WIT ESCAPES ME MOST DAYS

If anybody were to sing your theme song wouldn't you want it to be the Simpson's?

ILITERACY IS NOT SPELLED WITH TWO T'S

Crappy photo of the new stamp I had made.
When I find a book, basketball (not too sure how well that will work, doesn't matter anyway, the dog gets all the balls I find and her reading level is way above rubber stamps and shit) or in this case a moleskin journal, I will stamp it and set it back into the stream, unless of course our household can put it to use, in that case I will stamp it as well and every time I use it I will give myself a reach-around sort of pat on the back that says "You really do have half a brain son." and roll through life knowing that I know how to make a rubber stamp come to life.

Then one day, years later, after I have broken my neck falling down 30 stairs with a 300lb can or burlap sack of trash falling upon my paralyzed body I will angrily demand the stamp be thrown in the trash and some other young chump will find this and crown it the highest point in irony and the world will fold in on itself and we will start all over again like the intro to the Simpson's that has Homer evolving from cell to caveman to caveman with a job.

This thing has that much power.

Touch it.

SOME GIRLS MOTHERS

Trying to laugh about John Lithgow's part in The world According to Garp with a gentlemen from Mezcala does not work out loud as you would imagine it would in your pop culture addled head...

That did not stop us from cracking up over this rather husky trans-dressed individual that climbed into the back of the hopper (where the trash goes before the blade scoops it into the body of the truck) to get a skateboard while the truck was running, of course I had no Idea that she was going to need to climb in to get her roll on.

Check the sweet sequence I shot of her bstgbs....
Pulled it clean, I think it is the overcoat that really sends the message.

Another fun occurrence today; I pulled a can up from the basement in a TL building today and once i opened the lid there was a fresh yet dead pigeon staring back at me with it's hollow, hollow eyes...

IT'S NOT YOU, IT'S ME, NO IT'S YOU, REALLY...

With the new aggressive campaign the city has taken up I am surprised that we have yet to see one of these pop up stateside.

I have caught one before, I can catch one again.
I got my mitt, coach, put me in!

THROW IN THE DUCT TAPE AND PERSONALIZED LICENSE PLATE AND WE HAVE A DEAL

Oh citizens of Cow Hollow...
You used to roll so hard.

THE SHIT YOU COME UP WITH

Imagine if it were dark and you had to step between two containers to push this one out for service... and the above is why you push from the ends and not the middle.

I believe the term for this is "Wall Shits" but you may have to adapt the title to the location of the actual shit.

Maybe I should ditch the blog and start the "Wall Shits Journal", there are so many examples in the city, perhaps that is the first off-shoot blog.

I need a staff to bark orders about shit at first tho, the possibilites are endless:
WHAT IS THIS SHIT?
WHAT IS THIS SHIT DOING HERE?
WHOSE SHIT IS THIS?
I DID NOT KNOW YOU COULD WALL SHIT A FIRE HYDRANT?!