I am tiny dog.

Tiny dog is a blog about things that do not especially matter, like Target, taco sauce packets, and rubber infants. You may also find misguided art projects, reviews, embarassingly chronicled collections, novel excerpts, fanboy pages, and defunct reader letters in its archives. Aptly, its tagline was once "Bringing you random content value since 2001."

Tiny dog is not particularly a blog about me, although my name is tiny dog, and I am responsible for its existence. The infants at right may or may not be real. I have no comment about whether either one is mine.

History

Tiny dog has its ancestral origins in the print world, and was once a thoroughly ridiculous print 'zine called Uberhoot that enjoyed a 5 1/2 issue run in the mid 90's. It then crawled its way online as The Hall of Heads, named after the great They Might Be Giants song of that name, where it toiled briefly in obscurity.

At some point thereafter this site was born, although I am not sure I remember why. Tiny dog is named after a hysterical and somewhat portly Arkansan min pin known as Nora (named after a character in W. Somerset Maugham's Of Human Bondage) whose hobbies include eating kleenex, growling at feet, and trading personal objects for food, part of an elaborate trick she has trained my parents to perform. Nora's spirited irrationality and hubris are my inspiration. Min pins are amazing creatures if you ever have the opportunity to witness one in action. You will be horrified, but you will not be able to look away.

For years, tiny dog was coded by hand before I converted it to Blogger in July of 2005. Thus it is a vast city dump of outmoded page designs if you dig beyond the most superficial layer, and in this way resembles our own inner psyches, still plagued with ancient grievances and unfulfilled Christmas wish lists, and unfed secret desires beneath our hard smiles and claims of outward togetherness.

I await your hate mail: mail@tiny-dog.com.

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