guyz.

this is beautiful. Also, slightly long-ish, so I won't be bothered if you don't read it. Also, this is a really nice article and reflection on what it's like to have/have lived with a porch. Do you think we will ever be happy without a porch again?

Out With the Old and in with the New.

Recently we had some old neighbors move out, and we thought the neighborhood was getting cleaned up. Little did we know that these boys are the ones who moved in.


As I was walking around the corner yesterday, I saw a boy (as in his 20s) with a swollen face and an ice pack on his head, in a circle with his boys. Our new neighbors. Apparently the one had gotten jumped and so him and his boys were getting all riled up about it and talking about how they were going to go f him and his crew right back up. Welcome to Gang War 2010.

...like a good day to whislte.

At least that's what the UPS delivery guy thought as he delivered tea paraphernalia to our front door. It's nice to have a room in the front.

...alive. Maybe?

I have sat on the porch for the last three afternoons. We have neighbours again. I think hints of springtime are bringing people out in the streets (praise the good Lord).



Pray that is doesn't snow. Ever.

...like snow kicked our asses.

and everyone hates their lives. the end.

A LITTLE SHIFTY...

What time, in the rest of the world, does the milkman deliver milk?
Because here, In our little corner of the earth, apparently he delivers at 12:30 am.
That's right. The Winder Dairy truck pulled up across the street at 12:30 in the morning and dashed up to the porch across the street to leave a little deposit.
Seriously- I thought the whole milkman thing was a joke.
It's summertime- and tonight, the low is supposed to get down to 75 degrees- I wonder what the Health Department would have to say about dairy products staying out all night in 77 degree heat? Apparently the social worker husband abuser knows where to get hers from at any time of day or night...

From Here the World Looks Like a Giant Buffet of Crippling Opportunities.

"I just really love buffets and that is why I am crippled," the pot smoking abuser from next door mumbles to me, grabbing his chest as I try to mutter a polite response and walk away without looking like I'm sprinting. Unfortunately when cornered in your own yard, there aren't many options of where to go, just back to the porch. And unfortunately, this awkward response of mine probably indicates that we are now best friends and he will now randomly stop by and have horrible conversations with us like our old neighbor with a shotgun and a Chinese mail-order-bride.

I am not exactly sure how buffets make you crippled, I am not exactly sure that he was actually crippled. He walks just fine, and from the police pounding on their door at all times of the day and night we for sure know he is not too crippled to beat his wife. However, he apparently became crippled from too many buffets. Therefore: the moral of the story, don't eat at too many buffets, or else you will become a crippled wife beater.

Photo by http://www.flickr.com/photos/ljosberinn