My buddy listening to some tunes at a bar.

"Have you seen monsters like this before?"

I think it's a bittern.

I don't like cats. I'm allergic to them.

Yet, I can't stop snapping photos of them.

Is it me, or are the shadows getting a little longer?

We're about sixty days from seeing snow.

The facial hair comes off at zero-dark-thirty. After that, no more self-portraits for you.

Evil beaver.

Life, and blogging, will return to normal.

I read this book in Flori-duh this winter.

Turns out the radioactive kid is now allegedly the radioactive 31-year old. If it's true, he might end up needing a lead-lined coffin.

Hat tip to my old man, via e-mail.

So New York City is considering a new rule that would limit who can take photos and shoot videos within the city.

Continue reading "Why I'll never live in NY City"