i’ll spend a few art deco hours at penn and 30th street stations.

i’ll probably eat a dirty water dog (or two.)

i’ll say goodbye to katie and lil’ mo reese and rodin until i see them again next …

i’ll check in on an old friend and see how she’s holding up.

i’ll miss philly, but i’ll be back in a few short days, and i’ve been promised a continuation of the cheesesteak tour.

i’ll also look forward to an italian hoagie, the good kind with the the sharp provolone.

mostly i’ll just stare out of moving windows at my passing life, wishing i were somewhere else, growing older than the rain.

big kev’s place is a work in progress, but who wouldn’t want to save a hundred year old haunted castle if they could?

chin’s place is more of a big ole stone house rather than a huge ole stone house. three stories as well, but a bit less castle like. quite lovely and very cozy with great light and beautiful floors. i hope i’m here when we rip out the wall between the kitchen and dining room. i like demo …

***

if eric schmitt was a beer …

‘ello guvna …

***this just in: michael jackson’s body to appear at memorial service. how rad would it be … stay with me here … ’bout an hour into the service, preacher’s working the crowd, really got ‘em in the palm of his hand, distraught fans sobbing hysterically, the whole disastrous scene in full effect. suddenly, through the p.a., the opening notes of ‘thriller’ echo through staple’s center. dancers materialize from all directions, rising from below the stage, descending from the ceiling, swinging in on ropes. stage lights up! cue the pyrotechnics! smoke pours into the arena … rising like a racial/gender/species ambiguous phoenix out of his diamond studded, solid gold casket … michael jackson (replete with the fedora, the white glove, the loafers, the whole scene). a flip of the hat. a tight spin into a leg kick punctuated with a crisp crotch grab. he descends from the casket and, with a buttery moonwalk that crosses the length of the dais, rips the microphone from the mystified preacher (holy shit, this snake oil fucking works!) and launches into the chorus as tens of thousands of witnesses erupt into a throbbing sea of unbridled celebration at heaven’s only all-night discotheque. talk about a comeback … ***

big kev’s place … katie scorned me for taking pictures of the house in ‘disarray’ … chicks.

(i don’t know what is up with the gallery, but you can see these pictures if you scroll through them. i guess it’s time to install some of these updates that keep popping up around here.)

[Show as slideshow]

i like it here.