Diamond (the friend who makes the wire wraps) was a professional tattoo artist in the Before Times, and has some artwork that I might post as well. I'm buying him a tattoo gun next paycheck.

There's a whole other world out there, under bridges and next to freeway on-ramps and charging at the Cuban place that doesn't turn off/lock the patio outlets at night.

God, I've never heard of the Philadelphia Wireman before.

You'd be surprised as fuck at the kind of skill, intellect, and heart that exists on the streets. My best friend, the other dude who camps with us and sort of "owns" the camp, who I'll call Ben, is smart as fuck. He found these drawings by a lady whose kids just threw out, and he handled them with a lot of care, and when I asked what he was going to do with them the way he asked if I wanted them made it sound like he wanted to find a home for them. He also found a bitchin ass antique sword.

He cares a lot about me. He's kind of a douchebag, but it's like an older brother who makes fun of you. He knows being nice to me isn't going to change me.