J. Barrett Wolf

From now on I am calling it:
The Gulf Of Amuckraker.

As it turns out, the store has been there for THIRTY years.

Having watched 'Wicked' three times thus far, I have to say it is clear to me that it ain't just women who identify strongly and painfully with Elphaba.

Old, Odd, and Unique in Binghamton, NY Open Thurs, Fri, Sat 12 noon to 5 PM

My shop, Old, Odd, and Unique in Binghamton, NY.
A landmark there for more than twenty years.

My store, Old, Odd, and Unique, in Binghamton, NY is called that for a reason...

Haven't tried shrink tubing, but have no inherent objection to a fix that saves a hundred bucks. I am also a fan of those old SC electrics. I have one I spent hours getting unstuck.

I am considering sending it to Garren Hot Rod Typewriter for a custom paint job.

Oh, I get it... I have a blower stand on the porch, which is currently 15 degrees. I use Gamsol, which is deodorized mineral spirits and it actually doesn't smell.

I have a shop room in my home. I work on machines and other projects.

I buy sell and collect. This S-C is one of several I have that I did cleaning and service on. I do not tear them down farther than sometimes taking the shell off to clean or repair. I have more than 80 machines.

Smith-Corona Silent Portable Typewriter

This is NOT actually a response from Campbells Soup. It's a gag site that responds in the name of assorted companies.

Pledging love unto death is as old as Shakespeare.
Stop tunneling to find problems with the good stuff.

Stain Dybbuk?

Moi.

From the department of JUST SO WE'RE CLEAR:

There is no justification for the current American way of financing healthcare save one: Vulture Capitalism.

Good day to you, sir!

Elon Musk is danger to society.

"America's not man enough to make a woman president." - Michael Steel

For those not paying attention

For Ginger, Who Knew Ginger, who knew I'd slip away, would smile and stiffen ever-so-slightly when I touched her dark, flat stomach. Ginger, who knew of men and fear saw the weight of history but gently laughed down city hills to lunch on Lombard Street. Ginger, who knew there was no hope, swore she didn't know how to do those things she did so well that all these years later I still shiver. Ginger, who knew I couldn't win, foretold that I'd stop because, poor child, I'd been trained that something is wrong with loving a black woman even as good as it was, even as frightening, even as I write these words For Ginger, who knew. © J. Barrett Wolf / All rights reserved

Sign that reads: In this house we believe that simplistic platitudes, trite tautologies, and semantically overloaded aphorisms are poor substitutes for respectful and rational discussions about complex issues.

Italian Broad for J. Someday, your gonna be an old Italian broad with a grand set of curves and an evil eye or two. The crock on the stove will boil all day, while you craft vexations and blessings on the back of old pizza shop place mats. You will remain fetching, in grandiloquent earth tone skirts turning the heads of seasoned men, but they won’t matter – you will still be Strega, woman of bewitchment flirting through the night and driving the young men wild, your passion and fury causing storms both great and small that bear your name through a perennial season of hurricanes, typhoons, and carnality. Oh, yes, you will still be the choicest sin of the flesh in the eyes of whatever gods are feeling randy that day. Your breasts will rise and fall like meteors and thunder, while in a catacomb beneath the ages of Rome there will be a grotto, carved in stone the color of rust and garnet and dedicated to every one of your lips. © J. Barrett Wolf / All rights reserved

Any further questions?

But, she's a real boob.

Well said John.

YouTube video by Rev Ed Trevors The Cost To The Church For Going MAGA

I am a long-time atheist, but I appreciate this...

A Reverend who understands the damage MAGA support by Christians has done to the church.

The Death Supermarket At the Death Supermarket The lighting is Indirect. Tastefully padded red velvet shelves, Tiered gracefully, Holding the necessities of un-life. Floral arrangements adorn the endcaps: On special this week at $6.99, As if time meant anything to those passing Here where the customers Not the coupons Expire. At the Death Supermarket The frozen food cases have no windows. Dread seems appropriate As cold-edged mist escapes The open door – What is inside? Venison and chicken legs. The shoppers linger Weighing carefully their choices As if there were some way They might avoid Checking out. © J. Barrett Wolf / All rights reserved

Roja Beneath the summer sun, the copper prism of your hair spills thirst like a fountain on my parched tongue reminding me that feeling empty is not always about food or drink. I try to behave as if you not a warm, dry August night, as if I don't want to greet your hips like a ballroom dance and merengue all the way to Hispaniola, spilling wine and passion down Avenida de Los Arboles, making traffic lights blush their unimportance, when they realize we are all the light we need. © J. Barrett Wolf / All rights reserved.