I’m Working for an Illegal Gnome Trade Cartel?!?!

I showed to up to the office this morning, bright and cheery as usual, and ready dive into my exciting day of accounts payable and receivable. (Receivables are my favorite, in case you were curious).

Just as I was finishing my third cup of El Cheapo coffee, my boss, Lumbergh, saunters over to my desk and says he has a favor to ask me. Uh oh. Favors rarely are good. He said that Destiny and Lil’ John in the customer service department had both called in sick. He seemed to imply that there were some inappropriate relations between them, but I’m not here to spread gossip so I let that slide in one ear and out the other.

I’ve never really been good at dealing with customers, but today I rose to the challenge and plopped on a headset. My telephone rang within seconds of aforementioned headset plopment.

Me: Good morning! IGT Industries, this is Phillip. how may I help you?

Asshole: Um, well you can start by giving me my money back for this piece of shit order you idiots sent me.

Me: I sense that you are concerned. May I have your customer account number, please?

Asshole: I don’t know what my damn number is. Just look it up for me. And then flip to page 3 of your stupid catalog so you know what the hell I’m talking about.

Me: Okay Sir, I see that your customer account number is 0985817284916573279781279861901928308120975328R. Now if you will hold for just a brief moment, I will grab a copy of our latest catalog . I do apologize, I am actually the accountant for IGT Industries and just helping out with some customer service calls today because a couple co-workers are out sick.

Asshole: Whatever. Fine. I’ll hold. But your hold music had better not suck.

I went over to Lumbergh’s office to see if he had a copy of the catalog so I could try to understand what this guy’s complaint was about. Lumbergh wasn’t in his office but I saw a stack of catalogs on the corner of his desk. I glanced over my shoulder to make sure now one was watching, snagged one, and slipped out the door and back to my cubicle.

Before turning back on the headset, I opened up the catalog to page 3 and YOU WILL NEVER BELIEVE WHAT I FOUND!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Gnomes for sale? WHAT??????????? How is this even legal? It’s not legal!

I’ve been working for an illegal gnome trade cartel and i didn’t even know it?!?

During the past four years in my accounting office, I simply wrote checks, paid bills, and put numbers into spreadsheets. I never really though to ask anyone what the bills were for or how the company made its money. But I NEVER would have thought that a company owned and run by gnomes would be illegally selling gnomes! This is preposterous.

I mean take a look at that page. Who determined the price structure? One gnome climbing a tree only costs $12.00! His life is surely worth more than $12.00, I guarantee you that!

I flipped to page 5 of the catalog only to find more atrocities. Gnomes at discounted sales prices! Even girl gnomes for sale! That’s right….GIRL GNOMES!

I just can’t believe I’ve been bamboozled into working for such an awful corporation for all these years and never had a clue. I’m so angry that I don’t know what to do. I’m not picking the headset back up and talking to that asshole again though, that’s for sure.

I know in my heart that I need to do the right thing and confront Lumbergh about my new-found knowledge of our company. Although the salary is pretty sweet, there’s no way my conscience will allow me to continue working here.

My biggest concern at this point is for my own personal safety . I’ve seen way too many 90’s Mexican drug movies where those involved with the cartel are never allowed to get our alive. They know too much! They are a liability for the entire illegal industry!

I know too much! I am a liability!

What do I do? What do I do? What do I do? Ahhhhhhhhhhhh!!!!

Phillip The Gnome

A Discovery of Korean Exorcism Masks In Wyoming

I’m just the fiddler. So what do I know? Well. Let me tell you one thing I do know. Our band hasn’t gotten any gigs in quite quite some time now.

We’ve just been driving around in the desert and McCartney won’t even tell us where we’re headed. You know what I think? Whatever, I’m going to tell you anyway. Well I think, he doesn’t even know where we’re headed!

This morning, we took a piss top in some shithole town, Wamsutter, Wyoming…Population: 273.


I took this shot as I relieved my bladder on the train tracks.

The other band mates and I were all pretty cranky after being cooped up in the tour van for so long. So we decided to go on a hike and stretch our little gnome legs.

Starr and I took the lead and walked between those crappy looking buildings to see what was on the other side. Whole lots of nothingness! I took off in a sprint into the nothingness, threw my suit jacket into the dirt, and kicked off my boots. The wind blowing through my beard felt awesome. The freedom I felt being outside of that van and away from the other band mates felt even more awesome.

Everything was awesome….until I tripped and fell on my face. I think my baby toe might be broken, but I didn’t have time to tend to a toe. There were more important matters at hand….the thing that caused me to trip and fall.

McCartney, Starr, and Lennon heard my yelp and caught up to me. But they couldn’t even find the words to ask me if I was okay. They were speechless, because this is what they saw directly in front of me.

Lying right there in the dirt, were a set of Korean exorcism masks. What the hell had we just stumbled upon?!

As we looked closer, we could see that one of the masks was called the Yangban Mask and the other was called the Bunae Mask. All I knew is that they were creepy as shit and I wanted to get as far away from them as gnomely possible.

Starr whipped out his smart phone and did a quick Google search. According to the Interweb, the Yangban mask represents the ‘aristocrat’. The character looks rather jolly, but sometimes has people flogged to death if they insult him. Whoa. Don’t wanna mess with that dude.

Wait. Come to think of it, he kinda sounds like McCartney.

The Interweb also told us that the Bunae Mask represents the ‘flirtateous woman’. Well hey there, little lady. I might not mind messing with you if you put a bag over that weirdo face you got going on.

