Posts Tagged "fog"
H-hello? Is anybody out there? We’ll see, I guess.
So, I’ve been quite delinquent in my blogging responsibilities ever since I moved out of New York, but Dedleg has nevertheless been on my mind. I suppose I’d been avoiding the little guy, because I was embarrassed and ashamed about being such a bad friend. But we’re still besties, don’t you worry, and I’m going to try to give this heaping pile of free association and creative wind-breaking a little more attention from now on.
Of course, I make this oath to be somewhat more productive knowing full well that I’m moving again at the end of the month. Don’t get too excited — I’m not going back to New York. Not yet anyway. I signed an 8-month lease on the top floor of a cool hideout in Northampton, MA, a whopping 5 minutes down the road from where I’ve been crashing the past couple months.
My brother’s home is nice and all, but… come on, it’s not exactly a hideout, and do you really think Dedleg deserves anything less? I’m the harbinger of death on four wheels, a shadow in a dark room, I’m no mere apartment dweller. I’m more of a castle-in-the-sky type, you know? Anyway, I didn’t quite land a castle, what with my limited income and all, but I did manage to score a place with a balcony.
Anyway, the other day I took a little walk around the neighborhood so you can see where I’m staying. It’s a little rough around the edges, but hey, it’s home.
It’s been a fuck of a week, I’ll tell you that much. But I had to put something up, if only because that loser in the Spider-Man costume was really starting to bug me. Oh, that wasn’t very punny. I mean funny. Spiders aren’t even a type of bug, er, insect. God, it’s been a fuck of a week.
That’s all for now, folks. Or BBL, for the kids.
Man, if you didn’t go skateboarding this weekend, I bet you’re regretting that now! Because I sure am
Anyway, here are some kind of misty photos for a kind of misty day.
Shit ain’t even finished yet and it’s already the tallest building in New York.
Interestingly enough, upon completion 1 WTC’s actual roof height will still be 82 feet shorter than the Willis Tower in Chicago. It will earn its “tallest building in the Western Hemisphere” epithet with its spire reaching an uber-patriotic 1,776 feet… basically, by cheating and coming up with a good excuse for it. It’s the American way!
The sky was all foggy and weird last night.
Readers who have kept up since the Chicago days have probably noticed that I’ve found my new skyline, if you could even call it that, after a year of living in a cave. It might not be much, but as long as the view faces somewhat west, I’m reasonably inclined to become obsessed with taking pictures of it.
See what I mean?
Figured these shots I took on the Williamsburg waterfront a few weeks ago would go down smooth on this most dreary of Mondays.
Sometimes, getting a good photo is simply about being at the right place at the right time. At this particular time, somewhere around 3:00 AM on a Saturday, it seemed I was in the right place. I’ve taken many pictures of the Williamsburg Bridge from this park, but none of them looked this cool. Well, none of them looked this yellow at the very least.
Spent an hour this morning sorting through my backlog of b-sides. This is to be distinguished from my backlog of photography in general, which is slowly creeping towards the borders of infinity. The Island of The Misfit Photos seemed more approachable, seeing as I’ve always related to the outcasts of our society. I mean, except for lepers, because that shit’s just nasty.
NYC’s been experiencing some notably low cloud cover these days. Might have something to do with this humid subtropical climate Manhattan apparently has, a fact I suppose I was unaware of until I just read it on Wikipedia moments ago. And yet… I feel like I always suspected as much… or, at least the hot sweat running tortuously down my back did.
Every once and a while a breeze will blow through my window, wafting in the summer scents from the garden outside. I breathe it in. The warm air is refreshing, even sweetly nostalgic, when suddenly… my lip curls, nostrils flaring just slightly, and I think to myself, “Smells like a dead raccoon is out there.” And then I’m like, “Oh yeah.”
Somehow this post is turning into a wildlife seminar. I’m babysitting my friend’s mutant goldfish for the summer and I don’t think the little fucker is all that appreciative of the hospitality. Along with his patsy, a catfish sidekick, he spends his days staring at me. Sometimes he does this while sharpening a knife he acquired from one of those metal diver statuettes on a rock. It’s unsettling, but I keep feeding him anyway, because at least if he’s full he’s less likely to attempt to eat my finger.
It had been a while since I encountered one of my old arachnid pals — you know, my uninvited roommates back in Chicago. I figured moving across the country would pretty much be the final nail in our friendship. All those times I accidentally ate them while I was sleeping was bad enough. When I first saw this guy in my bathroom a couple weeks ago, I foolishly thought that perhaps they had secretly traveled to New York in my belongings, only to lay dormant through the winter. And with the arrival of warmer weather, they started venturing out into their new territory. Alas, thanks to Wikipedia’s notorious party-pooping, it seems as if I was foolishly naive to assume so, given that “Zebra spiders are widespread across Britain, Europe, and North America, and are found throughout the Holarctic. They often live close to or in human settlements.”
Nothing is special anymore.
It’s pretty clear, ironically enough, that fog is awesome. Maybe not so much when you’re strolling through a pumpkin patch in Sleepy Hollow, New York, but things are different here in New York, New York. For one thing, Giuliani threw out all the headless lunatics years ago.
Typical. One guy carrying the huge piece of wood, four guys standing around, watching him.
Also, I wonder how often people actually fall from construction sites like this one. The nets around the building are an obvious precaution to just about anybody who isn’t a complete dunce, but I wonder how often they’ve proved their worth.
Seems like a pretty conspicuous place to leave yourself that kind of reminder.
Now, The Bible is decidedly not as cool as fog… especially after those Bible-touting assholes tried to say Harry Potter was evil. Nobody talks about my Harry like that. Not even a former Nazi Cub Scout who ended up getting elected as the Pope. Didn’t you ever even read the books, Benedict? Voldemort’s the evil one, everybody fucking knows that. Nonetheless, this still seems a bit melodramatic. I prefer to save mine for those rare occasions when I feel like going down to the corner and shouting sections from Revelation with one hand down the front of my pants.
Spring appears to finally be on its way — and in Chicago that means a transitional and diverse weather period that resembles the first hour of The Day After Tomorrow. Between patches of heavy snowfall after a week of 60 degree days, and nights so foggy they’d put a nervous poopie in Ichabod Crane’s pantaloons, I feel like I’m living on a remote island in the North Atlantic.
Climate change be damned, I blame The Niño.
Curious to learn more? Look no further…
This is all a bit of throwaway footy, so I apologize for the lackluster photo updates so far this week. I’m drunk and need content, so suffice to say I didn’t labor over the decision to post them for very long. Shots that may or may not be less mediocre coming soon.