Each time your persons, house, papers or effects are subject to an unreasonable search and/or seizure, remind whatever government agency that is searching and/or seizing your persons, house, papers, or effects, that (in the seminal words of Twisted Sister) you’re not gonna take it.  By making use of this handy dandy packaging tape emblazoned with the Fourth Amendment.

That was the hugest run-on followed directly by a retarded sentence fragment. Oh, well. Worse things have happened. I hope everyone is winning the day.

love, mel

You should see the ‘zines Mara used to make. Fan-tas-tic, those. I should scan them all and post them here–that is, with her permission.

In place, a couple of half-hearted attempts at one-page ‘zine fun in high schoool. “Com-pu-ters” were new to us then, so simple word processing was a joy (as was listening to Simon and Garfunkel and poking fun at Rush Limbaugh).

I think my writing is about at the same level now.

This scanner purchase has prompted me to go through my old box of memories, which contains artifacts dating back to when I was a wee lad. Much of the stuff is from high school; I guess I was a bit of a pack rat then, keeping everything, important or not. I have receipts that are without context, locks of people’s hair (ewwww!), and photos of people whose names I can’t remember. I’ve found some GREAT letters — even one where a one-month girlfriend explicates the reasons her Christian family does not approve of our relationship because of my Mormon roots. If only she could see me now . . .One thing I’ve realized in looking through these letters is that I was pretty much clueless when it came to girls. I have dozens of letters where girls wrote things that I can only now construe to mean that they wanted to go park up at make-out point with me. Of course, at the time all I could think was “Nice letter. Hey! Free food! I like Skittles! Michael Jordan is good!”

My almost-favorite is a full-page poem one girl wrote about me and gave to me. Creepy. But kind of cool. The letter from my four-day girlfriend is pretty classic, too.

But, however, forthwith and henceforth, below you will find my absolute all-time favorite high school love letters. Maybe they’re my favorites because they required no action on my 17-and-scared-as-shit-of-girls ass. But mostly they’re cool because of the lipstick. Check it:

Now, what did I do to as a result of these? Did I put on my sleuthin’ hat, and go find out who they were, and start up a firey-but-sordid romance? Nope. I did nothing. Totally clueless, I tells ya.

(Actually, I found out later who they were from. There’s a whole side story there that none of you will ever hear. Ok, a few of you know. Keep it to yourselves. I’m the admin, remember.)

Since my scanner arrived on Wednesday, I’ve been going scan crazy. Photos, bills, old postcards, letters, dead flowers, my face — nothing has esecape the scanner’s warm glowing warming glow. A lot of the stuff I’m scanning is simply going to sit on my hard drive, eventually to be backed up via the wi-fi to my server, where it will sit until its backed up to the removable hard drive, where it will wait until I move it to another storage system some years down the line. Then it will sit some more, until one day, when I’m dead, some historian will comb through it all in order to write my biography: “Kables the Story: Quit Staring, Douche.”

Anyhoooo . . . I’m going to start posting some old goodies on here. Check this letter from Mara. She was 15. (Click for the big ‘un.)