grouchy bastard drives the good humor ice cream truck and bitches about everything under the sun
Watching life go by in the rear view mirror.
A hot and humid night in the city. People without a/c, having a hard time trying to get any sleep. Some of them choose to go outside, sitting on the stoops at 3:00 a.m. They see there are quite a few of their fellow citizens, doing the same thing. Talking and watching the few cars and trucks pass their homes. After a while some will go back inside, and give sleep another try, knowing in a couple of hours, some will be off to their jobs, and others call in sick.
She’s 88 years old, and she is by all means peaches and cream, with a dollop of whip cream on top.
Even though it is still winter, spring cleaning has begun.
Let’s get along, for no other reason than to get along.
All ye caffeine junkies, drink up, and get wired.
He’s known as the ‘why’ man, for he is always asking the why of everything.
She’s savoring the all around beauty, of the numerous wild flowers.
She lives in a household full of mad, whacked-out people.
Living the life of a nomad.
Her Sunday breakfast special, soupy pancakes.
The daily daydreamers bus has arrived.
Willie and Wilma are at the kitchen table, drinking day-old brewed coffee, and both are wondering why it tastes like shit.
She’s basking in the fake sun, reading fake news, and working on her fake tan.
Agnes, the goddess of children’s story telling.
She said, your hearing me, but not listening. He said, oh.
He never does what the play book says to do. Just wings it, and hopes for the best out come.
She sleeps soundly on a mattress filled with stiff straw.
He said, “Oh shit.” She told him to watch his mouth. So for the rest of the day, he looked into the hand held mirror, never to put it down.