Random Photos 313

June 22, 2018

George and Patti actually came to visit the Haight-Ashbury in the fabled Summer of Love of 1967. They were tripping on LSD for the occasion. George had high (no pun intended) expectations for the Haight. He envisioned it as this groovy community of hippie artists and craftsmen working away in their little shops.. So he was shocked to find out it was mostly “spotty kids on drugs.” A drugged out Skid Row. Him and Patti ended up fleeing the Haight. It was a bummer, man. And George swore off LSD after that

And what is the Haight-Ashbury today? They probably have a commemorative plaque to honor all the hippie burn-outs from those glorious days of yore. But none of those hippies could afford to live there today. That’s for sure.

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Fent Rezedic to The Magnificent Beatles Videos and Photos Room

Happy Birthday… The Summer Of Love Turns 50 This Year!

1 year ago

Every now and then someone will make some mocking comment to me about my thinking. They’ll make some disparaging remark about something I’ve written, or something I’ve expressed, to let me know that they have little respect for my level of observation and for my point of view.

So every now and then I can’t resist saying:

“I’ve probably made well over $100,000 bucks over the years from people who wanted to hear what’s on my mind. Has anyone every paid ANYTHING to hear your thoughts?”

That usually shuts them up.

Except for the ones who have made more money than me with their art and writing. They can continue to blast me. Ha ha.

1 year ago

Long-time Berkeley street person Sunshine. And what a little dumpling of love she is.

One of Sunshine’s favorite routines — for years and years! — was to call 911 to call an ambulance. She used to do it 3 or 4 times a week. For YEARS!!

We’d all be hanging out on the street scene. Next thing you know ambulances and fire trucks are rushing towards the scene. Siren blasting and lights flashing.

“What’s going on?”

“Sunshine. Again.”


And the paramedics would all go rushing towards Sunshine, who was on the street corner waiting for them. “What’s the problem?” ” My tummy really really hurts. I feel really really sick.” So they’d strap her to the stretcher. And haul her carcass off to the hospital.

I’m not sure what the psychology of it was with Sunshine. I guess she liked being the center of attention. And having all these people rushing to help her. And sometimes she’d get a warm bed for a night at the hospital. So she’d pull this routine 3 or 4 times a week. For years.

It used to piss me off. Because I heard it cost the city something like $5 thousand bucks every time the ambulance came. So I hated the waste of it. But I guess the ambulance people didn’t care. They were getting paid

So anyways, one night I’m at my 25 cent book street vending stand. It had been a long hard day dealing with one customer after another. But it was 10 o’clock now. And things had finally quieted down. And I could finally start to relax. I poured myself a big cup of Olde English. And took a big hit off my joint. And just as I was kicking back and making myself comfortable, and turning my radio on to a nice relaxing radio station. I noticed good old Sunshine headed for the payphone right behind me.

“Oh no. She better not be. . . ”

Of course she was. Next thing I know my peace and quiet is shattered by sirens blaring. And lights flashing. And paramedics and cops rushing towards me. And Sunshine saying “My tummy really really hurts.”

And the whole mad scene went on for at least an hour (seemingly) before they finally hauled Sunshine’s carcass off to the hospital.


And out of respect — or fear — for me, she never did. Sunshine would always use the payphone at the next block.

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Ace Backwords

Long-time Telegraph street person, Sunshine. Spreading waves of joy, allegedly, wherever she goes.

Sunshine just puttered into Hate Camp. Tweaking as usual. Pic

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1 year ago

Of my many character flaws, one of them is that I don’t like to have new experiences. I basically like to do the same thing, day after day. Year after year.

I’m not sure exactly why I have this animus towards new experiences. Part of it is that I’m a nervous person, and a control freak. And I hate being in unfamiliar situations where something unexpected, and potentially unpleasant, might happen.

Also too, I have so much madness and turmoil churning around in my head. My inner world is so unstable. That I at least like to be grounded in a dull and predictable outer world.

One of my least favorite experiences in this life is when I have to knock on somebody’s door, and meet somebody new, and put myself in a new situation. I DREAD that like you wouldn’t believe. I guess I would have made a piss-poor door-to-door salesman.

And whenever I go to a bar or a restaurant, I always want the seat in the back, with my back to the wall. So that nobody can sneak up behind me.

People often say to me: “Ace, what’s happening?” And I’ll say: “Nothing. And that’s a good thing.” Because when something is happening, it’s usually bad. Ha ha. (“No news is good news!”)

