EZ Bake Bowlamatic BreastFest

Actually, the ads have nothing to do with this. No, really? But think about it, kids actually ate crap they baked in a goofy plastic thing. I'll bet this is where some of the lesser known fast food joints got their ideas. Me, I'd shove the bowling figure in the oven, judging him for all his bowling sins. And fashion wear. Yea, its all in black ink, but we know what colors he is wearing. Wait. What am I thinking? I own bowling shirts! Let's just stick with the fact that the guy cheated on the scorecard and his wife, even though he is a piece of plastic attached to a metal stick. I can say what I want here. Attica! Attica!

OK, on to the main event. You all know that I ripped my printer/scanner/unused fax machine apart in December Just Because. It was like an abusive robot lover. So I'm left with taking photos with my webcam. And so we get to this flyer for a Beer and Breast Fest sponsored by the Outlaws. It is all wrinkled and presumably had blown around and gotten stuck in a patch or our icy snow. I know it blew from somewhere else, because our block is composed of polaks and lugans, and no one really wants to be anywhere near 26th & Rockwell, let's leave it at that. Note that on Rockwell on the north side, that there is Insane Unknown turf. How everything comes around on this blog. Dig this tho: the thing runs from January 15 thru February 26. This could be a typo, saw it happen at the plant. If the client signed off on the proof, even if I knew the mistake, he'd just pay again. Ah, commerce. Anyhow. Imagine a six week long party. I suppose it would be a happy party, because as you can read on the bottom, there are no guns or no bad attitudes allowed. 26th & Rockwell is amazingly close to Cook County Jail. Maybe the Fest is actually on the jail grounds? Naw, that couldn't be. Could it?

Someone Has To Post This, Might As Well Be Me

Fast Foos, Jackson Boulevard

Fast Foos. I should have thought of that. Used to be The Russian Egg, back in the day. There was also a hot dog joint called U Dawg U and it is gone, I can't find a Google of it, so I have started using You Dog, You in my head. So for any of you writer types reading this, its in my head.
The Steger Building is next to that, closer to the el. An actual building with a name and not a number, even though, to those of us in the know, it is 28 West Jax. I went in there and snuck around once, lots of single offices and the like. The last photo I set on its side by mistake. I was playing with the shadows when I took the shot.

8 Degrees

45 yesterday and a wonderful 8 as I type this. Its something you get used to, actually. In the subway at Randolph, I listened to this guy sing "Under The Boardwalk," then let one train go by so I could listen to "Somewhere Over The Rainbow." It started badly, but once you could hear the echoes it was incredible. I zoned in on the pattern of the platform tiles, the random colors on the walls. Wishing him well in two dollar increments. These are all photos from the Chicago pool on Flickr, I add two photos from my account per day, the limit. What I should do is get a photo of Bubbly Creek now, because it will NOT have ice blocks on it. Or in it. Whatever. Back to the el, the guy made my night.

I liked Bob's comment about his laughing at the thought of a zombie in the toilet bowl, but think on it. The house will vibrate starting at ten AM. Some days, nothing. Others, like last Wednesday, they were driving me nuts. So it would be like a zombie growling in the toilet, stuck inside for good. Hearing the gurgles is like hearing the whup whup whup. It should be noted that since the snow melted yesterday, I now have three huge bags of collie and corgi shit. I know this is a bad idea from the start, but tomorrow I might just throw one of the bags up in the air, right in front of it. My luck the bag would hit the rotor and fling it back down to me at a couple of miles an hour. Weekly Word News, hear I come.

Hell on Earth

The Sun-Times headline was, of course, detailing the earthquake in Tahiti.The man, he told me his name was Fred, was sitting near where the Rialto SRO had been until it was demolished in the 90s. I had several photos I had taken inside the Rialto at the time, this one seems the only one to have survived over the years.

Day of the Fly-Bys

Yes, more helicopters. Or the same helicopter. Or my drugs on brain. This was Wednesday, the 13th. Our only sunny day this entire months. Now we've had some cloudless nights, but, really, so what? It's night in winter and, yes, maybe I can see a few stars, but again, it is winter in Chicago.

So I'm heading to the bus for my comic book fix up at Tenth Planet and all of a sudden, I can hear it coming. As the sun was higher than normal, it being closer to noon, it took me a second to see it, even though I knew exactly what trees it would appear from. The other two shots were good as I got some decent scenery from the other end of the block. For a change, I stood in the street, ice-covered as it was. I do have one photo of a rotor blade and a solid blue sky. But the story does not end here. I am on my way home, the last leg of a half-mile walk from the bus stop made shorter by zipping through the lot of the baptist church and, all of a sudden, there's the sound. I grab the camera, snap two shots, facing west, the second shows an apartment building where a truly yappy weiner dog lives. You should hear it in summer. I get inside, make lunch, bring it upstairs, turn on the computer, and even as it is booting up...there's the sound. I knew I had one photo left, so of course I took the photo. It's all second nature to me now, like if a zombie lived in my toilet bowl. I'd accept that, too.