this part of 15th is predominantly populated by earnest folks in sensible footwear, carrying $5 cups of coffee and walking sarcastic-looking dogs with ironically fluorescent leashes. no one's gonna steal your smiling cutlery on a piece of plywood.
...dick.
a re-probe of the long-latent Blue Study! this happens every fucking year when the blue skies become a jarring novelty and the few colors one sees are exponentially bombastic.
seattle seems to slowly be getting better at not simply building structures that greedily suck the shadows and light inward. if you must violate the city with more overpriced ghastly real estate, please at least provide more reflective windows and colorfulness and interesting shapes.
I mean, give us poor folk something to admire, for fuck's sake.
I was on the 43 and the guy in red got on with a backpack. he sat down stridently and his bag EXPLODED with some milk-like fluid. I haven't seen something combust so satisfyingly (and unexpectedly!) in YEARS! the driver stopped at the light and came back to wipe every seat in the front 1/3 of the bus down with a rag.
it was funny and anecdotal until the guy in the red shirt didn't move while the driver was cleaning everything up. he didn't budge. he just fucking sat there with an uncomfortable expression on his face.
I got kinda judgy.
19th Ave. my ex loved Chuck Mangione.
I fucking loathe Chuck Mangione.
Spongebob, I'm indifferent towards.
I like the guy out to the right. fucking asshole nihilist. your crow-friends probably ARE jerks. sulky fuckin' pouty-assed poetry-writin' crow.
I don't *always* want to show off my sexy-ass lazy eye, so I tend to plaintively look into the distance when I take photos of myself, as a fucking asshole might. cross eye > assholery on the intolera-bell curve.
I should title this "oh! I had no idea the camera was there, in my hand, TAKING MY FUCKING PICTURE."
oh, you.
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