Remember blogging?

Me neither. That's why I'm cranking up the blog again. Yes, it'll be loaded with actual writing that about 3 kind people will read. It'll be like the good ol' days.

Right after these important messages...

No, really. Oh nevermind, I need a nap and more iron supplements. And gouda. Smoked gouda.

From the very beginning, Stephen Merchant and I had a mutual, standing agreement to "keep our options open". But I'll admit, I've been spending a dangerous amount of time in Chokeville with Joshua these days.

(Good Lord, people, let me dream.)

www.fireland.com

mybossismichaelscott.com

Suffering through three megalomaniac houses of horror like this, I could contribute and compare battle scars and chunks of years lost, but instead I'll just read along and shake my head in sad agreement and newfound gratefulness for escaping these gaping, yawning maws of hell.

mybossismichaelscott.com

Nail Art by Design Swan

"It’s incredible how the wide range of life situations, feelings and emotions can be expressed and conveyed by simple nails. Power of art add Genius of creator, making up the nail art from Vlad Artazov. "

Enjoy.

source: neatorama.com

Novocaine for the Soul | Eels

The Trapeze Swinger | Iron & Wine

Wagon Wheel | Old Crow Medicine Show

"White Winter Hymnal" | Fleet Foxes








"Ladies of the World" | Flight of the Conchords

stories of house h[a]unting_Midtown : somewhere on Carr

him: ...so...whaddaya think...

me: I think it's pretty. I think it's really, really pretty.

him: And?

me: And. I think it's the perfect example of one of these 1940s Craftsman-type Bungalowish -- oh hell, I don't know what I'm talking about, you know, but I know what I like-type houses with all these hardwood floors here, redone, nice....but nothing here is too redone, y'know. Spacious rooms, big tall ceilings, ooo-hoo with fans that will stay on until next year, all french double-doory and blah blah, glass doorknobs, most of the original glass in the windows because it's cool and wavy lookin', you can see there....front door beveled and etched and stuff, with stained-glass windows all around the place, like up there, see, and, no cracks in the ceiling, upstairs or down, and you saw all three bathrooms, right, with that one giant bathtub that looked like it may not have too much lead in it, and I checked: actual closet space if you can believe that, and, looking all around, the fixtures are great, crystal chandelier over there is nice, looks damn near original, all pretty much perfect, structurally sound, kitchen's awesome, not too moderned up, all the original cabinets with glass, and no trace of chewed up baseboards or sticky drawers --

him: Ha ha, you said "sticky drawers."

me: What are you, 5 years old?...basement's not terrifying...at all.

him: And...?

me: Ha ha, I said "sticky drawers."

him: And?

me: And...I'm fairly convinced that I could actually get that somewhat typical Midtown smell of deep fried mothballs outta here with a little Orange-Glo, maybe a bit more new sheetrock....

him: Those are plaster walls.

me: Plaster walls. More expensive likely, yeah, but. Whatever. And I'm fairly certain that all the wiring has been redone even though they kept the old button switches, see? Pipes are all good, I was told. Third time I've been here.  I'm just telling you what I know. You know, the guy who buffed this place up, realtor said, is a carpenter.

him: Really.

me: Yes. By trade.

him: Good price, too.

me: Great price. Yep. 

him: ....

me: ....

him: ....

me: ....

him: It's The Ghetto Shack, isn't it.

me: I named it "The Voodoo House" myself. But, hold on. If you look out of every other window in this house and none of the front ones facing directly across the street, you'll never see what I'm guessing started off as a crocodile painted in purple and blue on the door just behind the bottle tree that really isn't a bottle tree at all but more of an evidence-of-industry, a timeline-of-excessive-boozing. Why would anyone sane paint a snake directly onto a tree? I'm asking you. I thought I saw the humor for a second, but now I'm just asking: how is anyone even able to paint an upside-down chicken on a screen porch door? Or, is that a naked woman? And that's either a pile of rusty, kicked-in paint cans or a slumped dead body behind that stack of tires. Either way, obviously, according to a certain yellow-and-blue vibe picked up by the witch doctor across the street, the land surrounding just this corner of the block is an angered burial ground of fallen warriors past that surely must have been razed and built upon, desecrated. No problem: get a real priest in here and have the place holy-watered, sanctified, goofus-dusted. No problem, but...

Look at it. It looks like John Wayne Gacy, Jr., stepped out onto the front porch and exploded.

him: You wanna go get a beer?

me: No. I want two. And then, I want to move to Oregon. Or definitely Europe.

On My Own, observation 052209_85753-0098.9d

him: Did you know that hydrangeas are the litmus plant of the botanical world? If your blue hydrangeas are blooming pink, or your pinks are purple, you may want to adjust the pH of your soil to get the desired color. Acidic soils turn hydrangeas purple and blue. Alkaline soils leave hydrangeas pink. What you should know is that you can't turn an already pink hydrangea blossom blue or the other way around. But you can make a difference now while the flower buds are forming for next year.

me: Did you say "Did you know" or "Do you care"?