and now for a great big "anyway..."

with the glory of warmth comes the volcanic eruption of spawn from the safety of their parent's homes. it is all hormones and energy drinks and senseless shrieking in the streets, though certainly preferable to them locking themselves up in front of a television, in their defense. summer is rapidly approaching and my annual fear of the three month youth invasion is beginning to simmer. the teenage population in my new neighborhood is of ghastly proportions and therefore i must keep my curtains drawn like a crotchety old spinster when school is not in session. for some hideous reason i am being mistaken up here for one of them and sixteen year old boys are far bolder than i recall. you would think the arms and legs full of tattoos might tip them off to the fact that i am ten years their senior, but apparently these connections are meaningless. it is bad enough with all of the grown men who harass us women on the streets, thinking (for some reason unbeknownst to us) that we actually want to interrupt our otherwise pleasant stroll to speak to them after they spew some inane verbiage our way, offering not even an ant's crumb that they may be an intelligible suitor or even a good lay at that.

now that i have purged these gripes from my system i will breathe an eloquent "fuck it" and embrace with open arms the fact that the frigid and fruitless winter has departed and that the creepy nun in the ice cream truck is back on the streets filling my evenings with mystery and if nothing else, song.



i will now regale you with some high-quality flip-phone photographs:

MUNICIPAL WASTE, RICHMOND THRASH REPRESENTED THROUGH PITTSBURGH TRASH! \m/





THE SMOKE OF MY INCENSE BEARING AN UNCANNY RESEMBLANCE TO THE HEAD OF BAPHOMET!





oh, how i love when these tiny reminiscences pop-up unexpectedly; they are just sprinkles on a metalhead's cupcake.

also, this rather fine photo was taken...

and now for a great big "anyway..."

with the glory of warmth comes the volcanic eruption of spawn from the safety of their parent's homes. it is all hormones and energy drinks and senseless shrieking in the streets, though certainly preferable to them locking themselves up in front of a television, in their defense. summer is rapidly approaching and my annual fear of the three month youth invasion is beginning to simmer. the teenage population in my new neighborhood is of ghastly proportions and therefore i must keep my curtains drawn like a crotchety old spinster when school is not in session. for some hideous reason i am being mistaken up here for one of them and sixteen year old boys are far bolder than i recall. you would think the arms and legs full of tattoos might tip them off to the fact that i am ten years their senior, but apparently these connections are meaningless. it is bad enough with all of the grown men who harass us women on the streets, thinking (for some reason unbeknownst to us) that we actually want to interrupt our otherwise pleasant stroll to speak to them after they spew some inane verbiage our way, offering not even an ant's crumb that they may be an intelligible suitor or even a good lay at that.

now that i have purged these gripes from my system i will breathe an eloquent "fuck it" and embrace with open arms the fact that the frigid and fruitless winter has departed and that the creepy nun in the ice cream truck is back on the streets filling my evenings with mystery and if nothing else, song.



i will now regale you with some high-quality flip-phone photographs:

MUNICIPAL WASTE, RICHMOND THRASH REPRESENTED THROUGH PITTSBURGH TRASH! \m/





THE SMOKE OF MY INCENSE BEARING AN UNCANNY RESEMBLANCE TO THE HEAD OF BAPHOMET!





oh, how i love when these tiny reminiscences pop-up unexpectedly; they are just sprinkles on a metalhead's cupcake.

also, this rather fine photo was taken after wrapping up a work event aka grilling burgers for the masses. proof to you that i am in possession of gainful, non soul-crushing, and i dare say enjoyable employment. at least until the wrath of winter attempts to overturn the ship sailed by food truckers far and wide.




A CONFEDERACY OF DUNCES IS AN AMAZING WORK OF LITERATURE. i could not put it down. i had off sunday and monday and excepting a few hours in which i wandered off for groceries and to play a game of scrabble i literally spent them devouring it.

for over-the-top, cheesy gore lovers THE UNDERTAKER AND HIS PALS is A FUCKING GEM that i discovered with the purchase of a "flesh feast" boxed set for a mere two dollars and fifty cents.

and they say nothing's a bargain anymore. ha! i would have paid millions for it!


i do apologize for this sudden excess in capitalization, by the way. i do not mean to yell at you, or rather at your precious eyeballs.


these next few days will be pure, working madness.
trucking all over the fucking place and underwear bar tending at 31st street pub tomorrow (hint hint, pittsburghers )


happy hump day!
go hump someone or something or at least enjoy the beautiful sunshine.

and on that note it is time to scurry down the block to work.

until we meet again, my love noodles....



<3 Rexx