I am.
Experienced, that is.
At being inexperienced.
May it ever be thus . . .
I am.
Experienced, that is.
At being inexperienced.
May it ever be thus . . .

Clyde sends fraternal greetings from the "Occupy David's House" movement.
(Clyde has chosen not to ally himself with either the 99% OR the 1% — since he's actually 100% . . . house cat.)
The American Flag in the Recycle bin...and I'm pretty serious about this...should be submitted to Time and nominated for a Pulitzer...
Not sure if the intention was there...but the captured image says enough...

"Hospital Tent"
Is this guy's leg really broke? Or is he fakin' it?
Hm . . . W W D-B-P D?
Let's think about this a minute, shall we? Consider the pros and cons, as it were.
Pros
1) Nurses are hot
2) Broken leg = much sympathy + light work duty
3) Fake cast = hard to detect
4) Cast inspection done by who? (See #1)
Cons
1) ?

DP..
thanks for the photos
well done

You know that saying about the grass being greener on the other side? Well, in the words of Dr. Phil: That's a buncha BS!
As we can clearly see from the photo above, the grass is actually greener on this side.
What I can't understand is why you wouldn't set your tent up on the empty side. I would much rather set up camp where I can get a little leg room without bumping into someone else.
—That's probably by arrangement, Boston. I assume the organizers worked out a deal whereby they would stick to certain areas. Notice, for example, how they left the sidewalk free? In fact, the park as a whole was kept very tidy by the occupiers.
According to some of the occupiers my companion and I talked to, a big issue for the authorities was: OMG! How we gonna mow the grass with all these tents here?
(Only in Olympia, folks. Only in Olympia.)
Occupy Oly is not being hassled nearly as bad as Occupy Seattle. Reason: Heritage Park, where Occupy Oly resides, is managed by the Washington State Patrol, not Olympia city cops. We were told that if it was up to the City, the repression would probably have been intense. But WSP is taking a very hands-off approach, God bless 'em!
(Uh-oh! Did I just compromise my journalistic integrity with that last remark? Why! Why didn't I hold out for a better offer?)
I agree, probably the case. I was more kidding than anything. I lived in Olympia for a few years and know that park well. In fact I can get a view of the water fountain I would take my son to play in during the summer.
Oh clyde. U look lonely. Play date w willow?
—Sorry willow. Clyde's dance card is currently full.
Ahem. Everybody? —There's someone here I'd like you'all to meet.
This is Rochelle . . .

. . . and as of right this second, I'm madly love with her. Although, knowing me, that will change with the weather.
So why am I in love with Rochelle? —Duh! Because as you can see, she's standing in the middle of Occupy Olympia, handing out ***free*** Mary Kay skin care products to the masses.
Q: Does DBP need any more reason than that to be in love?
A: No. He does not.
So it's simple really. See?
Nice Lady + Politics + "Free Mary Kay!" = LOVE
What was Rochelle doing at Occupy Olympia, you ask? –Well, it's a long story, but it has to do with her son needing to find a place for himself and his girlfriend, cuz Rochelle has, like, this old-fashioned house rule about No Overnights w/Opposite Sex.
So because of that rule, Sonny Boy takes his girlfriend and moves right into a tent at Occupy Oly, where the people have more modern ideas and where they UNDERSTAND about LOVE.
Follow me so far?
Anyhoo, Rochelle, being the concerned mom that she is, decides to set up shop in the general vicinity of Sonny Boy's new digs.
"That's his tent over there!" she pointed out.
"Um . . . well, aren't you kind of cramping his style?" I asked.
"What do you mean?"
"Can you see how your kid and his girlfriend might think you were um . . . like, spying on them?"
"Oh no! It's not like that at all," she assured me. "I'm my kids' best friend. They trust me. Tell me everything."
Just then, another Occupation kid came up and asked about some Mary Kay item. Rochelle broke the news to him:
"I'm sorry but I'm all out of the [whatever] lotion. Here's what I have left." She pointed to a basket full of Dora the Explorer junior make-up kits.
After the kid left, Rochelle and I really got down to business. I mean . . . about Occupy Olympia. I was asking her all kinds of questions and she was answering with what seemed like a mixture of known facts, personal observations, and flat-out speculation.
<disclosure>
In the interest of truth, I should take a moment here and let you know that, as a journalist AND as a person, I am not the least bit opposed to speculation, rumors, and gossip-mongering of all kinds.
Very Truly Yours,
David
</disclosure>
Like me, Rochelle is a very open and straightforward person, and she gave me some of the real juicy gossip on Occupy Olympia. This is the kind of dope you can't get from silly rags like the Daily Olympian, of course! In fact, you can't even get it from the Occupy Olympia official Facebook page!
You can only get it from people like Rochelle and me, in fact. And unfortunately, you can't even get it from me any more, because #1 — I don't want to get Rochelle or Occupy Olympia in trouble and #2 — I have not been authorized by the Mary Kay company to discuss it.
So if you want the real dope, you'll just have to go down to Oly yourself and get it straight from Rochelle.

