THE SKYLINE'S THE LIMIT...

by Tallulah Lastname, Company Clerk:

The Company convoy has stopped in Louisville, KY, en route to Columbus, OH. It's a favourite pit stop for many of the misanthropes. A relaxing place to stroll around, restock and sample the various bourbons Kentucky has to offer.

(logo courtesy of Skyline Chili)

While in town, the hungry food tourists of the Company discovered a new regional culinary delight known as as Skyline Chili.

(photo of deliciousness by Reverend Aitor)

Technically, a Cincinnati restaurant chain, Skyline has made it's inroads into Kentucky. It is loved enough for its chili-based fare to be consider as local Louisville's own hot brown.

It's garbage food. But it's delicious garbage food.

Among the restaurant's signature dishes are the 3-, 4-, and 5-Way Chilies. In short, three variation of a plate of steaming spaghetti, smothered in secret recipe chili, covered in finely-shredded cheese. Best when accompanied by a chili dog.

(Skyline Chili 3-Way eating contest)

Named after the view of the Cincinnati skyline founder Nicholas Lambrinides admired from his first restaurant's location, Skyline's chili recipe is a tightly clutched family secret. It's distinct flavour has spawned a number of attempted imitations, giving rise to what is now regarded as Cincinnati-style chili; characterized by a thinner, differently-spiced sauce than that of it's better-known Texas counterpart.

* * *

A MEAL FIT FOR AN UNFIT THE KING...

by Talullah Lastname, Company Clerk:

No pit stop in Memphis is complete without an overpriced fried peanut butter and banana sandwich at the Rock & Roll Diner, right across the street from Graceland.

(photo by T-Bone)

The rich melange of savoury, sweet, and salty was a signature favourite of Elvis Presley's. Some of the misanthropes also opted for a side of bacon, given that it was another of the King's favourite snacks. The tour guide at Graceland informed the company that Elvis kept bowls of bacon around the house, for casual munching.

* * *

B.C. BUDDIES...

by Rufus Spaulding:

(photo by Rufus Spaulding)

Though still weeks away from home, the Company is back in the homecountry for the next little while, after a pleasantly uneventful border crossing into British Columbia.

(photo by Becky Johnson)

The Company's reasons for being in Vancouver are twofold: a round table discussion of secret business with their contact at Little Mountain, and the gluttonous consumption of ridiculously tasty sushi at suspiciously low prices.

How to eat sushi in the Japanese tradition

A deeply rooted Japanese population and the abundance of salmon, tuna, prawns and crab fished off the B.C. coast have made Vancouver the only city in North America where sushi joints outnumber burger shacks three to one. This abundance, means restaurants are forever competing to outdo each other by offering better quality sushi at lower prices. The sashimi-crazed misanthropes have been banned from more than one all-you-can-eat establishment over the years.

If only the members of the Company could get over this city's apathetic mock-liberalism and conservative hippie snobbery.

* * *

FRISCO INFERNO...

by Erkuden Sakana, Company Secretary:

It's been another busy weekend for the men and women of the Misanthrope Specialty Co. Yesterday and today at Fort Mason were all-day affairs.

(photo by Matthew Wade Davis)

San Francisco marks the last of the big game craft fairs on the Company's summer itinerary. There is still another month of touring ahead, though, and the misanthropes were determined to lighten their load; freeing up some legroom for the long journey home.

(photo courtesy of Angelika)

Intent on riding itself of as much of its remaining inventory as possible, the Company hocked its wares to the shopping hordes like rabid costermongers. Luckily, this town remains as receptive as ever to what the misanthropes are pitching.

* * *

Once business at Renegade was over and done with, the Company found itself in a celebratory mood. Though there was still the matter of sitting down to todays Sunday protocols a well-deserved interlude was in order. After a quick show of hands, it was agreed that any further work should be preceded by the imbibing of silly cocktails at the Tonga Room.

(photo by Ted Mills)

The historic Fairmont Hotel once boasted a number of gimmick bars and restaurants; including a circus-themed cocktail lounge, and a merry-go-round bar. Today, only the Tonga Room tiki bar remains.

It's raining at the Tonga

Designed by one of MGM's set designers in 1945, this nautical wonderland features a floating stage and a fake thundersotrms. Rain pours down from concealed sprinklers every twenty minutes.

* * *

One drink lead to another and, seeing as the members were all assembled anyhow, the Company decided to hunker down where it sat, holding it's meeting at the tiki bar.