I often think to myself: “It’s a fine line between a rut and a groove.” And my life usually feels like both at the same time.

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Ace Backwords

Still Sproul Plaza after all these years.

1 year ago

People often come on my Facebook page to tell me I’m wrong in my thinking. And that’s fine. And sometimes they do this in a harsh or insulting manner. And that’s fine too. I’m a big boy. I can take it. And I can dish it out, too.

1 year ago

One of the many weird things about me:

I don’t CARE if people like me. Or if people dislike me. I don’t CARE if I’m popular. Or if I’m unpopular.

I’m gonna say what I feel like saying. Irregardless.

(and yes I know that “irregardless” isn’t a proper term and “regardless” is the proper term)

1 year ago

Probably the thing that gets me in trouble more than anything else. And I can be as demented in my thinking as anybody else. But the thing that REALLY gets me in trouble. Is when (every now and then) I lay out a coherent series of thoughts.

2 years ago

I’m still hoping I can come up with a half-way decent song on my cell phone videos. This one is about falling in love. But it sucks too.

Maybe next time I’ll nail it. Ha ha.

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2 years ago

OK. Its 11:36 PM. (24 minutes until midnight for those of you keeping score at home).

And I feel all my Facebook posts up to this point were fairly reasonable. They mostly made sense. And there was a minimum of screeching and dischordant concepts and curse words and random insults.

But everything I post after this point is probably just bullshit. Ha ha.

PS. Ha.

2 years ago

My FB friend Larry Oberc posted the question:

“What’s the craziest thing your pet ever did?”

Do you have any pet stories?

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Random Photos 312

June 21, 2018

You might have heard that Michael Brown’s family has dropped their civil suit and accepted an out-of-court settlement.

That’s a damn shame. Because I was really looking forward to hearing Michael Brown’s pal Dorian Johnson — the compulsive liar who came up with the “hands up surrendering” lie in the first place — on the stand, under oath, trying to explain away his countless lies under cross-examination.

The city of Furgeson obviously felt it was cheaper in the long run, to just settle this now. Rather then run up another year of legal fees, and the millions of dollars that would cost them.

But it’s a damn shame. That we never got to see this Dorian Johnson guy on the stand. Though you could read about his testimony in the two previous investigations that concluded he was completely full of shit. Or, in the more legalize terminology, as an eyewitness he completely lacked “credibility.”

But I guess the only silver lining to this whole Michael Brown debacle is at least it is finally over.


1 year ago

Damn!! I just accidentally deleted the Facebook App from my cellphone. And I have so little storage space left on my cellphone that I can’t post the App back on my cellphone. So now I can’t post any more of my cellphone photos on my Facebook page!

Oh well. All the people who are stuck of looking at photos of my goddam feral cats are probably relieved.

1 year ago

It looks like the Fatty vs. Mini Scaredy feud may be finally beginning to thaw. Fatty dared to show up at the food dish this morning when Mini Scaredy was also there for the first time in a long. They hissed at each other for a bit. But then ate in peace.

Though it could have simply been that Mini Scaredy had already stuffed her guts with food. She ate the lion’s share of the leftover shrimp pasta that I brought up — with this rich, gooey cheese sauce and big chunks of shrimp (I think my feral cats got a little Italian in them. They love them greasy Italian dinners I bring them. They lick up every last bit of the cheese sauce). So she was in no mood for claw-to-claw combat. She could barely move. Ha ha.

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1 year ago

People seem to be flipping out more and more these days.

So I’m sitting there at a cubicle in the library, at a computer, screwing around on my Facebook page, and minding my own business (what could possibly go wrong?). The person sitting at the cubicle next to me is this little chick with a shaved head. She looks like she’s about 17 or 18. And she’s got all of her stuff in one of those luggage-on-wheels things. So I got her pegged as a homeless teenage runaway type. But who knows.

So anyways, when her session at the computer ends, she suddenly bolts up from her chair, knocking her chair over, and then she slams her luggage thing to the floor, which makes this loud WHACKING!! sound. That gets everyone’s attention.

Then she takes her cellphone and some other stuff on her table and throws it against the wall. She’s got tears in her eyes, she’s crying, she’s obviously upset about something. Did she recently suffer a traumatic experience? Or is she just nuts? Who knows. All I know is that she’s nutting up right next to me.

She starts to leave, slamming her luggage thing on the floor with every step. But then she comes running back to her cubicle (and at me). Takes some more stuff from her table and smashes that against the wall. She repeats this process 2 or 3 more times where she starts to leave and then comes rushing back to smash up more stuff.

