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Prospect Park
2011-07-23

I just finished redesigning this website. No longer is rabbledistro.com a clunky frame-based monstrosity - behold the sleek and dynamic PHP-powered beauty.

Course it looks exactly the same, except now if you link to it from Facebook a little picture of the logo pops up.

As for content - I've added 4 zines to the print zine section. "Haggard Beast," which I am finally distro-ing 4 years after I told Hannah I would. "A Monument To Dead Skin and Facial Hair" - which Tim strictly speaking has not yet given me the green light to distribute. "I Am A Punk and Yes, I Am A Segway Tour Guide" which 6 months ago I did get the green light on, but since then I fear I may have fallen out of favor with the author. And finally "Gauntlets #1: Solo" - which I am absolutely allowed to distribute. All excellent reads.

Many changes in my life since I last updated this site.

My career at Jimmy John's Gourmet Subs is finished. The bastards finally fired me, supposedly for my involvement in the posting of this poster:

My comrades in arms promptly responded by designing this poster:

Personally I think I was fired for being a union organizer. The boys and I have filed charges with the Labor Board and who knows maybe someday I'll be slinging subs at JJs again.

In other big Pudd'nhead news, I recently became the 50th punk to move out of the Shit Biscuit. And apparently not a moment too soon, as those who remain will soon be evicted. Au revoir Shit Bisquette - I spose I should write a letter to MRR in your remembrance.

I now live in a quiet apartment in Prospect Park beneath an anti-war pharmacy. I worry that my dog Lucius may be lonely, but on the bright side no roommates have come at me with a hatchet or tagged all over the house about what an asshole I am. Seemed to be a problem at the last place.

I also live just a couple blocks from the Witch's Hat Water Tower, which is built on the highest natural landmass in Minneapolis. The Tower has a tiny park attached to it where students and children of wealthy Prospect Park inhabitants sit on benches and whisper sweet nothings in eachother's ears. Lucius and I stick out like a sore thumb.

In general though I'm loving the quiet. My stress level has plummeted and my productivity has increased. The bike ride back from Southside is murder when shitty drunk, but I am in no hurry to rejoin the ranks of punk house tenants.

Also Amy Winehouse joined the 27 club yesterday. I kinda liked her as a pop culture icon. That is all.

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