I remember the temptation of drawing on a new pair of Chuck Taylor’s, the white canvas crying out for something more. These pink bad boys from Houston, TX, are pretty sweet! Excellent stuff here. I really like the retraced Star, very nice touch, blending with the existing art, while enhancing simultaneously. The rubber soles perimeter was always a favorite section to draw on, as the ink gets soaked up nicely and welcomely. Doddle your shoes and enjoy. Kids can’t have all the fun; besides, what else are you going to do in that 1930s-era soup queue?

I really have nothing but questions about these strange doodles that appear on the web. Who are these people doodling with letters and why do they do this? Drawing with letters is kinda ugly but tricky I guess. Are you a letter doodler? Please tell me what is the skinny with this habit, and why do these drawing always appear in the comments sections where they somehow avoid the delete key? Drawing with letters, should I write with pictures like an ancient cave-dweller, or should I use a fork instead of a spoon? Paint by numbers meet Draw with letters!

The year is 2018 and all service stations are pretty much moth-balled. The air is fit to breathe again and everyone zips around at the speed of electricity. Plugging into big box retail three prongs for some extra juice, while the huge propellers labor and spin. The sun kicks down some extra power for the lights and we are living large in the age of space.

Remember when you could get a clean windshield and oil check free of charge. I’m sure there is a perfectly good reason why we need to tip the homeless for a service we should be getting free of charge. I guess the 9/10ths of a penny surcharge per gallon also makes perfect sense. If I buy half a gallon will you round down the amount and let me keep my shiny penny or will you pocket that bad boy? Nevermind nickels and dimes Pegasus wants my pennies.

Do you recognized all of these monsters? What terrible events lead them to be such ruthless dictators and cold-blooded killers. Could a mild course nudge here or there on their life’s path have spared humanity the cruelty of their vile leadership. Were they nothing more than dressed up street thugs parading as men of courage. Will we ever be able to graduate from these monsters grabbing power while hoodwinking the people so effortlessly with the same old routine; thump the nationalist  drums of war, blame the economy on the most vulnerable elements of society, and amplify the propoganda to a stifling roar.

Can you think of anyone whom you would like to see added to this collection of petty fools, or are you happier with your head in the sand?

My brother Michael died 22 years ago on this day in his prime at the tender age of 24 years old like James Dean. One always wonders how things could have been different without this senseless loss but there has to be positives that spring from a painful loss. I like to think my brother learned his worldly lessons sooner than the rest of us and shuffled off this mortal coil on his merry way to his next plane of higher evolution. I miss his chipped toothed grin and devilish ways and sometimes swear I feel his guiding presence looking out for his brother from that higher plane. Now go call your brother and have some fun just hanging out.

Michael Friesen 1962—1986

Have you ever noticed these ghost bikes around town where you live? They are tributes to people who where killed in cycling accidents. The bikes are painted white and chained to the locations where the accidents occurred. Sometimes there are flowers and memorial shrine type items around, or they are emblazoned with black sharpie messages with dates and names and other personal messages. Pedal safe. RIP