We are thrilled to present the following action shots of Issue 49.3, brought to us, words and all, by Operative Tyler Gobble:
“My Time With A Little Piece of Rad Tadd on My Back”
This rad Tadd poem stuck to me during my last weekend in Indiana. Tadd lived in Indiana when he was a younger Tadd. Did you know that? Me, I just moved to Austin, Texas, after almost 25 years of Hoosier fun. My galpal Layne starts grad school at UT next week or something. I’m in the library right now, pretending to be a freshman. Cal McGraw, aquatic equestrianism major, in case anyone asks. Anyhow, I wore this as I bustled about central Indiana that final weekend, saying buh-byes and getting amped up for the move. Here’s the story of that. I call it “My Time With A Little Piece of Rad Tadd on my Back”:
First step of being a good operative is always finding some pants to wear. Here I am finding some pants to wear.
Next step is buying some beer. That’s probably not true, but what do I know? I’m only a freshman!
My dad prefers Bud Light. I bought him a bunch of Bud Light, though not all those cases you see in the picture. That’d be crazy! It was for my going-away party. My parents are really nice people (hi mom! hi dad!) and grilled up a bunch of burgers and unthawed a bunch of pre-baked cookies and let people who like me hang out all night and play cornhole and drink beer. My mom even gave two sacks of leftovers to my friend Turner! Wow, mom!
My mom kept asking me to explain Safety Pin Review and let her friends read the poem. Then, they’d say, “I don’t get it. Who’s bones are they?” And my mom would say, “Only Tyler, am I right?!” (She wasn’t right. There are many cool operatives!)
I’ve never been the one to leave. It’s weird being the one to leave. A necessary step is hugging people goodbye. In the hat, that’s my friend, Davis. Davis didn’t know I had the patch on so he just thought Layne was taking pictures of me hugging dudes, which she’d totally do. Stop being a weirdo, Layne!
I hugged Davis goodbye at the beginning of the summer because he moved to Chicago, but he didn’t like it much so he came back. And then, I left. What a butthead!
I had to buy some new clothes because my medium tanks are getting too small on me and my shorts (I realized during the taking of this picture, I haven’t bought new shorts since freshman year of high school!) are starting to fall apart. I needed to make a good impression as a (fake) incoming UT freshman. I bought two pairs of Tony Hawk cargo skate shorts and two tanks (one has a giant shark on it and the other is bright orange and says BEEF CAKE), in case you wanted to know.
This dark box is a strip club. I needed to break in my BEEF CAKE tank (after a careful transfer of the patch), so we went to Muncie’s strip club, Joker’s Wild.
It wasn’t weird at all! The bouncer has been in two UFC pay-per-view fights and has been hit in the head with a 2×4 (though that was in the parking lot of Joker’s, not a ring). He read the poem at least twice. He called me “an intelligent motherfucker.” Thank you, bouncer badass guy, but Tadd is the intelligent motherfucker!
One of the strippers asked me what a BEEF CAKE was. I said, I guess we’ll find out. That was the weirdest part. Who doesn’t know what a BEEF CAKE is?
This is how I say goodbye to my friend Alina, by picking out a motorcycle for me. I chose this one because of the way the green lights accentuate the flame paint job. I rode it down to Texas. I was wearing my shark tank top with the poem pinned on. People got into wrecks reading the poem off my hog-hustling back. That seems like a great way to end this story, am I right Tadd?
Here’s a little bonus: I call it “Thumbs Up Goodbye.”
We love you. See you all soon.