OLD GREG T SHIRTS - STAIN ON HER WHITE T SHIRT - KIDS ROCK T SHIRTS
- The following is a list of recurring characters from The Mighty Boosh, including characters from the television series, the radio series, and the various stage shows. Most of the recurring characters are played by Julian Barratt, Noel Fielding, Michael Fielding, Rich Fulcher or Dave Brown.
- (T Shirt (album)) T Shirt is a 1976 album by Loudon Wainwright III. Unlike his earlier records, this (and the subsequent 'Final Exam') saw Wainwright adopt a full blown rock band (Slowtrain) - though there are acoustic songs on T-Shirt, including a talking blues.
- A T-shirt (T shirt or tee) is a shirt which is pulled on over the head to cover most of a person's torso. A T-shirt is usually buttonless and collarless, with a round neck and short sleeves.
- A short-sleeved casual top, generally made of cotton, having the shape of a T when spread out flat
Brother Greg, AKA Greg Rancourt, is a watercolor artist that tattoos at Laguna Tattoo in California. Originally from Hollywood, Brother Greg's work has been inspired by Ed Hardy, Sailor Jerry, and other American Traditional artists.
Preshrunk off white tee. This item is part of the Vintage Line, aptly printed on vintage washed clothing to give the clothing a worn look and even softer feel. Premium 100% cotton fabric with a soft design touch and quality printing techniques. We love our art, and want it to last! Clothing made in the USA, tattoo art illustrated by wicked cool tattoo artists worldwide. Authorized Dealer of BlackMarket Art-Lowbrow's fine products.
I'm wearing my 30 year old birthday suit!
Yes. Last month, in preparation for my birthday, I went and got naked at one of my favorite falls here in Oregon. And no, I wasn't alone.
Patrick was supposed to be out that day with Ara and Greg, so I made plans to go out with Morgann, whose last visit here resulted in a busted tripod and I lost a filter. My friend Joel wound up coming along, and good thing he did, because Morgann wasn't feeling so hot and missed my nude dash into the water for this photo. (I'm sure she's devastated.)
I spent some time the morning I shot this wading around the pool, seeing how deep certain spots were, checking camera angles, and I finally decided on my plan...and three people showed up. One was very, very skeevy. Not just ex-con skeevy, but like he had served time for something offensive. Even Joel got the creeps. The three meth users disappeared into the mine next to the pool, with their pitbull (who couldn't swim and was terrified of Joel and I, not a very useful drug dog if you ask me) and their blind cocker spaniel. Presumably to spike a vein. You can take that however you wish, they were in a mine after all.
By the time our three unwelcome guests left, the sun had broken through the morning clouds and I was pissed. I am glaringly, transparently, white. Full sun on my ass was going to be blinding for certain.
And then three more hikers arrived. They were probably younger than me, and looked cool enough. On their way into the mine I explained my plans to run around naked for a bit. They didn't care if I didn't care, so after they disappeared into the tunnel, Joel wandered off to shoot wildflowers (and potentially me with a zoom lens) and took a walkie-talkie with him, so I could give him the ok when I was clothed again.
Joel disappeared into the brush, and I knew it was then or never. I hadn't streaked since high school, and at the time I intended on being seen. This somehow felt all wrong, getting naked in a public place, but I just couldn't resist. I draped my bra and shirt over a log, and threw on my hoodie, and dropped trou. With just my sweatshirt to cover me, I set up the interval shooting on my camera. I hit the shutter, and as I ran towards the pool I threw off the sweatshirt, naked as could be but for the water shoes so I didn't slip on the rocks or cut my feet, and I flailed my way into the deep, freezing water, laughing hysterically at the situation, the cold water running down my body from the spray, feeling the sunlight on my ass for the first time in years. It felt pretty damned liberating. And after holding my pose for a couple of minutes, I turned around and looked at the rocky shore, clothes strewn about, camera aimed in my direction, knowing within a hundred feet of me were three strangers and a friend's husband with a camera, and I was immensely satisfied with what I had pulled off.
I dragged on my clothes again, calling Joel on the walkie talkie, told him I was decent again. He had to clarify that I was never decent, but did I have clothes on.
So here it is, my 30th birthday. I'm in worse shape at 30 than I was in some respects, just ask my check book, but in other ways I'm glad to be rid of my 20s, which brought death, pain, and turmoil into my heart to live permanently. I will always carry the scars of my 20s, metaphorically and physically, my tattoos will give warning to anyone who pays attention to them that I am a survivor of something indescribably painful. But now I am on my feet again, even if it is totally naked for the world to see, and looking forward to more of my new life here in Oregon.
And you just never know when you'll find me naked at a waterfall. There have already been other incidents, just a heads up...
talking to Girl Talk during the set
My friend Kim and I were in the balcony (we're both old) for the Girl Talk early set at Metro on January 26, 2008.
Therefore, the angles I got of the stage were quite different than I usually do. I don't know if that's a good thing or a bad thing.
This is about the only stage shot I got that I really liked (though there are others that will be going on my other account).
The crowd was really obnoxious yesterday due to it being an all-ages show. But they did provide some excitement in their hero worship as opposed to just enjoying the music.
old greg t shirts
He has been cursed since age 15, carrying always the appositive affixed eternally to his name--the youngest pitcher in major league baseball. And yet the Joe Nuxhall story neither begins nor ends with the appositive. Baseball, in fact, may not even have been his best sport. He was a high school fullback, big and fast and good enough to be All-State, and he was unquestionably the best schoolboy basketball center in Ohio. He had pitched ten no-hitters before he was 15, however, and when he pitched for the Cincinnati Reds that historic time, he first had to get permission from his 9th grade principal, and ferried himself to Crosley Field and back, alone, on the bus. It was not, as history tells us, an auspicious occasion (an ERA of 67.50), but it launched the remarkable career of perhaps the best-loved and most enduring sports figure Cincinnati has ever seen. Noted sportscaster Greg Hoard's new biography, Joe, dramatically paints the Depression era background of "Hamilton Joe," closing industrial league games for his athletic father when the boy was barely a teenager, facing feared veteran slugger Stan Musial his first time up, and on to Birmingham, where he watched, astounded, while a lanky Negro pitcher named Satchel Paige warmed up by throwing strikes across a piece of chewing gum tinfoil. "The Old Left-Hander" pitched twenty-two seasons of professional baseball, including an All-Star year in 1955 when he led the league in shut-outs, and even when he retired to the broadcasting booth, he was still pitching batting practice. Greg Hoard's tale of baseball's last great innocent is the story of a charmed life, in which a blue-collar kid from a gritty industrial town, by great athleticism and a disarming guilelessness, found himself an enduring legend.
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