Tag Archives: Burning Man Fashion

Brooklyn Badges – Inappropriate Merit Badges for Adults

Posted on by
Reply

Mish mentioned some kind of funny and improbable merit badges that were available somewhere. Our friend Elaine posted a link two weeks ago on her page that pointed me right to the source. Brooklyn Badges. Robert Marbury is the genius behind these extremely high quality embroidered patches. He has 21 different badges available. I’ll display some of them below. I’ve attached them to my Burning Man un-safety vest to show everyone just how accomplished I am in various improbable areas of dubious skills.  

Safety Third!

 Among the badges are:

 

Apple Bong Badge

 

Bacon Appreciation Badge

 

Crop Dusting Patch
 
Drunk Biking Badge

 

Drunk Showering Badge

 

Spanner in the Works Badge

Over the course of my life, I have demonstrated my proficiency in the skills necessary to truly earn these badges. Until now I had no means to share these accomplishments with the world. Robert has finally given me a way to show others just how damned good I am. Thanks Robert!

They are amazingly affordable at just four bucks each. They are of amazing quality and it appears they will stand the test of time. Robert’s customer service is second to none and he uses faster than light shipping technology. As far as I recall, they arrived the day before I ordered them! Now that’s fast.
 
Go see his entire line of badges at Brooklyn Badges.

 

My summer vacation: What I did at Burning Man

Posted on by
6

Burning Man 2011 was my first burn. I’ve been meaning to go for 15 years but work and caring for sweetpea had kept me away until this year. I retired a year and a half ago and Sweetpea said to just go and do it.

The desert is one of my favorite places to be. I was sent to many deserts while serving in the US Army, but the Black Rock Desert in northern Nevada is unique among them. No sand for starters. Just talcum powder fine alkali dust. No plants, no animals, no washes or dry streambeds. Just flat wide open expanses that stretch for 30 to 70 miles with only mere feet in elevation difference. It is truly one of the most beautiful environments that I have ever had the privelege to visit. I was there in late July, long before 55,00 other people were there to share it at the burn. It was quieter than anywhere else I’d ever been and totally empty of everything. Nothing but lots of nothing. That all changed in early August when advance crews began to build the world’s largest temporary city.

What I did at Burning Man…

I played with my fireball generator, AKA “Fire Poofer”. I design and build propane flame effects and built this one, “Grizelda MK IV”, to bring out to the desert.

Elder Wrong, Burning Man’s own PBR guzzling Mormon missionary, manifesting his own “burning bush” through the miracle of the fireball generator. You can follow Elder Wrong and his mission at: http://ElderWrong.wordpress.com

Directing traffic on ‘A’ street. DO NOT fuck with a man with a sign, a gun, and orange hair. It’s just not a good idea…

 

Hanging out with the pretty ladies of Burning Man. This is Piney. She is one of the founders of the Booby Bar, a bar featuring two giant domes with huge pink nipples on top. Sadly, 2011 was their last year of exsitence as supporting the boobies was just too tiring and didn’t allow enough time for the supporters to experience the burn. Piney is also a member of Reno’s “Controlled Burn”, a fire conclave that features fire spinners and very large flame effects including two liquid shooters firing 20 gallons of gasoline into columns of fire reaching altitudes of 100 feet into the night sky.

Firing sunset salutes with FOGBANK, the propane & oxygen fueled sound cannon built and operated by Espressodude. The sound of the cannon reaches 180 decibels, twice as loud as an F-16 with afterburners engaged. Espressodude also served up over 50 pounds worth of Starbucks coffee beans in the form of espresso to the citizens of Black Rock City. His espresso, made with one of his two commercial espresso machines, was provided free of charge to the citizenry. His name comes from the fact that he uses his machines at home to consume up to a dozen shots of espresso per day. He is a VERY high energy individual and I can’t even begin to keep up with him…

Brushing my teeth and having it documented by Ben tang of Ben Tang Photography.

Roasting and eating midgets in Terminal City. Here I have shrunken Elder Wrong and thrown him on the barbee. We ate of his flesh but, of course, he was raised from the dead with no complications. We saved some leftovers for him which he greatly enjoyed…

Hanging out with more of the beautiful ladies of Burning Man. Here is the exquisite Miss Savannah. She handmade a wonderful pendant for Sweetpea who was unable to attend. I am honored to count her as a friend and was privleged to be able to wrap my arms around her for hugs and photos.