I’m giving her a sympathetic look. I feel bad for her, and wish there was something I could say or do that would make her feel better. But I’m also looking to make sure she doesn’t have any sharp objects in her hands.

Then she takes out a big bag of peanuts and starts throwing them at us. This old guy who is sitting across from me — who is taking the brunt of her peanut assault — starts to complain.

“Hey! I’m just sitting here at my computer! I don’t deserve to be pelted with peanuts!”

But that only pisses her off even more. She throws some more peanuts at him, shouting over and over:


“Quit it,” whines the old guy. “Where the heck are the security guards when you really need them?”

She smashes one more item against the wall for good measure. And then FINALLY makes her exit. I hear her going down the steps, loudly whacking her luggage thing on every step.

And I went back to screwing around on my Facebook page.

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1 year ago

Right now it’s around 1 AM. And all I’m thinking is: “I got a bunch of good food for my feral cats.”

I got this leftover pasta dish I ground-scored from the garbage can of that Italian restaurant on Durant (this gooey cheese and meat dish that my cats will go nuts for).

I also got a bunch of leftover meat and cheese sandwiches that Peats Coffee on Dwight free-boxed at the end of the day

Plus. I got cans of mackeral. And regular dry cat food. Plus other treats.

So I got it covered

I guess I’ve narrowed my life down to a basic level of simplicity. My only responsibility is to feed my cats.

I’m lucky in a weird way.

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2 years ago

Someone posted this on the internet. “Name that game?” From the back cobwebs of my brain I remembered. Playing that game. As a young child. An innocent young child. Its Chinese Checkers.

But then I noticed. Its the Zionist flag. Is this a conspiracy?

And then I remembered this Chinese friend of mine. Named Ed Jew. A good Chinese name.

But I thought. Is this all connected?

But then I realized it was midnight and I’m drunk and babbling and making odd associations. THE END.

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Do You Remember?Like Page

Name this game. 😉


2 years ago


The City Council decided recently not to offer landmark status to The Village, an eclectic collection of shops on Telegraph and Dwight. That opens up the way for a developer to put up a 7-story building on the site.

About this article


Berkeley City Council on Tuesday, June 14 rejected an appeal to landmark The Village, the eccentric collection of restaurants and small businesses at 2556 Telegraph Ave. A seven-story mixed-use project is planned for the site. In January, the Landmarks Preservation Commission had denied landmark


2 years ago

Comment found on Ace Backwords‘ Acid Heroes blog:
“One nation under surveilla[n]ce, with poverty & lamentation for all!’

2 years ago

Only 127 days until the next Golden State Warriors basketball game!!

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Congresswoman Barbara Lee

Thank you Golden State Warriors for such a historic season.


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Random Photos 311

June 20, 2018
1 year ago

Long-time Berkeley street person, Fleagle, hanging out in front of McDonald’s with a golf club. For reasons known only to him.

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1 year ago

The Walrus. With three pairs of pants down by his ankles, as usual. Attempting to do something, only God knows what.

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1 year ago

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Billy Gibbons Playing for a few coins in Helsinki. :v
It’s funny how people go without knowing this legend.



1 year ago

The Lord works in mysterious ways.

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Caídas en procesiones


1 year ago

On Father’s Day my son and I went to an early breakfast then to beat the heat we went to the movies. We got there very early so, we bought our tickets and decided to stroll around the air conditioned mall. Stopping at the Vans store (both of us being lifelong skaters) I was surprised to see this. Peanuts on Vans!

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1 year ago

That’s what he gets for eating all that tuna fish all these years.

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1 year ago

1 year ago

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Random Photos 310

June 19, 2018

The Flash was one of those mediocre secondary superheroes. He had the superpower to run really really fast. Great. We’ll call you when we need you, crime-stopper.

It’s like Aquaman. His super power was the ability to communicate with fish. Great. If there’s ever a crime wave breaking out 7 leagues under the sea, and the guppies are getting out hand, you’ll be the first we call, Aquaman.

1 year ago

We got hit by a heatwave yesterday (it was 97 degrees in Oakland and 88 in San Francisco). So all my feral cats were sluggish as hell. All they wanted to do was drink a lot of water and lie around in the shade. Moo Cat showed up, and the other feral cats didn’t even have the energy to run her off. So we all just laid around in a zombie stupor. It was kind of pleasant actually.

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1 year ago

I always had a little streak of wildness in me.

