Southern Church Marquees and Mind Explosions.

So, we still don't know a whole lot about the South, I think that's fair to say. This may be a regional phenomenon or this may be a County phenomenon, or maybe it's all over the South, I don't know. Regardless, the church marquees down these parts are fantastic.
Borderline offensive? Without a doubt. Remarkably clever? Absolutely. Unintentionally hilarious to us atheists? FUCK YES.
We got together today in our brainstorming fortress of solitude and decided to post a weekly photo of one of these amazing marquees. Eventually, we hope to publish a collection as the greatest coffee table book ever. Here's your first taste of blood:

Now, technically that's not a church marquee, as it's outside of our favorite thrift store (Good Samaritan Super Thrift in Burlington, NC).  But the store itself is probably closer to being a church than most churches back up north.  See: free bibles, "This Property Protected by Jesus Christ" sign out front, free preacher's cassettes, crazy old southern ladies who say "Have a Blessed Day" when you finish buying a shiny green chair or $2 dollar martial arts stomach pad.

So that's the first...keep an eye out next weekend for a new picture.

This North Carolina Sky business...

Alls we know is, we don't get sky like this back home. This is from a recent trip to Burlington, a rather haggard area full of thrift stores and gas stations with ashtray internet casinos--our strong preference over the rampant presence of counter-culture coffee and hybrid cars with tame political bumper stickers of Chapel Hill or Carrboro. I'm pretty sure there are no hippies wearing crocs and pushing $1500 strollers in Burlington. Just big ass skies and big ass steaks.  In the battle for our souls, out of business gas stations with ten foot piles of used tires will always triumph over khaki pants and an ironic like of hip hop.

WHERE IS PALESTINE...

Israel lobby or over-worked asian textile designer mistake? I have my theories, but I've worked with many a talented Korean in the shower curtain world, and they seem to have a good idea of what border separation means. For now, we're left to face an ambiguous agenda every morning as we lather our armpits with dial, scratching our heads. At least we know where Svalbard is.

Biggie Smalls Vs. Gentrification, Round 34589735.