She added me on Facebook, Twitter and LinkedIn.
She added me on Facebook, Twitter and LinkedIn.
I went with my mother to pick up some corn at Eichner's Farm in Wexford. Pap goes crazy for this corn in a way no 93 year-old really should for anything. I took a minute to get a snapshot of the vintage lawnmower in the front yard.
Fuck this storm nonsense, I have a car!
I'm going to sweat it out in Pittsburgh.
As I was approaching the George Washington Bridges, sitting in traffic, attempting to escape from the threats of hurricane Irene, I saw this man entering himself into permanent record of the now-wet concrete sidewalk.
This is sort of hot. I know these tits aren't real, and there's not even a head on the torso, but it's hot the way these hard, enormous plastic breasts are covered in rain. It's free, public, Sports Illustrated-grade titillation and I will pause to appreciate it.
Last night, after departing from a date who revealed she was actually married (but separated), I pedaled home to Bedford Ave. On North Ninth, near the intersection with Kent, there was a fire on the sidewalk. I made it to Berry before I realized I should probably put it out.
We were sitting outside having iced tea and catching up. Pap, his eyeballs old but still remarkably useful, spotted deer over the hill.
Hilda, get the binoculars.
We counted the deer, a small herd, and went back to drinking tea.
We felt the building shake at the Dunvagen office. We all went down the stairs. One man behind me was trying to shove his way through the crowd. I told him it wasn't helping matters.