When I was 16 I spent the summer working as an assistant to the janitors at the local elementary school. Doing stuff like scraping the gum off the bottom of the desks, and mopping the floors, and painting over the graffiti in the restrooms. (That was a real eye-opener the first time I went into the girls restroom. The graffiti in the 8th grade girls restroom was even dirtier and more obscene then the graffiti in the boys restr…

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1 year ago


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The things you come across working nights. Lol
For licensing or usage, contact licensing@viralhog.com

2 years ago

Its the end of the night. I’m drunk out of my mind. The Golden State Warriors lost (bastards!!). So I’m posting a photo of Sally Field.

It all makes perfect sense if you’re drunk

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2 years ago

73-9 don’t mean a thing without that ring!! Warriors! Cavs first team in history to come back from a 3-1 deficit!

2 years ago


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2 years ago


2 years ago

When you’re a 7 foot tall hippie its hard to blend in with the crowd.

Bill also doesn’t want to deal with Coliseum parking lot traffic.

About this article

Any A’s or Warriors fan can tell you that getting out of the Coliseum parking lot after games is a nightmare. And apparently Bill Walton knows that too.


2 years ago

This is the staple of my cat’s diet. Once a week I’ll go to Safeway and get five 22 ounce cans of wet cat food, and a big bag of dry cat food. 11 bucks out the door (such a deal).

I supplement their diet with lots of ground-scored restaurant leftovers (steak burritos, fried chicken, pepperoni pizza, etc). And I’ll buy 8 hot dogs for a buck at the Dollar Store (which is cheaper than cat food, so you wonder what’s in those things). And cans of tuna, chunks of cheese and occasionally milk.

So far, no complaints about the menu from the cats.

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2 years ago


2 years ago

  • Watch Again
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    DavidSelect a friend

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    EdSelect a friend




2 years ago

Keith doesn’t miss a beat while giving a fan a beat-down.

3 years ago

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Peter Labriola

I don’t know if you guys go through this. But I feel like I’ve lived out thousands of movies. And sometimes I’ll be walking down the street and it seems like o

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3 years ago

Let the jokes begin!!

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Brian RayLike Page

#Repost @lexiegalante with @repostapp.
Trump it #donaldtrump #trump #comb #hairstyle #stylin #murica #america


3 years ago

4 years ago

Worst comment: “You just can’t beat Archie’s meat.”

4 years ago

You can”t beat the chicks of 1974

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Joseph Deutsch

Bonnie Raitt, Maria Muldaur, and Linda Ronstadt – 1974.

4 years ago

BTW, thank you for accepting my friend request, Ace😀 🙂 I’ve always been a big fan of “Twisted Image” since reading it in Loompanics books and catalogs, and also good to see you’re doing OK.

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Random PHotos 309

June 18, 2018

Of course Moo Cat is my favorite feral cat. You can see it all in her facial expression.

“This life ain’t no bed of roses ”

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1 year ago

The last time I saw my Father in the flesh was 1999. He flew out to Berkeley to visit with me for a week. It wasn’t a particular pleasant visit. The more I saw of him the more I disliked him. It brought back all the unpleasant memories of my childhood.

But who’s to say who was right or wrong. Him or me? In our failed relationship. It’s not like there’s a Commissioner of Father-Son relationships where you decide in arbitration who was right or wrong.

But one thing I remember from that visit from my Dad in 1999. He’s hanging out at my vending table in front of Cody’s Books with me and Duncan. And good old Hate Man shows up. And my Dad starts talking to him. But Hate Man pulls his classic trip:

“Say you hate me first if you want to talk to me.”

My Dad — who was this goody-goody “nice guy” type — refused to say “I hate you.” My Dad was one of those “positive” types who “wouldn’t say shit if they had a mouthful of it.”

So Hate Man said to my Dad:


And so they pushed shoulders for awhile. Hate Man and my Dad. In 1999. In front of Cody’s Books. Duncan took a bunch of photos to commemorate the occasion (I still have the photos, naturally).

But even after pushing shoulders for 10 minutes, my Father still refused to tell Hate Man that he hated his fucking guts. So Hate Man finally gave up. And that was the end of that

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1 year ago

Like a lot of people, I have complicated feelings about my Father. And when I try to describe those feelings, it’s like a FLOOD of feelings. An over-load of emotion. Like a radio that’s picking up 10 stations at the same time. And all you can hear is static.

