(I got a manic series of emails from Dave Brother Dave in response to the "Photocopy art. Finger, nose. Tongue." post, which I've strung together and edited because I can.)

No... nope. Let's see... I graduated and moved above the CC Club that year. We only lived up there something like 7 months. Met Cathy when I was 18, same as CC Club and graduation. You made the fateful promise to publish me while I was still at mom and dad's, for a graduation present or something. Completed "work" on it above the CC Club. TKLAFA (The Kindergarten Leaves Are Falling Again), circa 1986. We are old fuckers. OLD FUCKERS. 'Course, you're older.

Wait, WAIT.

I was a punk throughout school career, I was 17 when I met Cathy... yes, yes. Because you gave me the 20oz of Bull (malt liquor) graduation night, and I drank it that night (closer at Burger King) in a "large" cup with a straw to magnify the affect ("affect: The conscious subjective aspect of feeling or emotion" - what can I say... it's the arteest in me) which turned out to be nothing. Thanks anyway. I turned 18 (legal - at the time) with Cathy at my side. I legitimately drank alcohol with Cathy and Piggy on the back steps of the house (we didn't close on it yet, and had no key to drink inside). Piggy found something in the overgrown grass next to the back steps... what was it?... shit... I will ask Cathy... wait...

OK. Cathy didn't remember what was found, then I did. Nothing was found. We stashed the empties down there. A subversive move because we did not yet "own" the house.

("Let's get sushi and not pay." - Repo Man)