WHYNATTE

So here I am in mystical Santa Cruz, CA, for a weekend vacation with old friends. The guys are at the beach, Sari is hard at work polishing some crystals, and I’m putting the finishing touches on a few dream catchers that I’ve been working on. Really, it’s just a typical Saturday afternoon in Santa Cruz.

And just when I’m about to tie the peacock feathers onto the last of the dream catchers, I get this stunner of a photo in my inbox. Goddamn, I suppose that the arts and crafts will have to take to the back burner for a minute while I get this photo posted to the site.

I’m not sure what kind of dog faces those girls have on their shirts, but they sure do look aggressive. I have never seen a dog with so many sharp teeth. A beaver yes, but never a god. The gal in the middle is wearing a Whynatte shirt, which makes her look sensual and tender. I think I will add this little hot rod to my list of “girls that I would like to spoon.”

Okay, so we can all admit that when used as a recreational drug, horse tranquilizers make for good edgy fun. Especially when combined with a late night gondola ride through Steamboat Springs, CO. However, if Steamboat Springs is too far out of the way, or you aren’t affluent enough to have your own gondola, why not just try the local bars and clubs of Washington, DC?

Disclaimer: Whynatte does not condone the frequent recreational use of horse tranquilizers. As with all illicit barbiturates, moderation is key. Eat too many, and you’ll end up trapped in a world of smiles and meaningless repetition:

Wearing her diamond studded Whynatte shorts, Ja-Shin waits patiently with the crowd for the magical unicorn to come out of its magical unicorn house:

Do like I just did: Print out an 8×10 of this photo, stare incredibly close at it, and for at least thirty minutes, preferably while in the shower, and you can see the word “Whynatte” written across the back of her shorts. Indeed, geese are fascinating creatures:

Despite the dropping mercury, it’s getting hotter and hotter as the official dropping of the Whynatte Latte approaches in less than a fortnight. If you want my honest opinion, it’s starting to feel like a Choctaw sweat lodge around here. But maybe that’s just the CVS brand NyQuil that I just threw back that’s making me feel a little flush. It’s making me feel so sleepy, and perhaps I should change my name to Mordecai and get it over with.

Regardless, the Whynatte Latte is already starting to make appearances at bars around Atlanta. Take this past Friday night, when the Whynatte Latte cruised through the Darkhorse Tavern like a poisoned dart blown from a rod of bamboo in the cool October air. It’s safe to say that a few bystanders caught a random dart to the neck.

Speaking of the illegal breeding of poison dart frogs, Lucy appears to be quite pleased with her first go around with the new Whynatte Latte:

What does the future of latte look like? See below:

What does the future of pensive photos of Matt drinking Whynattes look like? See below:

I imagine that the bed at the Days Inn in Mountain Grove, MO are approximately as comfortable as I it would be to sleep naked, covered in honey, and strapped to a plank of plywood covered in carpenter ants. Which is to say that I would have rather used an adult porcupine as a pillow than the one provided by the hotel.

But such was the scene for the first Whynattes ever prepared using our soon-to-be-launched product, the Whynatte Latte. Earlier that day, the first cases rolled off the assembly line, and it wasn’t long before we were dropping shots of Jager into them. High on life from the joy of finally having our own product, we proceeded to chase each other around the parking lot with wet rags, fashioned makeshift shanks from the hotel toothbrushes, and hid out in the adjoining Subway parking lot until daybreak.

Ever wonder what the future of latte drinking looks like? Here you go:

You might say that we’ve been busy putting the “homo” into the “homogenization” out here in Cabool, Missouri. Let’s just say that we didn’t come all the way to Cabool for the nightlife.

There is something very dairy going on here:

I don’t know if this happens to you on a regular basis, but I keep finding planks of wood floating in the lake near my house, carved out in the form of the Virgin Mary. What’s more, and I don’t know if it’s just me, but I keep coming back to my crib to find the aforementioned plank glowing brightly and floating in mid air, while my everyone in my neighborhood stands around the house screaming in awe. Meanwhile, I’m just trying to eat my beef jerky in the peace and calm of my home. I didn’t ask for all of this attention, especially from a ratty piece of driftwood.

Which brings me to this photo of Claudia, standing in front of Our Lady of the Rosary of Chiquinquirá Basilica in her Whynatte shirt. Claudia took this photo in Venezuela, which is one of the best place on earth to catch the business end of a rusty shiv. Anyway, if you read over the story of this particular miracle, it bears striking resemblance to the shit that keeps happening in my day to day life.