Wait. Come to think of it, she kinda sounds like that little slut, Roxy, who’s still tagging along on the tour bus for some reason.

We looked around at the nothingness around us and could not come up with any explanation why these freakish things were buried in the dirt of Wyoming countryside. Rather than ponder this thought too much further, we made a general consensus to get the hell outta there and get back to the van.

I wonder if exorcisms really do take place out there with those masks. And if McCartney and Roxy have masks that reflect their characters, does that mean Starr, Lennon, and I have masks out there somewhere too?

I guess I’ll never know, but I like to think that I have a creepy exorcism mask, made just for me, lying in the dirt somewhere and getting tripped over.

안녕히 가세요 (an-nyung-hi ka-se-yo),

Harrison The Gnome and Fiddler for Amish Meth Lab

Sheldon’s Photo Blog of Yosemite, Gnome Homes, and San Francisco

I have finally (and reluctantly) returned back to The Gnome Abode from my amazing trip to California. I could see myself taking up residence in another gnome village out there someday. But alas, I have some loose ends to tie up back on the home front first.

I never leave home without my travel journal. However, writing gets to be a pain in the ass. Therefore, I just had strangers take pictures at various points along my journey!

Strangers love taking pictures of gnomes! We’re so photogenic! Well except that one guy who threatened to behead my brother. I don’t want talk about it.

Airplanes are awesome!

Do you know why airplanes are awesome? Because you can get drunk on them! Hellooooo, Jack Daniels and Diet Coke! Pour me another, Miss (I wish you were hot) Flight Attendant!

Look at how far I freaking hiked! This is on path of the Upper Yosemite Falls Trail. Sometimes we all need to get lost in the mountains to feel how small we really are in this world.

I visited one of my very best friends in Auburn, Liz, owner of Gnome Habitat USA!


There were thousands upon thousands of gnomes here. It was so overwhelming. I was invited to afternoon tea in this little cottage on the outskirts of the habitat.

Then I visited one of my other best friends in Santa Rosa, Jean, owner of Gnome Man’s Land!


Most of the time I was there, Jean was trying to convince her gnomes that it really was springtime and they should go out in the yard and get to work. It was only about 50 degrees that day, so I can’t say I really blame them. I had  a lovely stopped by this tree house for a smoke break with some of the nearby residents.

Then I headed back to San Francisco for some beach time. It was chilly, but the sunsets were gorgeous. I think I look quite stunning in this light, don’t you? Perhaps this will be my next Match.com profile pic.

On my last day in Cali, I enjoyed a relaxing hike around the San Francisco Bay. Those rocks out in the water looked so climb-able and I was tempted to go for a swim. But then I recalled a recent Dateline NBC episode that featured the Top Ten Gnome Deaths of the Modern World. Three of the top ten were due to drowning. Better safe than sorry, as Grandgnomma always used to say.

Signing off until my next adventure,

Sheldon The Gnome


Our first romantic getaway to Napa Valley <3 <3 <3

After our first date a few weeks ago, I played it kind of cool with Jerry. I let him initiate the first text message each morning and pretended that I had other plans one out of three times that he would ask me out for dinner.

However, I quickly discovered that he’s far too dumb to catch on to my mind games so I gave up on all that.

Jerry took me by complete surprise  last week when he invited me to temporarily escape The Gnome Abode for a weekend getaway. I was even more surprised when he suggested taking a trip to Napa Valley. All I’ve ever seen him drink is Miller Lite out of dented cans. He must REALLY be trying to impress me. Rightfully so. Hmmph.

This was also the day I learned that Jerry is a licensed pilot and has his own private jet. How hot is that?! BONUS POINTS, JERRY!

We landed abruptly in a field full of cows somewhere in the northern California countryside. I think we only knocked over a couple cows, but I dare not look so I can’t really be sure.

We arrived at the Jarvis Winery (http://jarviswines.com/) just in time for our 2:30 tour. Our tour guide was simply adorable. He kept making eye contact me with through his sophosticated black-rimmed glasses. Much to my disappointment, Jerry never seemed to notice. Arrgh! He’s so oblivious!

The vineyards outside looked to be in perfect condition and the cave cellar inside had hundreds of barrels of aging wine. A cascading waterfall flowed inside the cave and beautiful crystal sculptures lined the hallways. I could get used to living in a place like this. (Hint hint Jerry, if you’re reading this. But I’m sure you wouldn’t pick up on the hint anyway so WHATEVER.)

The tasting session was simply magnificent as well. I wrote down all of my tasting notes for future reference as our guide explained the intricate processes that went into each wine. When I looked over Jerry’s tasting notes page, there were doodles of cows and stick figures all over his page. Are you kidding me?!  I noticed that he wasn’t spitting out his samples after each taste and that he was also starting to slur his words.  When I asked him if he preferred the Cabernet Franc or the Petit Verdot, his answer was “Yummy”.

Before he started to embarrass me any further, I decided it was time to leave the winery and travel to whichever overpriced restaurant that Jerry had surely made us dinner reservations at. But before we left, I made sure he picked up a bottle of my favorite $195 Merlot. Our adorable guide was more than happy to assist Jerry with his purchase. 

Aside from some heavy necking and petting behind some vines on the way back to the jet, I can’t say that our trip to the winery was necessarily “romantic”. But I definitely give Jerry an A- for effort for planning our first trip together.

And at least he got us drunk. I always seem to like him a little more after a couple glasses of my favorite Merlot.


Tabitha, Future Queen of the Gnomes