(portrait of Heywood by Reverend Aitor, Rufus Spaulding, Cottonwood Fields and an anonymous member)

One of the topics up for discussion was the The Misanthrope Specialty Co.'s taking over the reins of its subsidiary, the Unflattering Portrait Project.

With Aitor's eyeballs steadily disintegrating, and demand for Unflattering Portraits exceeding the amount of time he's able or willing to dedicate to the project, a proposal was put forth last week calling for the rest of the misanthropes to step up to the plate.

More like Reverend eye sore

Whether this is a temporary or indefinite measure has yet to be decided. In the meantime, the bleary-eyed Impresario spent the evening tutoring his peers in the fine art of unflattery. The goal is to preserve the integrity of the portraits' style and sensibilities whether they be drawn by the Reverend himself, the Company as a whole, or any one of its members.

Variations on a subject: Aitor's rendition of Matt Groening vs. Heywood and Erkuden's joint interpretation

To dispel any trepidation among those who have commissioned portraits on backorder, the Company assures that all portraits on Aitor's waiting list will be drawn by the Reverend himself. New commissions, however, may be taken over by the rest of the Company unless otherwise requested

* * *

I LOVE BUSEY...

Notes to Headquarters
from T-Bone, Company Bailiff:

"The deed is done. We handed Hell Hogs over to Gary and his goons last night. The matter's out of my hands now. Finally. Amen.

"I'd been sent detailed instructions on how the transaction was to be played out. I had to be go foot, unarmed, and place the film cans in a trunk between the two O's in the Hollywood sign. Cotton accompanied me part ways but it had been clearly stipulated I was supposed to arrive alone. I deviated from the established trails. We had the sense we were being watched from afar.

"I hadn't realized access to the sign itself restricted. Fenced off and closely monitored by security cameras. In order to deposit the reels in adherence to the plan I would have to scale the fence, on camera, in broad daylight, negotiating my way over razor wire. Gary must have known this. I didn't doubt it. My blood began to ache.

"All the same, I'd agreed to the job. And things looked like they might work out with the help of my puertoricans. I had a leg over, then the razor wire snagged my sock. It only got worse the more I worked to get unhooked. A voice barked at me over the security loudspeaker. I'd been spotted trespassing and I was stuck there sure the police were coming to take me off in chains.

"An audience of thicknecked goons emerged. Some in uniforms. All of them hooting, chucking, snapping photos with their telephones. Even the voice on the speaker was laughing at me. Gary and Jake were there too. Applauding. I wanted to set them all on fire."

* * *

IN GOAT WE THRUST...

Notes to Headquarters
from T-Bone, Company Bailiff:

(photo by Cottonwood Fields)

"We were making excellent time but the jar was full, thanks to a long day of nothing but coffee and watermelon. We pulled into a truck stop far past Tucumcari to take a leak, top off the water jug, splash some water on our faces.

"Le Pi-Pi Jar"

"There was a vending machine in the men's room. Not an uncommon fixture at truck stops and gas stations, but this one dispensed particularly colourful array of condoms, cologne and assorted performance enhancers. Imagine the kind of night a fistful of quarters can buy you.

(photo by Cottonwood Fields)

"The "Genies Delight" dispenser in particular caught my eye. Seventyfive cents buys you a shot at one of twelve different "politically incorrect novelties", so I called Cotton in. She loved it but immediately went into a feminist rant about the absence of such amenities in the ladies washroom. Apparently the only vending machines she encounters only offer perfume and menstrual supplies.

We never found out what the new "Bin Laden" condom is all about

"We pooled all our change together hoping to collect as many random surprise novelties as possible but the machine was either empty or not working or a dirty grift. We'd sunk two bucks and a quarter into it when a fourhundred-pound sow in a soiled cashier's smock busted into the washroom, with accusations of illicit activities. She refused to give us our money back. Instead, she threatened to call the police.

(photo by Cottonwood Fields)

"I manage to score some "Horny Goat Weed" while Cotton and the attendant were busy screaming insinuations about eachother's mothers. The packet contained two capsules which we gobbled pulling away from the truck stop. I didn't notice an increase in desire. Cotton complained about a spell of vomit burps for a a while."

* * *

WEST FOR SUCCESS...

by Erkuden Sakana, Company Secretary:

(photo by Erkuden Sakana)

The misanthropes awoke at the crack of noon, after a long and successful Saturday at the Shadow Art Fair. There was just enough time for a throughly overindulgent breakfast with friends at the Bomber, a heartily recommended purveyor for all your bacon and egg needs.
Then, bellies swelling with greasy bliss, the members shoved themselves back into their respective vehicles, leaving Michigan for Indiana.