I wonder if Claudia makes her own beef jerky? If so, I sure would like to try some of it:

The story behind these photos is best told by Kate, the slinky blonde in the photos below:

“Lynsey & I went hiking at Tent Rocks in Santa Fe last weekend, wearing our matching Whynatte shirts, of course. I had packed both of mine because I wear these things more often than I wear my own skin…! That meant I could lend one to her, as she was jonesing for one (for obvious reasons). Anyway, as we got towards the top of the 630 foot ascent, the sun came out and we got very hot. Lynsey took off her Whynatte shirt just as a brisk wind blew. The shirt went flying out of her hand, off a cliff, never to be seen again…so we thought. As we descended Tent Rocks an hour later, we came upon the shirt, blowing in the wind on a barren tree sprouting from the desert sand. A Parks Dept. arrow pointed to it, as if to tell all hikers/birds/dogs/wildlife who passed it, ‘DRINK WHYNATTE!’”

So there you have it. The moral of the story is twofold:

1) Brad Johnson is a terrible quarterback.
2) When you lose your shirt, have faith, because it may not be lost after all.

Here are the girls, both clad in their matching Whynatte shirts. This was prior to Lynsey’s shirt getting blown off the cliff:

While Lynsey searches for her lost shirt, Kate keeps a keen eye out for snakes and gypsies:

Lynsey looks out into the abyss, asking herself, “Where in the world is my Whynatte shirt?” If it had been my Whynatte shirt that went over the edge, I would have thrown myself off after it.

Kate warned Lynsey to use the restroom before they got to Tent Rocks:

Let’s go back to that part of the story that talks about how “Lynsey took off her shirt” and “we got things all hot and started wrestling in the tent.”

Much like that time my friend James told me that he’d caught a live cobra in his shed, and it turned out to be a ruse to lure me into a pit that he’d dug out and filled with yogurt in front of the entrance to the aforementioned shed, I thought that this story about the lost and found Whynatte shirt was equally fabricated.

Looks like I was wrong:

So now I have to figure out where I can get a vat of lavender oil large enough to accommodate two Whynatte models. What the fuck am I going to do with the solo vat that I just had installed in our office?

Have you ever thrown a party, and not remembered anything about it? I have. In fact it happened to me less than a week ago. Apparently, I helped to throw a large party featuring three live bands and $5 Whynattes, but I may as well have been rock climbing with Bobby Bonilla in Yosemite National Park. In other words, I was completely off the reservation.

I don’t know what the hell is going on here, but I don’t think I was pistol whipped last weekend at Lenny’s Bar. However, I look at these photos and have no recollection of nearly any of this, so I may have been pistol whipped last weekend at Lenny’s Bar. Who the fuck is Lenny anyhow?

The boys of Playground Rivals looking smart in their Whynatte shirts:

I’m pretty sure that this fellow knows who Lenny is:

These girls are lovely:

Tim’s jacket it is lovely:

Jennifer thought that she was coming by Whynatte’s international headquarters to audition for a role in our up and coming film How to Lose a Squid in 40 Days. She had eagerly responded to the casting call that we had posted in the Crustacean Times, thinking that this might just be the break she had been looking for. Like many of the girls that we shuttle through our office, Jennifer was too young and naive to know any better.

Next thing you know, she’s parked on the couch drinking Whynattes. This could be your daughter:

There are only two different kinds of ticks that I like: The ticks that suck the blood from my doberman, and the ticks of a clock that count down the seconds remaining until the Whynatte Latte rolls off of the assembly line in Springfield, MO. Okay, maybe I kind of like deer ticks also, but I’m sort of undecided on that particular genus.

Where am I going with this multi-pronged tick rant? I’m going straight back to the front page of this website, Right Here. There is a clock ticking down the days until your entire family perishes in a terrible fire.

JUST KIDDING! This clock is actually ticking down the days until the Whynatte Latte is ready to roll. And by roll, we mean that we are going to roll these lattes off the assembly line harder than my ex-girlfriend’s cousin Daman rolled at that Harmony SF rave back in ‘99. Want to know how long it’s going to be until the latte is available for sale? Check the time clock.

October 23rd, 2008, it’s going down. We will bring the production to you live from Cabool, MO. Cabool: The latte capital of the world.

Whynatte stepped up to the streets at our Playground Rivalry Party at Lenny’s Bar on Friday night. The Bands were rocking, the Latte was flowing, and the Squids were squirming. We’ll wet your whistle with a few photos from the event below, with more to come shortly. We would like to extend our gratitude to all of you that came out to support us, as well as all three of the phenomenal bands, Renegade Jane, Playground Rivals, and Rantings of Eva, that performed.

Our intern, Andy, made sure to pick out a special black and white dress for the occassion:

There wasn’t a dry eye in the building when Tim, from Playground Rivals, and Grandma Gertrude Latte performed a riveting rendition of I Got You Babe:

Tonight is music party night at Lenny’s Bar.

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This morning, while debating between jasmine and lavender oil for my weekly full body massage at the hands of my intern, it occurred to me that I have never posted any photos of Abraham Lincoln on this blog.

So, to ameliorate this Abrahamless situation I present you with this little gem (notice the Whynatte hoodie, soon to be on sale again at the Whynatte store):