listen to this while you read along



Hi, my name is digit. Im the cute one on the left. I want to tell you a story...

This one began like most good stories, with a secret code, a shovel... I mean spoons, and dirt... oh, and a blow up doll... key chain that is. When my partner and I thought of secrets, we thought of treasure. What is better than secret buried treasure?

So the first thing we had to do was find the all important code. After intensive googleology and wiki-to and wiki-fro, we choose pigpen. Besides being pleasing to the eye, the story goes, that a union prisoner during the civil war created it to communicate with his friends on the outside. ooo's and aaa's right?! its also known to be a freemason code. what better way to monkeywrench the tedium of everyday capitalist society than with masonic code?!

Now, where does one put psychogeographical bootie in this day and age? The redwoods outside the deyoung seemed a fitting place. I wanted to put the map of sorts in a Secret deodorant dispenser in a generic department store, for i thought that knee slappingly funny, for linguistical reasons. But we settled on a box of hair color. Plenty of room for juicy maps. While we wanted the every-person to acquire the map, we choose Splat hair color, for we reasoned the more wild-hair-colorist would follow the adventure from code to dirt.

My partner in crime, Indexter (the yobbo on the right), believing me to be full of crap, urged that we should pluck some gems from our personal collection in the creation of treasure. He arrived with a blowup doll key chain (probably the coolest key chain ever, if not the kinkiest), and a stylish Asian ornament. I added a pig tattoo, a quote-tastick magnet, and a trusty plastic kazoo. Indexter, can't play the kazoo, but he laughs like that wheezing hobo, whiskey Pete. Anyways, this is obviously amazing treasure. the lucky seeker will most likely be besides themselves with such abundance.