Seen on the Granville red line platform. RR = Richie Rich.
The building two doors north of me has a big “X” bolted to the side of it, and a bunker in back where that chainlink fence is. Looks like demolition has finally started (power of the X incarnate).
A comic about the Blackhawks, the lions outside the Art Institute, love, anatomy, lesbians, youth, and Chicago.
Originally posted to: ericaricardo.com/vlad/lions
Been friends with Steve for 17 years. Could deliver you decades’ worth of photos of us two in this same pose.
He moved to Long Beach last summer, but was back in town for a show. Too many hot women at his opening [puns intended].
Darwin Deez @schubas
Haven’t seen this kid in ten years. Now he’s a big star. All the kids in the crowd knew all the words.
When he saw me at the bar, there was no hesitation. “Hey, erica,” he said. The tesseract of heart. Lossless.
Seer’s Tower with V + his visiting friend R. Chicago achievement unlocked.
The view was spectacular but no more so than from the restaurant near the top of the Hancock. Had most fun goofing off in the hour and a half line. A line to go through security. A line to get your ticket. A line to get on the elevator. Lines running through the many gift shops.
I have a real weakness for refrigerator magnets and coffee mugs, and there were some excellent ones at these gift shops but I refuse to negotiate with terrorists, and thus let the shopportunities pass by.
Also: will send the folks at the Tower my suggested changes to the trivia available in line. “All this trivia says is, ‘look at how big this fucking tower is.’ They say it over and over!” said V.
Cuttin’ up with Katya at the Drake. Achievement unlocked.
The Drake is where you take your pretty moll and commune with other gangsters. The Drake is where you wear your tight black dress and dance to live jazz. The Drake is where you shoot something up in the bathroom and leave your syringe behind in the stall (insulin? heroin?).
M saw a lookalike 30 years her senior in the corner. “Look at her: beautiful, severe white hair, shawl, grumpy face, alone, well-lit, accompanied by a gay man … that’s me in the future!” exclaimed M.
We deliberated the best course of action. “Send her a drink!”
The drink duly sent, M’s sylphan future self accepted it without remark. As expected.
Those familiar with my black thumb will find it no surprise that the garlic, found sprouted last week and planted shortly thereafter, is not doing so great.
After an initial manic growth phase, it has since folded in half. So I’ve wired it to a chopstick, much like Odysseus tied to the mast, sailing past the sirens.
See how it strains at the sounds. The Buddhists say “life is suffering” but they mean suffer like straining. And the straining can be painful, but it can also be how you know you’re alive. Thus, love unto the strange equivalences advanced by the Buddhists.