Lurking from your lurkem

Nervous lurker...

If you didn’t watch the Remarkably Foolish video from yesterday, I’d encourage you to go back there and watch it. The first sketch is so gross out funny. The second descends into pure fart joke mayhem.

This seems apt. Jamie’s studio was an incredible place. It was a different time. It was withered industrial without the restoration gloss and polish. It was more like ass hair and motor oil. The room was glorious in its filth.

It also contained a couple of bamboo Kendo shinai. These were three foot long sticks for hitting each other with. Inside. Each of the few times I visited him there, I left with bruised and bloody knuckles. It was glorious.

His building was next door to an old toy factory. The toy factory had a dumpster. Prototypes. Promotional items. Waste product. The dumpster was a gold mine.

On one trip to the dumpster? We discovered it filled knee deep with metal milk bottle caps with different faces printed on them. Steel walls six feet tall. Eighteen inches of material that move quite easily when kicked. It was like being in fluffy snow. Only the experience was anything but peaceful. Words. Can't. Capture. The. Noise.

What odd places do you like to go lurking in?

Where are they?

When are they?

What brings you back there?

What did you bring with you from there?

One Derful Thing


Lurk around your home.

Sit in closets.

Go put yourself behind a chair.

Sit under the kitchen table.

Find a lurkem

A lurky place.

If you’re at work?

You can lurk.

But don’t be creapy.

Ask a friend

Where’s the line

Between lurky and creapy.

Challenge each other to try and play with odd, lurky, walks.

Make them like the ministry of silly walks.

Only with lurking.