My Father’s parents were Italian peasants from Sicily who immigrated to America in the 1920s. Barely spoke English. Owned a little home in Passaic, New Jersey. Every now and then when I was a child we would visit them. My Grandparents. They always seemed like they were sluggish or in a stupor. I don’t remember them ever saying a word to me. And everything in their house seemed old and covered with dust.

Both of my Dad’s two brothers (older than him) saw some of the worst fighting in World War II. I was always struck by the irony of that. My family coming to America for a better life. Only to be shipped back to Europe to be ruined. They spent most of their lives in mental institutions. And my father would always watch over them through all the years, acting as their caretaker, to make sure they were doing all right

My Father was probably the first person in my family to graduate from college. Went to New York City to be a commercial artist. Worked in advertising for awhile. Realized it was a soul-less occupation. Took a stab at developing a comic strip. Finally opted for a career as a Methodist minister. Had his own churches where he preached every Sunday for 30 years until he finally got kicked out of the church for various scandals.

I was enormously critical of him for many years for his various human foibles. He was a very nice guy, always meant well, deeply cared about people in his own way. He was a “hail fellow well met” type (think Ed McMahon). Always happy to meet you and greet you. But he was a bullshitter on another level. And wreaked all sorts of havoc on his family

But I respect that he came from nowhere — this sort of Italian peasant stock with a strong strain of mental insanity to it that was our family tree. And pulled himself up. And developed elevated interests in art and literature and religion and etc. And made a life for himself.

Plus. He created me. So I suppose I should be grateful to him. The bastard.

He’s around 85 now and still hanging in there.

Happy Father’s Day everybody!!

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1 year ago

A Father’s Day message from the leader of the free world.

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1 year ago

Since this is starting to get under my skin a little, I thought I’d address this issue directly.

Needless to say, I post a lot of photos of the feral cats at my campsite on my Facebook page. Not surprisingly, my Facebook friends often say to me: “Ace, you really should get your cats fixed.”

And while I certainly appreciate this well-meaning — and endlessly repeated — bit of advice. There are a few things the average person might not be aware of:

1.) It can be extremely difficult to catch and fix feral cats. And it can be especially difficult when you’re homeless, and accomplishing the simplest of tasks can be extremely difficult. And it’s particular difficult at my campsite in the Berkeley hills, where the terrain can be difficult to traverse in the best of times, let alone hauling a 30 pound cage up and down the hill and a quarter mile to the nearest civilization. And it was virtually IMPOSSIBLE to do during the recent 7-month Rainy Season.

2.) For about 5 years I actually had all the cats at my campsite fixed. And then Owl and Feral Tammy — who weren’t even part of my crew! — stumbled across my food dish, decided to stick around, and started popping out litters of kittens before I could get a grip on the situation. All the cats at my campsite now are descendants of their lineage. With the exception of Moo Cat who is from a previous lineage.

3.) When I first came to my campsite in 2007, there was already 4 feral cats living there. Ten years later there are now 7. For a net increase of 3 cats in 10 years. . . I do the best I can to keep the situation under control.

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Ace Backwords updated his cover photo.

Proud mamma and her little kitten.

1 year ago

A good shot of me enjoying the camaraderie at a local sports bar!

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Ace Backwords

How the mighty have fallen. This place used to be packed every Sunday for Niners games. Today it is completely empty. Aside from the bartender I’m the only one here.

And wondering why I’M here.

1 year ago

This guy cost me a lot of cat food over the years. Owl, the feral stud on the block. Owl had two litters with Feral Tammy, one litter with Scaredy Cat, and another litter with Mini Scaredy. Owl is quite popular with the ladies. When he shows up, they actually coo with delight — they make this clucking, purring sound. Then they rush over to rub noses with him. The bastard. It’s a shame I can’t bill him for child support.

At any rate: Happy Father’s Day, Owl!!

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Ace Backwords

Owl, the burly alpha tom, licking out the last bit of gravy from the can.

1 year ago

Mini Scaredy brought her litter of kittens out for the first time today. Brought them to within 20 yards of my campsite and nursed them there in the bushes. Then she lay down at the edge of my campsite and called out to her kittens. It was her way of saying: “Hey, kids! If you want any more food, this is the place to be!”

She’s gradually acclimating them to me and my campsite. Getting them used to this weird-looking, giant, 200-pound animal (me).

Tomorrow she’ll probably bring them in a little more closer.

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1 year ago

I never wanted to be a Father. Which must say something abnormal about me. Because it’s such a biological imperative to want to perpetuate the species and spew our precious DNA out there for future generations to enjoy.

