Stumbling upon the cooking of a Hobo Stew.... priceless

The new Huckleberry Finn's of our time.

Spying on people with a telephoto is super creepy.

Crystal Kuntz vs. Knutson

I read the Economist today, the New York Times, Financial Times, the New Yorker, and Albin's blog at Young Philosopher.com today. Still none of them had me as intrigued as the Judge Judy episode that was poppin' off in Queens.
Judge Judy Revolts against Kuntz and Knutson, she went on to tell them they were both satanic and flashed some Helter Skelter sign.

Knutson gave it her all.

Crystal Kuntz in the flesh. The girl in the back left ponders her namesake, the devil on her other shoulder laughs the day away.

Ok ok, I know, never again.

Catnails under the mistletoe

The Beast got in a barfight and ended up at the hospital. Woke up, didn't know where he was, and walked out still wearing the smock they gave him. On the train ride home a couple people asked if he was a doctor, and he indeed replied by telling them he was a veterinarian. "Yeah, I'm in the amputee section, had to do a couple cats legs today. Look here, one of them scratched me." And he held up his arm to show where the cats nails had broke skin. Then he went on, "Ya'know, the usual." And everyone on the train looked at him in absolute disbelief and horror. But I gotta say, it certainly was a momentous occasion in the kitchen hearing the retelling of that story!

The beagle has landed.

So I was sick of the world, sick of my job and girlfriend and every friend I ever had so I decided to take a walk uptown. A couple bourbons in Harlem will make you feel like a million bucks and as the night went on I found myself hanging in some spot on 145th and Broadway. I went straight to the back and acted like I was reading.
I knew this guy was CIA because he walked past me in the bathroom and said "Serpentine on top. Flailing little. Suddenly." And I took that to be some kind of code, sort of like "The eagle has landed."
I knew he was full of it when he was sitting in front of this piano still giving code to a couple of officials in the black van parked outside so I egged him on, "You gonna play that thing or what? You lousy jerk!" So he played the easiest song that even little Johnny B. Goode could've played with one hand.

So my bourbon and taunting session becomes more elaborate, I've got ten people booing the guy and one lady with a short red skirt threw an empty hi-ball of ice cubes at the guy. Ouch!
But he'd had enough.

Then he had to go and show off by playing Gershwin's "Rhapsody in Blue" with one hand. I got one last scream in, "Ya god-damned show off!" Before quietly exiting with glass in pocket.

A quarter ain't worth a wasted dream, ya jerk!

On recent assignment for the newspaper I had to go shoot a Cancer Walk at Atlantic and 125th. I got there right when it was beginning and no one was really there, afterall it was raining out. Taking full benefit of my 1989 Grand Marquis I decided to put the seat back and take a nap until more people showed up. That is, until some guy woke me up asking me for a quarter. C'mon guy, is it really worth waking me up? I feel bad and all but I had to scream at the guy semi-nicely.