(photo courtesy of www.interstate-guide.com)

This was as close as the Company has been to the homeland in quite some time and the roadsigns for the bridge to Canada prompted an unexpected pang of homesickness in some of the members. The pull of magnetic North is a strong one, but there are still many miles to go before the caravan runs full circle back to Toronto in September.

(The members' homesickness manifested in Home Sweet Home #7)

* * *

Lounging at Jerry Lee's (photo by Becky Johnson)

Back in Midwest, the Company's Indianapolis friends had once again prepared a space for the misanthropes to hold their protocols, meeting and making session. It is an absolute luxury to have such accommodating allies scattered across the continent, providing auxiliary workspace, housing, homecooked meals and sundry resources along the way. These fine upstanders have become vital in the viability of touring for the Misanthrope Specialty Co.

* * *


(a proposed course plotted out for the next couple of weeks)

The Company has been vacillating between the Eastern and Central time zones long enough. It's time to blaze through Mountain Time and into Pacific as the Misanthrope Specialty convoy moves West to deliver Screaming Hell Hogs Eat Shit and Die to it's California purchaser, as well as to make its fortune at Renegade Los Angeles and Renegade San Francisco.

* * *

(photo by Rufus Spaulding)

In related news, the Company has agreed to contribute to Renegade Handmade"s web log. Those Chicago-based mavens of craft want to run a "road to Renegade" series of posts, chronicling the cross-country trip to the Los Angeles show.

* * *

HOT TIME IN THE OLD BROWN TONIGHT...

by Erkuden Sakana, Company Secretary:
Chicago is calling. The Company is snaking its way North again, but not before stopping back in Louisville for a taste of hot brown -- a not so distant cousin, it would appear, of Pittsburgh's own turkey devonshire.

(Kentucky hot brown)

For the uninitiated, a hot brown is an open faced sandwich consisting of turkey, ham, tomatoes, pimento and shredded parmesan drowned in mornay sauce and topped off with bacon.

* * *

(photo by Reverend Aitor)

The misanthropes checked into the cheapest motel room they could find in the greater Louisville area for another Sunday meeting of protocols, tour planning and infighting before bedtime. A fair amount of time also had to be put into preparing merchandise for upcoming shows and store visits, as inventory has been decreasing steadily along the way.

A Party, Spoiled limited edition assembled print by the M.S.Co.

* * *

The final instalment in this season's Epistolary Subscription Service will be shipped out first thing Monday morning. Bowing to increasing demand, it was reluctantly decided this week that the number of available subscriptions for the coming season will be increased to ninety-nine.

portrait of the Company's beloved bailiff

Meanwhile, in an effort to tide the project's loyal followers over until service resumes in October the Company's Communications Officer will begin posting excerpts from T-Bone and Cotton's notes to Headquarters, here, on the web log.

(Route 66 map courtesy of playa.info )

The pair intends to break away from the main convoy after next week's congregation in Chicago. From there, they'll make the pilgrimage along their beloved Route 66 all the way to Los Angeles, where they are scheduled to deliver Screaming Hellhogs Eat Shit and Die to it's rightful owner.

* * *

TWISTER ACT...

by Erkuden Sakana, Company Secretary:

(The great Renegade deluge of 2008)

Company morale began to sink steadily in the days leading up to Renegade Brooklyn. The weekend weather forecast looked grim, and growing increasingly bleak as Saturdays drew nearer. Once again, one side of the Company vocally begrudged the other side's decision to partake in an outdoor event.

(photo by Becky Johnson)

Luckily the predicted two straight days of thunderstorms turned out to be little more than five torrential minutes this afternoon, followed by another brief moment of light sunshiny drizzle. Braced for much worse, the members made short work of battening down the hatches.

Once it became obvious that the rain would quickly pass and that the floating rumours of a tornado watch for the five boroughs began to appear exaggerated, tensions finally began to lift. Members were promptly dispatched to the Turkey's Nest -- a nearby establishment known for serving potent margaritas in large to-go cups -- to procure celebratory concoctions from the Company.

(photo of margarita travel cup courtesy of Marmie's Weblog)

* * *

In the evening the Company reunited at the new secret hideout after showering off what everyone had initially assumed to be suntans. It had been been discovered while packing up at the show that everything exposed to the MacCaren park air was now covered in a thin film of velvety bronze filth.


The Company sourly wiped park scum off its merchandise while conducting this weeks meeting.

* * *

Today's drawing session was inspired by the surprising number purportedly unacquainted yet mostly German-accented patrons who stopped by the Company's tent over the course of the weekend. They all enquired about the Company's now out of print comics.

