Dewey in repose

by the Monitors

So I realized that I hadn't sent out the few pictures I had of Dewey. One of them will, unfortunately, never be distributed since it could interfere with several individuals' career plans. To be brief here they are:

1) A final, gross physical salute to all that has characterized our time at the Dewey beach house. An important, and probably overdue, homage and metaphor to the depraved morality that has been gradually sown into the very foundation of the house itself; particularly the patio and several of the beds... To those who need a refresher, the stuffed animal horse came to us as if a gift from the drug gods, to torture and deface it as we saw fit. Quickly, it was thrown into the pool stained yellow with beer and strewn with debris. Slightly before nightfall, it was easily mistaken by passerbys for a drowned housecat. Before departing for the final night of bar drinking, the drowned horse-cat was mounted on the lamppost outside the house as a warning to any children and vacationing ex-Vietcong military to steer clear of this house of the damned. As the final morning came, the usual half-assed cleanup effort offered by everyone resulted in several different wanderings of attention. Most significantly, a well-armed Pete pulled out a 6-inch bowie knife and slit the horse-cat’s throat, which was then dangling by its feet on the lamppost. It wasn’t long before the poor animal’s head was completely severed and then mounted on the tip of the post; its body accompanying it, only separately mounted. Possibly the most gruesome display of cultural ignorance ever at the Dewey beach house.

2) This picture (below)accurately portrays the atmosphere felt on the last day of Dewey. Many describe the feeling as the same as the day after Christmas when we were younger. A featureless sky hangs above the house and the outdoor trashcan is full of garbage, predominantly beer cans and Grotto boxes, long before the house is even emptied of trash. Were there a picture of everyone inside, you would note the absence of bro, sparks, fern, radebaugh, and snyder, always the first to leave before any real cleanup is done. This leaves an embittered Kevin for the ride home in my car every year; and a phased out nick, erm, and pete to pick up random items on the floor and drop them back down in a different location after realizing they don’t know what to do with them, and generally wander aimlessly around as Kevin scrubs the kitchen floor.

3) Just what I described (above, middle)
4) The Sunrise breakfast nook and diner (left). The hidden location of four clandestine late night and early morning dining missions. Eat it, Kevin.

Take note that this house no longer exists. The evil and abject depravity it has so openly embraced is all but erased, which leaves us but with a single option: we must return. Something so wicked is not so easily utterly destroyed. Though it no longer exists physically, our spirits are surely woven into the tapestry of history, and future history, of the town of Dewey.

Cuz I’m a cowboy
On a steel horse I ride
And I’m wanted (WANTED!)
Dead or alive.