So I’m odd. Never wanted to be a Father. The closest I ever wanted to that was to have a little feral cat sitting on my chest and me saying: “How you doin’ there, you little baby.”


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Random Photos 308

June 17, 2018

Ha ha. This photo is so great

This is my feral cats waiting for me and the cat food at the foot of the trail leading to my campsite.

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Ross Freedman

Lost in History: Cats waiting for the fishermen to return.

1 year ago

This is the guy who was the second-in-command at the Ghost Ship wharehouse in Oakland. He’s the guy who put on the Rave that ended up with all those people dying in the fire. He was arrested last week and charged with 36 counts of involuntary manslaughter. So the poor guy’s life is ruined. How do you come back from something like that? From fucking up on such a grand scale?

And the tragedy is. He doesn’t seem like he’s a BAD guy. His friends described him as “nerdy.” And he’s obviously a classic hipster wannabe with his self-styled image. One of those guys that wants to let the world know that he is an “artiste” and a “bohemian.”

And he’s only in his 20s. Who really knew what they were doing in their 20s? I was just winging it myself. I barely had a clue. It was only dumb luck that I didn’t fuck up on a grand scale too.

He’s only 27 years old. Now he’s sitting in a little prison cell in Santa Rita. Where many of my friends have also sat. And he’ll probably be sitting there for a long time to come.

Strange are the ways of karma.

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1 year ago

In honor of Father’s Day, a question:

How come “fatherfucker” is never considered a good insult, too?

Just wondering.

1 year ago

You fucked up. You trusted me.

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Jaime Crespo

Flounder has passed on! RIP Stephen Furst.

1 year ago

The feral cat population at my campsite has been dwindling lately. It’s basically 3 cats now; Scared Cat, and her two kittens Mini Scaredy & Mini Owl.

Owl and Feral Tammy have been missing for several weeks, and may be gone for good.

And Fatty an Moo Cat are hanging by a thread, living on the fringe of my campsite, only daring to show up when Mini Scaredy isn’t around to run them off.

Here’s a shot of Mini Scaredy, the new alpha female of the tribe, sitting on her throne at the epicenter of my campsite.

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1 year ago

It’s been two months since Scaredy Cat went from pregnant, to not-pregnant. Still no sight of the kittens. But that’s usually how long it takes before they’re weaned from Mom. So I’m expecting they’ll be showing up soon.

Mini Scaredy — who also popped a litter shortly after Scaredy — is probably getting ready to wean her litter, too. This morning she carried a big chunk of chicken bologna in her teeth back to her campsite. So they’re probably ready for solid food, too.

We’ll just have to see how it plays out.

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Ace Backwords

Scaredy Cat didn’t show up for breakfast until late in the morning. She ate in a hurry and split shortly after. And she looked noticeably thinner.

Not good.

2 years ago

When I was younger I was constantly “falling in love.” I put it in quotes. Because I’m not sure if it was really love. It was more a longing to BE loved. This “unrequited love” thing. As Swami Muktananda once put it: “What many people think of as human love is often just histrionics.” It was mostly like that.

I was constantly “falling in love” with these beautiful young women. Sometimes, with some women, the feeling could last for a decade. Other times it lasted for 6 months. Sometimes it just lasted for an afternoon. I’d meet some beautiful stranger, and all the promise she seemed to hold. And I’d think: “Is she the ONE??” But by the end of the afternoon I’d realize: “Nope.”

Like I lot of people, I was looking for a Soul Mate. That one person I was meant to be with. Who would complete me. The prize we were all chasing after was “unconditional love.” Someone who would just love us for who we were. Of course the ones I sought out always had the condition of being young and beautiful. So my thinking was obviously bogus.

Forty years later when I surveyed the wreckage of my relationships with women I realized. My attitude about women had basically been formed by two things: Pornography. And romantic pop songs on the radio. So I was fucked.

Eventually I realized. My basic personality was that of a loner. So its no surprise that I ended up alone.

Nowadays I just hang out with a bunch of cats. The End.

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3 years ago

3 years ago

Image may contain: one or more people, cat and indoor
Peter Labriola

This is one of my favorite feral cats. Keef the feral cat. Of the Mick and Keef twins. From Blondie the feral cat’s second litter…Keef had the sweetest disp

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3 years ago

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Peter Labriola

I don’t think I’ve ever sent my father a Father’s Day card. I hated his guts for half of my life. But hell, he’s 87 years old now. So I mailed out this card t

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