The pendant Savannah made for Sweetpea. So many of my friends know and love Sweetpea from my frequent mentions of her. Notice the map cast under the resin and the words “Black Rock Desert”. Thank you so much Sav. The Sweet One and I love you very much!

Dressing up for nighttime adventure. I’ll let you use your imaginations… The skirt made from a pair of US Army paratroopers trousers was graciously given to me by Quick, the beautiful Chief Warrant Officer of MASH 4207, “The Best Care On The Playa”, a medical relief camp providing comfort to the afflicted of BRC.  The gold helmet is my genuine kevlar helmet brought home from my gig in the US Army.

Cooking Spam with my 1.5 million BTU liquid propane fueled flamethrower. Knowmad provided the heat while I held my meat. Nom nom nom…

Sunset over the Flaming Lotus Girls 2011 fire art installation, Tympani Lambada.

Burning Man, something to do before you die.

Some blogs that I enjoy

Posted on by
1

I still haven’t figured out how to post links to my favorite blogs on the homepage so I’ll do it here…

I’m Going to Burning Man, whatever shall I wear? A blog by a friend who is a crafting queen, awesome outfitter, and funny girl. Not to mention hot, mreow…

DustyCouture.com By Dusty Bacon, Burning Man’s fashion authority! See my earlier post “Dusty Bacon on Foxfur”. Visit his site if you have no idea what Burning Man is or what outfits one could possibly wear in the middle of the desert.

Redneck Fag An interesting gentleman. His description of himself: “Calling this blog “Redneck Fag” is meant as a joke in reaction to the sanctimonious Leftists. I’m not a real redneck. I’m really just a middle-aged, middle-class, middle-brow, middle-of-the-road, “don’t tread on me”, “don’t fence me in” classical liberal Republican farmer and businessman who just so happens to be a fag.” Recent posts include topics such as astronomy, philosophy, lady pirates (with guns, hot!), and literature.

Big Gay Al’s Big Gay (Gun) Blog ”From the Coordinator of the Michigan Pink Pistols, a GLBT and Kink friendly, shooting sports group. It’s called “Big Gay Al’s Big Gay (Gun) Blog,” as it’s mostly about guns and gun rights, Open and Concealed carry, and sometimes about other things, and it’s so GAY!” What is it? It’s super, thanks for asking! Again, this is not another single issue blog (Boring!). His status updates at the end of each post crack me the hell up…  ”Current Mood: Calm
 Current Music: Rocky Horror Picture Show – Sweet Transvestite
My Carry Pistol: RIA M1911-A1 .45ACP 100 years old and still going strong”

More to come…

Dusty Bacon on Foxfur

Posted on by
2
Last month I was fortunate enough to attend Controlled Burn’s Compression Fire & Arts Festival in Reno, Nevada. I had a blast meeting, in person, so many people from the Burning Man community that I’ve met in various online forums.

I brought with me some of what I will be wearing at Burning Man including the infamous shoulder armor rig. It began as a 3 dollar second thought at a thrift store and soon took on a life of its own and consumed over 100 hours of my time bringing it to its present form. I was hanging out around Espressodude’s up-armored Xterra and Kernul Killbuck’s Urban Assault Vehicle on the bridge when I was approached by Dusty Bacon. Yeah, THE Dusty Bacon. Burning Man’s fashion expert himself asked if he could take a photograph of me wearing the armor. You know me. I’m rather shy, hesitant to share, and bashful, but he coaxed me into it… He took three photos that I have been dying to see. Today I found them. He wove them into a wonderful video highlighting the burner fashion that was all about on that beautiful summer day in downtown Reno. I won’t tell you where I appear in it as you really need to watch the entire video to appreciate the day’s fashions and Dusty’s photography. Three minutes of bliss…

Compression! A Fine Example of Reno’s Burner Styles 

I have not embedded Dusty’s video or screencaps here because they are his, not mine, and you need to see his burner fashion site to believe it.

Foxfur in armor. Weapon and helmet courtesy of Kernul Killbuck.

A closeup shot of the armor showing a few of the message plates.

 You may notice that there are V’s where U’s should be. I lost the U stamp in my set so had to make do. Thanks ancient romans!

Each plate was beat to hell and dented up, stamped with messages, hammer contoured to fit the specific spot on the armor, riveted or bolted in place, chemically antiqued, buffed, and paint filled to enhance visibility of the messages. There are more than 30 plates.

