Who The Hell Dresses Us When We’re Small, And Why Isn’t There A Line-Judge?

Seriously.

I had a few moments after a pretty busy Thanksgiving Weekend to sit down and do nothing, so I took that time and flipped through about two hundred photographs from my childhood. I’d say based off of the dates stamped on the edges of the earliest photos, the time line starts around 1972, which would make me at least one (if not one and a half ),and range up to about two months ago.

There were a few common “themes” that I noticed in these photographs over the full 37 years that they encompass.

1. It seems that starting at a very young age I wanted nothing more than to be a Cowboy.
2. Your parents take pictures of you doing the craziest shit, and sometimes even pose you so that the angle and lighting is just right as to show off how big of an idiot you really are.
3. No one, and I mean no one, ever so much as looked at as you ran out the door for a day of playing. Either that, or there were different Dress Codes for Northern Indiana in the ’70s.

Below you will find some pictures. Pictures of me, Jimmy Buttcheeks. They will run the gamete from the “Cute Little Chubby Baby” era, to the “Awkward Teenager Trying to Find Myself” stage, on through the “Fuck You, I’m Twenty Now and I Can Dress Myself” angst era, and on to the “I’m Almost 40 and Completely Washed Up You’re Lucky I Even Have On Pants” finale.

So here’s the fun part for all six of my loyal Readers!

Each photograph will have a number attached to it. It is your job, fine reader, to take your favorite picture of me and in the “comments” section of this blog, write your own caption for what ever number picture that you feel like!!!

That’s right! You get to caption any picture in this blog post that you want!!!

Will there be a winner??? You bet your sweet ass there will be!!!

Who will be the Judge??? I will, you WingNut… It’s my Blog Post afterall!

What will I win??? Here’s what you’ll win! Not only will you get the smug satisfaction of knowing that I think you’re funnier than the other 5 Readers of my blog post, You’ll also win an original Jimmy Buttcheeks pin(button) to put on your favorite coat, hat, scarf, or child!!!

But that’s not all!!! You’ll also receive a GalacticRobot pull tab that hooks to the zipper of your favorite coat, purse, handbag, or child!!!

So… grab yourself a Pepsi over crushed ice, hot cup of cocoa, or what ever the hell it is that you feel like drinking right about now and join me on a Trip Down Memory Lane of Shitty Fashion and Bad Hair Cuts! Won’t you???

Enjoy!

Picture 1. You can see where this all started, can’t you??? That’s my Dad. I would assume at that young age he still loved me. I mean after all, I hadn’t been around long enough to be that big of a pain in his ass, yet still… there he is, dressing me. In God knows what.I blame my shitty fashion sense (or lack there of) on him!

As you can see in Picture 2, I tried to rebel against my Dads keen sense of style. Here, I opt for what I would guess is my big brothers T-shirt or maybe it’s my night-shirt. Either way, they were one in the same… but that’s life growing up poor. I chose to accessorize this shirt with some Ray Charles/Plasticman type glasses. Standing on the linoleum floor in our old kitchen really sets it all off.

In Picture 3, I have no fucking clue what I’m wearing. I’d say it’s a bathrobe with a belt from a flannel night robe, cinched at the nipples to ensure that it doesn’t fall off. Next it looks like I’m wearing some type of hand-made slipper-socks. But then again, they could have been my mittens… you just never know. Finally, we top it off (literally) with, a… Kippah???? Hell I don’t know!

Moving along… In Picture 4 we find myself (Superman), flanked by my little brother (very front, Captain America) and two of my cousins. Superman UnderRoos. This picture needs no explanation, It’s only here to prove my point of the evil poses that our parents would make us do. I actually blame my Aunt or Grandma for this one. I seriously don’t think my Mom would have let this shit slide!

Lets bump up in age, shall we??? In Picture 5 I’d guess I must be nine. If my memory serves me correctly, I’d guess that we’re posing for our first day of school-waiting-for-the-bus- pictures. Yes… this is me going to school for the first time in California. You are correct… that is a silver belt buckle and you bet your sweet ass it has a turquoise inset. And had I known the ass beatings that I’d soon be taking for this outfit, I wouldn’t be looking so damn cocky!

What??? Did I hear you correctly??? There is no way I have a picture of me that’s gayer than Picture 5??? Well get a load of Picture 6!!! Yep! Red tie to match my red belt! I don’t have this ensemble any more as when I got older and started drinking I’d confuse the belt for the tie every time. (and no… my Mom didn’t make me strike that pose… I came up with it on my own!)

Come on, Man! Everyone was wearing the LeTigre shirts and Members Only jackets in 1983!!! Just not with faded 501′s and a Team Yamaha ball cap. You can tell how old this photo is based off of the color of the hat. Yes Kiddies… back in the day, Yamaha motocross bikes used to be yellow and black. And our version of Ricky Carmichael was a guy named Bob Hannah. Bob Hanna would have approved of this outfit. This, my Readers, is Picture 7!!!

Mother F@cker, say what???!!! You’re goddamned right I’m rocking a mullet!!! And if you’re a girl looking at this, it’s making you hot! If you’re a guy looking at this, it’s making you jealous!!! Don’t deny the power of the 10/90!!! Picture 8. Recognize!

It’s a well-known fact that me and brother Gabe (right) went on to form a pretty tight little three-piece punk rock band with the help of his then girlfriend, now wife, on the drums. But what a lot of people don’t know is that our Boy Band prior to that failed miserably. Thanksgiving Day, going to dinner with my parents. Don’t know exactly how old I am in this picture, but lets say 19 or 20. Picture 9. Stop staring at my package. Thank you.

Picture 10. At about 22 years of age, I hit this angry streak. Here I am in the Chevron Refinery in Richmond California. Looks like a chalkboard that I’m standing next to, but it’s a brand new pressure vessel that I was inspecting before my brother-in-law interrupted me to take this picture. Surprised I got to work that day with all of that scruff on my chin. Oh!!! Check that tiny earring in my left ear!! I’m a bad ass!!!

Picture 11. I had to be about 36 when this baby hit the streets. Note the cowboy hat and wife beater under shirt. This is right around the time I started forgetting my pants.

Picture 12 shows me reverting back to my old days. With no Ray Charles/Plasticman glasses to be found, I settled for late ’60s Elvis Shades. I had priced out a Members Only jacket, but those suckers are pretty expensive these days so I bought a 12 pack of PBR and made the one that I’m wearing here while drinking it.

Picture 13. We’ll wrap it up with this one here just for the simple fact that I’m tired of doing this shit tonight and want to go to bed! Let me see… definitely 38 in this picture. Looks like I just dyed my hair. Not much on the fashion side, but you all should know this. That is a Ben Davis, 1/2 zip work shirt. I cut the sleeves off of it and fashioned it into a knock off version of the karate-coat-thing that John Kreese was wearing in the Karate Kid. Don’t know who the hell John Kreese is??? Then feast your eyes on picture 14.

Now I think you know who the hell I’m talking about! There is no mercy in this mans dojo.

Okay, Readers!!! Thanks for joining me on the mini-trip down memory lane!!!

Now… pick your favorite picture, and write a funny caption in the comments section! One so funny, that it would make even Sensei Kreese giggle!

“Do you have a problem with that?”