a river runs through it

hello. i am writing this post from a perilous location. the rickety, rusty fire escape on my 5th floor sublet. 1 of two things could happen. either i could fall, or my computer could fall. in either case a couple of people would be marginally upset.

that picture is ugly. so i will now insert a hot picture of an ass that may or may not be mine. why? because i can. i'm not in therapy and this is how i feel better about myself.

the glorious weather continues, and i decided to take my rat dog for a long walk. sometimes i forget that i actually live on an island. though i much prefer islands with pina colada's, steel drums, and water that is any color other than brown. but, i can't be choosy all the time. so i embrace la isla that is manhattan.

if i walk ALLLLL the way to the tip of the pier on the hudson river, and squeeze myself ALLLL the way to the corner, and squint my eyes a little, i can remove all the shit that is going on in my peripheral vision and listen to the sound of the water lapping on the wooden stilts. that was peaceful. but then this fuckwaddicksuckingshitfuck rolls up on rollerSKATES going round and round in circles behind me. oh, there's more. he is playing belinda carlisle excruciatingy loud on a boombox. like, that thing that takes 9 D volt batteries. god save me.

a photo tour of hudson river park:

a view north

the statue of liberty, look closely

fuck the police! right, gigi?

a beautiful day in the neighborhood. FDNY keeps busy.

the fountain at christopher st. THE place to go for black transvestite/lesbian/gay prostitutes. i'm not being racist. it's a fact.

ahhh, peace.