Saltwater taffy to the left. And the right. and .. around the corner, down the street, up the stairs, in the basement, in the post office.. everywhere.
speaking of fishers and their catch.. this was my first full, whole, actual, formerly live lobster. ever. as you can see, i find the experience completely less than awesome and will never be eating whole lobster again ("here! dissect and eat this sea cockroach")
what's not disgusting? candy, fool! that's what! sadly, this wasn't salt water taffy but hard candy for your grandmother's hardcandy dish (think: ribbons)
saltwater, you say? sure, why not. here's some between Long Island and Fire Island, on the way to camping. 'Esra, quick, take the picture while pointing the camera at the surface of the sun'
'And another, quick! before people can see me!' Granted, I look devilishly handsome, as per usual. Much like the sun that you do not want to look directly into, my hotness can be the same way. Esra has unconsciously spared you.
Hey look! It's an Esra! you can see her even!
Maybe I spoke too soon. Or maybe I am unconsciously protecting you from my uber hotness.
saltwater, you say? sure, why not. here's some between Long Island and Fire Island, on the way to camping. 'Esra, quick, take the picture while pointing the camera at the surface of the sun'
'And another, quick! before people can see me!' Granted, I look devilishly handsome, as per usual. Much like the sun that you do not want to look directly into, my hotness can be the same way. Esra has unconsciously spared you.
Hey look! It's an Esra! you can see her even!
Maybe I spoke too soon. Or maybe I am unconsciously protecting you from my uber hotness.
Speaking of uber hot; Esra tries on the coolest hat in the universe. Salem, Mass.
Back to camping. What's camping without schmores? well.. a lot, I suppose. But really, what's camping without schmores? Ok, Ok. It's still a lot, I get it. But .... schmores! c'mon.
Speaking of schmores, I display optimum schmore technique involving no less than 27 seperate steps. Also, I confirm that the stigmata has disappeared from my hands.
Chris tries his hand at schmoring. He fails miserably, leaving some chocolate on the grill. I look on, laughing the laugh of the Roman shmore god, Shmorey.
Back to camping. What's camping without schmores? well.. a lot, I suppose. But really, what's camping without schmores? Ok, Ok. It's still a lot, I get it. But .... schmores! c'mon.
Speaking of schmores, I display optimum schmore technique involving no less than 27 seperate steps. Also, I confirm that the stigmata has disappeared from my hands.
Chris tries his hand at schmoring. He fails miserably, leaving some chocolate on the grill. I look on, laughing the laugh of the Roman shmore god, Shmorey.
Back to the city! To Washington Square Park.. at night.. watching the filming of the new Will Smith movie, I Am Legend. I didn't take this photo. I wish I could say I did. Cool, eh?
I didn't take this photo either. God, I'm such a cheat sometimes. Another shot of Washington Square Park besnowed with glsnowrious snow.
I didn't take this photo either. God, I'm such a cheat sometimes. Another shot of Washington Square Park besnowed with glsnowrious snow.
Esra's aunt in front of the Lower East Side / East Village "Loisaida" sign by NY-famous Chico. So famous and respected, taggers wait a few months before putting their stupid initials up over his work (usually, they leave his stuff alone all together)
Chico does lots of privately commissioned pieces too. This one's for an east village vet. Do a flikr search for Chico to see even better stuff of his.
No comments:
Post a Comment