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| Our crew, most days. |
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| Skif Pilot Jonnie. |
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| The old barge. |
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| Todd welcoming us aboard. |
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| Glen tying anchoring our skif to the barge. |
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| Fishing off the barge. |
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| Remains of a WWII era bathroom. |
[Originally posted on I'm Nacho Steppinstone, Dec. 21 2004]
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| Our crew, most days. |
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| Skif Pilot Jonnie. |
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| The old barge. |
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| Todd welcoming us aboard. |
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| Glen tying anchoring our skif to the barge. |
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| Fishing off the barge. |
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| Remains of a WWII era bathroom. |
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| Taco Bell: How to eat a Soft Taco. |
Our family’s lineage can be traced back to Adam Gilliom, who emigrated from Switzerland to Indiana in the 1800s. At that time, we were Apostolic. A few generations later, my father became the first member of our family to leave the church entirely—a decision he made on his own. He’s mentioned that it was a tough time because none of his friends were allowed to talk to him anymore, and he deeply missed hunting and fishing with one of his cousins.
According to my parents, when I was a little kid, I had a memorable encounter with an Amish buggy. One passed by our house, and I took off chasing after it without a word. My mom was frantic when she realized I was missing; she even called the police.
Eventually, someone reported seeing a little kid running down the road after a buggy, yelling, "Horsey! Horsey!" The police found me and brought me home. When my mom asked what I was doing, I told her with great determination that I wanted to be “an Amish” when I grew up.
The best Presto Magix kits included a large variety of characters, but there were some duds like Superman's Fortress of Solitude that didn't give you much to work with. The only way to entertain yourself with these duds was to make inappropriate half-assed creations like this one that I found in a box of old personal items some years ago.![]() |
| From the enclosed Shower Heads informational brochure. |
In the late 1980s, I had started college and was working a third-shift security guard job in a factory, from about 11:00 in the evening until 7:00 in the morning.
There weren’t too many responsibilities; I would just make hourly patrols. I think it was an insurance thing for them. I liked it because I could study between rounds.
I only bring this up because I remembered another guard there named Werner. He was one of those out-of-shape idiot wannabe cops who thought a low-level security guard job was the same thing as joining a SWAT team.
Anyway, I only bring up Werner because of his messed-up fantasy life. I remember one particular shift change when he started rambling on and on about how he’d love for somebody to try to break into his house so he could shoot them legally. If they weren’t armed, he said, he would put another gun in their hand to justify the shooting.
One night, he drew me a diagram of his fantasy home, which included a large pyramid structure with a hot tub at the top. All three sides of the pyramid were made up of stairs, like this:
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| Werner's fantasy love-spa. |
It was really important to him that the pyramid be tall enough so that he could survey the entire surrounding area from the comfort of his hot tub, ensuring that no one could ever sneak up on him. I couldn't quite understand why he felt so strongly about this, particularly in the context of the hot tub.
As if that weren't strange enough, he shared a fantasy where he was in the hot tub with his wife, surrounded by a stash of guns just in case he needed them. Suddenly, he notices someone trying to sneak up the side of his pyramid.
He said he would climb out of the hot tub, ask his wife to tie a towel around his exposed privates, and then shoot the intruder without hesitation.
As the fantasy continued, more people appeared, coming from all sides of the pyramid. He was being swarmed! He dealt with the situation by firing at everyone, all while his wife kept handing him fresh ammunition.
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| Werner's action sequence. |
I talked to my dad, Jon Sr. (or “Uncle Jon” to all the cousins), and it sounds like spring fever has officially hit Alaska. He just repurposed an old golf club bag into a custom “gun bag,” modifying it to carry his rifles and shotguns—including his oversized bear gun. The plan is to mount it to the side of his snowmobile for hunting trips.
On a lighter note, I once came across an artist’s rendering of what Elvis might’ve looked like in his 50s. The resemblance to Jon Sr. was uncanny.
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| Jon Sr. dip-netting Hooligan in 1998. |
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| Elvis in his 50s. |
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| Hello, World. |
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| Hulk Hands Charge. |
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| Ho Ho Ho |
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| How to attach your wiener to a tape recorder. |
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| Me w/ giant melon. |
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| Labor Ready office, early in the a.m. |
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| In my day-labor gear, last day working at Space Mountain. |
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| Happy 4th of July. |
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| Happy 4th of July. |
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| Heavy contrast. |
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| Sunburn not looking nearly as bad in photo. |
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| Sunburn hat head. |
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| Naked On Roller Skates. |
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| Ducks in the pool. |
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| Too little. |
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| Duckling ramp. |
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| Resolution. |
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| Moses' promotional t-shirt. |
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| "Don't go to bed with a price on your head." |
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| Sleeve detail. |
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| Back panel images, wide view. |
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| 8 Commandments detail. |