Brothers and sisters, I am an atomic bomb: a typecast

Witty click-it-to-make-it-bigger text goes here
Brought to you this time by the newest addition to the brood, Jimmy. He's a Smith-Corona Classic 12 sent from Washington D.C. by my grampa's brother. I've spent the last two days cleaning the keys and what-have-you, and now he's purdy. His case (body?) leaves a little to be desired; I think he was at one time some shade of blue but has since gone this nasty green color. Which is more than likely the case, because the keys all looked like they'd been dipped in coffee and decades-old rubber cement. My uncle (the original owner) also did things like stick masking tape on the body/case, which over time became ~one~ with the paint and now refuses to let go, no matter what kind of solvent my dad and I threw at it.

So there are no pictures of him yet, because my dad's xmas present to me is going to be to strip off the cases and take them to be powdercoated an irritating orange color, and I don't want to show him off till he's good and purdy. So he's got nasty masking tape residue all over and I'm not going to bother to try to chisel it off, because the powdercoating guys use some kind of highpowered sheep-dip to take off all traces of paint and gunk and everything else, and it's just not worth the effort.

Art's from one of my favorite comics ever, Screamland.

xo
julia