Alone And Unsupervised On A Saturday Night...

...with ready access to caffeine, the Intarwebs, and paint.net. Bad combination. In this case, several lines of thought intersected, all of them, sadly, involving poor, long-suffering acquaintance, Wayne, writer, poet, video memoirist, dedicated fan of Bobby the Mitch and Abe Vigoda, one of two men with whom I share a sense of humor.

The results:

In an alternate universe this would be my first collection of short stories. Inside joke for those not in the know: Nightmare Alley is a dark, dark piece of fiction by William Lindsay Gresham. The first time I saw this photo of Wayne I thought, "Gee, he looks like the perverted ride operator at some sleazy-ass traveling carnival," and made the obvious (to me) connection.

Then, while looking for prime examples of Nazi bondage and torture art in vintage men's adventure magazines (aka "Sweats")--please don't ask why--I stumbled across a couple of images that seemed oh-so-appropriate and turned them into imaginary book covers. Again, for those not in on the joke, Brother Wayne makes frequent reference to Bubbly Creek in his blog, FRANKENSTEIN1959.



And, yes, I realize friends don't let friends use Comic Sans, but, for me, it just seems to work.

Take-home message? I'm not to be trusted with a computer.