(excerpt from "Time to Die" by the men and women of the Company)

Indeed, it's been a long time since the release of a Misanthrope Specialty Co. comic book. Improvising comics as a group gradually fell by the wayside over the past few years, for no reason in particular. This weekend's reminder stirred up enough nostalgia within the ranks to set the originally scheduled projects aside in favour of cooking up a new comic book.

(detail from "The Adventure of Quad Part 2" by the Misanthrope Specialty Co.)

The results of the evenings' doodling include a twelve-page sequel to The Adventure of Quad, the promising first chapter of a psychological eroto-thriller, dubbed Time To Die, and a hatful of other strips to be completed at next week's meeting.

* * *

MULTIPLE CRAB WOUNDS...

by Erkuden Sakana, Company Secretary;

Last night, while visiting the American Visionary Art Museum, the Misanthrope Specialty Co. was invited to spend the night in the impeccably curated home of Uncle Ted, a veritable patron saint of the arts.

Uncle Ted at work (photo courtesy of Sun-Times media)

After a somewhat rushed Company meeting, and knowing that conditions for future Sunday Sessions wouldn't always be ideal on the road, the opportunity to hold an auxiliary meeting and make art in such comfortable and inspiring surroundings was a luxury not to be passed up.

(photo by Becky Johnson)

* * *

No trip to Maryland is complete without the consumption of Chesapeake Bay blue crab in all its forms. And while steamed crabs and crab cakes might be the obvious choices while dining in Baltimore, the Company's Minister of Acquisitions was sure to stock up on Utz "The Crab Chip" potato chips before doubling back to Philadelphia.

(photo by Reverend Aitor)

This tasty, salty, spicy roadfood treat is worth the heartburn, and becomes increasingly harder to find the farther one ventures form the area.

* * *

BULLEIT PROOF...

by Erkuden Sakana, Company Secretary;

The misanthropes trickled into Baltimore over the course of the day, eventually coming together for another session of Sunday protocols, business and collaborative illustration.

(work in progress)

The lack of a private meeting place and the threat of rain forced the meeting into the Golden West Cafe; a Plan B venue the Company's Location Manager had previously scouted out and deemed appropriate due largely to their strict no-cellphone policy and to the availability of a mixological wonder dubbed the Bacon Bulleit.

This tasty little cocktail, consisting of bourbon, lemon juice, a hint of maple syrup and garnished with a strip of applewood smoked bacon proved to be a hands-down favourite.

* * *

Commissioned illustration for "Savoy Corpse Reviver" -- appearing in the next issue of Pilot Illustrated

Among the Company's sundry projects, the misanthropes are presently working on a series of illustrations commissioned to accompany one of the short stories in the upcoming edition of Pilot -- a Toronto-based literary journal.

* * *

SUBWAY OR THE HIGHWAY...

by Erkuden Sakana, Company Secretary;

By all accounts, misanthropes' whirlwind visit to Flour City was an enjoyable one.

Today the Company split up into factions, in a hurried dash to cross several tasks of the members' respective to-do lists during their few remaining hours in town.

While the Company's Chairman and Impresario were striking up a business deal with the Center at High Falls, some of the others set out to procure a sampling of another local delicacy, the garbage plate.

Though only Nick Tahou can lay claim to being its originator, and has trademarked the name, the celebrated local dish can be found at various eateries under a number of pseudonyms. Those in the Company who partook in the greasy taste test agreed Dogtown's junkyard plate was the tastier of the bunch; going to show that, even in matters of artery-clogging gluttony, the quality of ingredients counts.

* * *

(photo courtesy of Skip Holden)

Almost as exciting as the aforementioned gut bomb was Lydia and Cotton's discovery of Rochester's long-abandoned subway system. Unfortunately, the time to push off arrived before they could carry out a thorough examination of the subterranean passageways, but the Company's predeliction for damp tunnels suggest that the Misanthrope Specialty Co. will likely return for a closer look sooner than later.

* * *


"Jerks at the Bar" 1 and 2

Later, after putting in a few hours on the road, the Company reconvened in Harrisbug, PA for a slightly truncated Sunday session of business and collaborative drawing.

(photo courtesy of the Subway Cafe)

The meeting was held at the olde-timey Subway Café, on the recommendation of some fellow vagrants Tallulah encountered at the Pennsylvania Welcome Centre. It seemed appropriate enough a location, in keeping with the theme of the day's urban exploration and given the fact that beer there may be purchased by the fishbowl.

* * *