American Graffiti

Martin "Van" Buren is now covered in signatures. It's not far from the time when people will have to start signing on the roof for lack of space, causing some kid to fall off of the roof, breaking his arm and causing him to sue me for all of my earthly possessions, which is, ironically, pretty much just the van.

In honor of my van continuing to resemble the cast on a third grader's broken arm, I'm bringing you another installment of "Sharpie Wisdom."


My cousin Jeff in Seattle wrote this as an inside joke to my cousin Nelma in Helena. Jeff is about 6'3," and incidentally was the first person to sign on the roof. Despite the inside joke, Jeff's pearl of wisdom remains the all-time leader in "phrase people randomly say out loud when reading the van." Apparently, a lot of people have garlic toast related horror stories.


A close second on that list is Michelle, Calgary's favorite homo. One girl named Michelle was signing the van in Phoenix, Arizona and her friend looked for her signature but saw this one first.

"When did you become Calgary's favorite homo?" she asked.






This is my van's first effort to become a collector's item. I've gotten a lot of artwork drawn on the van, but this is the first by a real artist.

Ironically, the guy who drew it would find that sentence to be completely untrue, citing that we are all artists in our own way.

Remember Eido, the dedicated artist who lives in his van in Everett with his cat Zen-Bhu? If not, you can read about him here:

http://projectmeaning.blogspot.com/2008/10/eido.html


This is actually a quote from motivational speaker Wayne Dyer. Replace "happiness" with "peace" and you have Ghandi's quote.

Notable Peppermint Patty quotes include:

+ You're holding my hand, Chuck! You sly dog!

+ Ma'am? I don't understand this first question... which ocean are we studying? Could you be more Pacific?

And, of course,

+ Stop calling me sir!

Finally, I bring you an original poem from Gary in Great Falls, Montana. Gary bared a strong resemblance to David Hasselhoff, right down to the tan leather jacket I imagine the Hoff would wear if he ever found himself in Big Sky Country.
This poem, however, might be slightly less advanced than Hasselhoff's poetry. "A wink from the morphined eye" is catchy, but it lacks the depth of some of the Hoff's greatest work, for example:

"Ooh, jump in my car, I wanna ta-ake you home
jump in my car, it's too far to walk on your ow-own."

Now that's poetry.

As always,