First thing you learn is that you gotta make in this world alone. Black coat, white shoes, black hat, cadillac, the boy's a time bomb.

Taste of Bozeman was one sweet street party last night. We went with the Bells'. (I forgot my camera. Doh!) They closed five blocks of Main St., in downtown Bozeman. There were dozens of food and drink vendors lining the streets, and the bars took their business outside. At each intersection there was a different band, with a big stage at the blocked-off end. My personal highlights included a great bowl of gumbo, seeing a stoned-out, bird's-nest-hair, hippie wearing a dress and wandering in circles, and having a flamboyantly gay queen swish by cradling a little Paris Hilton dog under one arm.
--

In other news, here at Dude Headquarters, we have received our first guest blog, from a teenager! She wins the Elvis shades and a Foo Fighters disc. I am in the process of editing it for posting, and it will be up soon.

Antuan Randle El emailed to let me know he took time out of his busy quarterbacking-receiving-kick returning-accounting schedule to prepare a blog entry (with photos!) from his recent trip to the Apostle Islands.

Keep 'em coming people.
--

I needed a haircut. I was desperate. I hadn't gotten one in over two months. I thought about cutting it myself. Instead, I pulled into Cost Cutters. $ 10 and 12 minutes later, I was the proud owner of the worst haircut I have ever gotten. The chick was either bored, retarded or both. I am just going to tell people I cut it myself. With my eyes closed.
--

I have applied for the position of "artist in residence" at Costco. Basically, I hang out by the part of the store where they sell hot dogs and pizza and make stick figure drawings of people buying items in bulk. The "in residence" part comes when I spend the night sleeping on a giant Costco trampoline.

Hey, it's a job. Better than my last job as a highly-paid asshole.

Gotta run, Blade Runner is on...