sprawl mart had the big boxes of .22lr I was after. I took half their stock.

I did get this super nifty case from Harbor Freight for $20.

It has a sturdy, bi-fold lid with piano hinges and additional latches, and locks. They are the cheap crappy combo locks, but at least kids can't open it. It even has neat little pockets inside to hold the gun cleaning stuff.

I also spent about $30 on tampons. I like them, and now have about 6 months worth. Turns out you get almost as many weird looks buying bullets and tampons as you do buying condoms and cucumbers.

Eagle Spirit

I saw a bald eagle today. He never flapped his wings once, just circled higher and higher on the currents of the wind.
I know it is not coincidence that this symbol of freedom should appear to me today.
I've seen him closer once before, and it seemed odd that he should be here, in the very heart of the city.
I think he is my soul.
Flying free despite the chaos that surrounds him.

I am so thankful today. The voice of beauty and truth is speaking to me once again.
I am on my path, and the Universe provides.

She's Got her Ticket

I now have a hard date of April 1st to be out of here. I had the Difficult Discussion last night, and it was easier than I thought. We both agreed it was time for me to move on.

So I have 2 months to finish the van and get ret rid of the remaining material crap I have accumulated, while still working part time. That is pushing it. I'd better get my ass in gear.

It is a relief to know that the last attachment holding me here has been dissolved.

I do grieve for that which is passing away, but I am really excited about the road ahead.

Mostly though, I just feel FREE.

Goodbye

It's so difficult for me to see you sitting there looking all dejected. You try to look stoic, and you do, but I can feel the waves of hurt coming off of you. They harmonize with the hurt I already feel and make being in your presence intolerable.

I hate to hurt anyone, especially someone I love.

It has, however, become impossible for me to deny that we are on two very different paths. Due to my experiences with the Dominant Paradigm, and to my free spirited nature, I choose to reject what our society sees as worldly success. By most accounts that makes me certifiably insane. But I believe that life is not measured in the number of breaths we take but by the number of breathtaking moments we experience.

Don't get me wrong, I admire you for being ambitious and working hard. And I can completely understand that you have a plan to make a secure future for yourself.

I also have a plan to make a secure future for myself. But it doesn't involve lots of money and a 401K and Social Security. It involves fertile Earth and a community of like minded people who actually get pleasure from chopping wood and carrying water. It involves a lifestyle of direct connection to the Earth and it's cycles, and of sustainability and respect that I find this culture so sorely lacking.

Yes, I do plan on going off to "grow carrots" (and a whole lot more!) for a living. And if I die in poverty at 45 or 55, at least I will be able to go out into the woods and meet death on my own terms.

I will not be struck dead by heart attack or stroke trying to keep up with the unnatural demands of this system. And I will not die a horrific painful drawn-out death on machines and chemicals as I suffer from some Industrial disease. I will not live a miserable life as a wage slave, and wonder at the end, what I lived for.

I will die happy.

I seek to escape this trap our culture has set for us; make more money to buy more things, be indentured for 30+ years to the 'company store' just to have a roof over my head. Fuck that. You only live once (well, maybe not, but I intend to make the most of it).

As I am certifiably mad, I cannot ask and don't expect that you subsidise my pipe-dream hippie reality with your conventional reality. I completely understand if you want me to leave. But I would like to stay for a couple months while I get my new home ready. I will pay rent of course, and try not to be a burden or disturbance. But if you want me to go I will find a way.

I used to hope you would come with me, but unless the world ends tomorrow I know that is unlikely.

For some reason I feel like I need to make clear my reasons for leaving;

New Orleans is not a logical place to live. Glaciers all over the world are melting at an unprecedented rate, a 25 mile chunk of Antarctica is getting ready to break off, and we are several feet below sea level. I can only see the sea levels rising, and tropical storms intensifying as our poor abused planet tries to blow off heat.

Our food production and distribution systems are fatally flawed. They depend entirely on fossil fuels and are inherently unstable, not to mention unhealthy.

Our economy has for some time been built on pretend money. The depth of its imaginary nature is just beginning to be seen, and I believe the price we will pay in terms of cost in human lives has yet to come due, but is not far off.

We are approaching the nexus of a perfect storm created by our greed and lack of foresight. I don't know what exactly is coming, but I feel in my bones that we are rapidly approaching a time of great change. Our false, unsustainable systems will fall away, and I want to be a part of the sustainable systems that will eventually take their place.

I also want to be with my family, especially my Mom, as things restructure themselves. I owe her a deep debt of gratitude, as throughout the twists and turns of my rather bizarre life she has always been there for me without judgement and without fail.

I love you and I wish you the best. I hope I am wrong about the coming changes. But I will still be happiest growing 'carrots' in a communal setting.

I am truly, deeply sorry for hurting you. I do love you, and I did try to live your life. But I am stifled here. I am a caged bird. I cannot breathe in this city.

And you wouldn't love me anyway if I killed the part of me that is free.

So I cast off the bowlines and take a leap of faith into the unknown.

Bring me that horizon.

Spoiler

I have completed the first layup of my rain catching van "spoiler". I still need a few more layers of fiberglass to get the height and strength that I want, then a good bit of grinding and fairing to make it look halfway decent. But already the van leaks less and rattles less. She grows stronger by the day.

I used a piece of the steel trim that holds up the interior ceiling panels as support for my new gutter. I applied blue tape and spray-on cooking oil to the trim first, to keep it from becoming a permanent part of my fiberglass artwork.

As it begins to cure and solidify I squish air bubbles out of it and encourage it into the shape I desire. When it starts to get fairly stiff I will add another layer to "hot batch" it all together.

If the epoxy is allowed to cure completely, it is necessary to give it a light sanding and wipe it down with acetone to remove the 'amine blush' that will prevent the next layer from making a good bond.

I didn't think it was possible, but my van is even uglier than it used to be. Nothing says classy like uneven patches of gray primer, and strings of fiberglass flying in the wind....

I actually enjoy the fact that it is so ugly as to be offensive to all the sheeple in their Hummers and Escalades. It's sort of fun to watch pedestrians tremble in fear when they consider crossing in front of me. If I didn't anticipate stealth parking I wouldn't even paint it, but anyone who sees it parked on their street now is definitely going to think a serial killer lives in it and call the cops.

Eventually it will get painted 'Desert-ed tan' which is a flat paint the color of dust in the desert. It will still look scary, just not serial killer scary.

I've got to get the interior liveable first though.

"Count down, America, where are you now? Minuteman, please show me how, to wash this blood from my hands, make it go away. The evils of my forefathers pale to those today."

Clutch - 'Arcadia'