Wheee!

Bad men chasing my hot ass

Posted on by
6
A friend and I have been wearing our Burning Man outfits in public lately. Mostly we have gone to restaurants but also surplus stores and junkyards. There is nothing in the world like putting a smile on peoples faces when they least expect it. Last monday our theme was post-apocalyptic. Last night it was a bit less specific. My friend showed up looking like he was from the 17th century and with his hair and glasses he appeared to be a direct descendant of the Franklin family.  I am rather male in gender and showed up looking like I was ready for a night cruising the gay bars… My mannerisms have always been sort of gender neutral with some leaning towards the feminine side. Deal with it. Though not trying or meaning to be, I do believe that I came across to the crowd as the genuine article. (Oh fuck! / Yay me!) Do I care? Oh hell no.
Sweetpea is my female childcare provider (wife, ME being said child) of 14 years and recently has become my incredibly talented and eager accessorizer. How sweet is that?
_____
 
Note to self:
Do not wear tight shiny hiphugger bellbottom sweats with pink side stripes, silver bracelets and necklace, rabbit fur vest, and nosering into a shitkicker bar!
 
I met Minxy, Helga and eDude for dinner. I had said the Helvetia Tavern BUT what I meant was the Rock Creek Tavern. Sweetpea helped once again in accessorizing me and I looked great. (I am a mild narcisissist but completely harmless…)
I arrived at the Rock Creek Tavern and soon figured out my mistake. I asked the boy at the bar for directions to their competitor. He graciously obliged me and I departed directly. Upon arrival at the Helvetia Tavern I looked around and noticed the looks. Sweet! After enjoying a burger and what turned out to be the best onion rings that I’ve ever had, I realized that the looks (that had continued throughout the meal) were not as desirable as I’d have preferred. In fact, most were downright hostile. Well fuck me. I had to exit the tavern section and enter the “family” section to use the ATM. Those tight little sweats didn’t hold much besides my credit card and juicyfruit (take that any way you like it…). Evidently ladies don’t carry wallets in their back pockets! Who knew? I could feel the burning eyes of the hayseeds and the women ignorant enough to breed with them melting the silky nylon goodness that firmly contained my ass (I’m very proud of it as it has held up remarkably well over the years, unlike many other parts of my declining physique.) I held my hands tightly on the sides of the ATM being ready to mule-kick anyone who might have gotten too close for my comfort which was virtually nonexistent at that point. My $100 and my key to freedom had dropped into the pan. My paws scooped it up gratefully and I assumed that my speedy escape was virtually guaranteed. A mouth-breather in full motorcycle garb exited the restroom beside the ATM. In front of him was his dirt-headed mountain child, or his latest kidnap victim, hard to tell with that crowd. They made their way past me (I SHOULD have jumped in front of them while I had the chance) and walked slowly to the door. I emerged unscathed from the door and unconciously my hand fell to my back pocket. Imagine my surprise when I felt and remembered my little plush fox that I’d tucked in there with just its head and front paws poking out the top. Maybe they were simply admiring the overwhelming cuteness of him? I rather doubt it…
I reentered the tavern room and made my way to the register now fully aware of the unfriendly looks being gratuitously showered upon me. The cretin at the grill looked up at me with a sneer and then refocused on his greasy charges. (Does the health department really approve of a cheekful of chewing tobacco while Enos there cooks our food?) It took what seemed like an eternity for the waitress to make her way to the register. I was so glad to see her pretty face (a real cutie with an angelic smile and eyes to die for. What the fuck was she doing there? Run, girl, run!) The entire time my ass was pointing towards the patrons, er, fuckwits. I told her to keep the change, went to the table, and our party made a hasty exit. Sweetpea had said before I left the house that I’d have folks, ok, guys, chasing my ass.
Sure, they all wanted a piece of it but not in any way that I’d have found even remotely enjoyable… 
 
Before I left my truck to begin my big adventure, I really didn’t think the low waistband of the sleek sweats would have held, let alone supported, my concealed carry holster with my sub-compact .45 automatic. A quick fitting proved that indeed they would! Always a handy thing for a guy in ladies sweats to know. I had to stop at the PO box in my shitkicker sawmill town for the mail. I tied the waistband tight and they held my handgun quite securely. 
I learn something new everyday… 
 

Don't touch my ass, cowboy!