But don't do anything besides just talking with her and taking the cosmetics, ok? Because she's MY girl. Got it?
Did I ever tell you guys how much I love people?
That's right. Not just women, but people.
See this? This here dude was playing "Blue Danube Waltz" along with some other old revolutionary favorites. And the crowd, which consisted of me, was going wild.

It was awesome.
I'm sorry, but ya gotta love a guy a who's rockin' out with a Casio and a suitcase to a tough crowd in the middle of a revolution. Ya just gotta.

I'd love this guy even if he was playin' at a Tea Party, although personally, I don't think he'd ever do that. (Bet he's done some time in birthday/bar mitzvah purgatory, though.)
Bonus Photo:

Ah yes. See the cardboard sign to the right of Casio Hero?
It says: Haircut And/Or
That's it, just: Haircut And/Or
And now, if you'll direct your attention over to the somewhat darkened corner on the left, you'll see a guy in a plastic bag getting what looks to be one of those "and/or" jobs.
In spite of appearances, however, it was innocent. Still . . . IKYN: Half-way through the haircut, bag man gets up off his chair, turns around, pushes haircut lady up against the restroom wall, and starts giving her a back rub! And then — as if THAT weren't interesting enough — after getting her back rubbed so ostentatiously for five minutes, haircut lady turns around, stretches her arms out like a cat getting off a sofa, and declares: "I gotta go for a smoke."
!!!!!
************************************************************************************
Um . . . did I ever tell you guys how much I love people?
Oh I did?
Well OK then.
Just so ya know.
More Occupy Oly photos . . .

On the day I was there, the Daily Olympian — known in some quarters as "The Daily Zero" — had a bold-type headline insinuating that "Occupy Olympia" was nothing more than a glorified homeless encampment. (See the paper draped over the placard on the left.)
After a series of such unfavorable stories in the Daily Olympian and elswhere, camp authorities had become suspicious of journalists as a whole, and a distrust of the media cast a kind of gloom over the whole camp. Or so I felt . . .
Several people I approached in the camp directed me almost reflexively to the "media tent" where all my questions would all be answered and the truth would be revealed. But when I finally managed to locate — and squeeze into — said tent, all I found there was a group of young men busily plugging away at laptop computers. They were working on their Facebook page or some such thing and seemed to have little interest in answering my questions — particularly those questions pertaining to their "demands."
"Do you have any press releases or kits?" I queried.
—"Huh?" [tap-tap-tap]
—"Oh. You can look at our Web site if you want to know what we think about stuff." [tap-tap-tap]
"Well, can you just sort of . . . tell me what your demands are, then? Can you give me, like, three or four things that you'd like to see happen first?"
"Demands?" snapped one of them, a young man with a wisp of a beard and the earnestest of earnest expressions. "That's reductionist! It's an oversimplification of what this movement is ABOUT."
The others nodded silently in agreement. Who the hell IS this old fart? their chilly vibe seemed to be saying. And why does he think we should trust him?
**************************************************************************************
I have to admit that when I heard the word "reductionist" I went a little misty. For a moment there, I thought I was an undergrad once more, quaffing pints at the College Inn after locking the Dean of Students into the broom closet . . .
[Sigh]
In spite of the chill, I hung around for a while, talking up Occupy Seattle and generally slinging them shit, while they explained about how unfairly they'd been treated by the local press and asked me to tell WSB readers to support them because "Olympia is where it's all happening."
[Specifically, they are calling for sympathizers in Washington, and specifically Occupy Seattle and Occupy Tacoma, to come out in support of their November 23rd action on the Capitol Campus. I believe November 23 is when the Legislature meets to discuss the latest state budget cutbacks.]
In the end, I guess the guys in the media tents decided they could trust me and that my question about their demands wasn't that oversimplified after all. As I was leaving, one of them stood up from the computer table and handed me a pamphlet entitled: "Demands of the 99%"
–Of which I shall tell you more presently.

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