Tuesday, September 25, 2007

Better than a polo shirt

From now on, I'm only working at places where the uniform involves adorable Thai fisherman pants.

Thursday, September 20, 2007

Cute animals you can eat: Part II

There was an old woman of Smedley

For the first time ever, I have a Crazy Neighbor. Her name is Josephine and she lives across the alley. Her makeup looks like it was put on by a blind five-year-old with crayons. She has an undetermined number of formerly stray dogs living with her. If she sees you, she will tell you about the dogs' dietary habits, health problems, etc. Then she will tell you about the rude crackheads who live next door (whom I have never seen and whose existence I doubt). Then, if you're lucky, she will tell you about her plants.

The plant-house ratio of Josephine's lot is about 4:3. Our landlord, Mitch, who likes to upsell, told us she's a "world-class horticulturalist." The other day she stopped me and, gesturing to an overgrown monstrosity with sad, droopy, trumpet-shaped bulbs, said, "Have you smelled my plant at night?" I told her that I hadn't. "It smells wonderful! It has a narcotic quality! It almost put the security guard at the crack house to sleep!" Then she laughed her nutty little head off.

Look! Doesn't this look like the house of a crazy person? It's like Grey Gardens over there, but without any famous relatives to add integrity.

Thursday, September 13, 2007

Cute animals you can eat: Part I

The first in an ongoing Nailgun Alley series.

Keep circling, buddy

These two signs are all over the city. Lew Blum and George Smith are in a race for total domination of the Philadelphia car-towing industry. Be forewarned, drivers. If you park somewhere you shouldn't, a man with a name that belongs in a 1950's musical revue will personally tow your car, possibly while wearing a fedora and smoking a cigar.

Tuesday, September 11, 2007

OTC Candy

Those of you without a conveniently located Wawa are missing out on one of the most delicious candies on the market: the Angel Mint. You know how diners and Thai restaurants sometimes have those orbs full of mints on the counter near the entrance? Those pastel-colored mints that start out chalky but turn into smooth, melty, ambrosial peppermint auras in your mouth? Angel Mints are like those. Only they're three times as big and you can buy them for 15 cents each instead of trying to smuggle out a giant handful while the hostess is looking the other way. I've taken to getting at least two a day.

Further research, however, has made me considered curtailing my new habit. The Angel Mint company has a whole shtick about the numerous therapeutic health benefits of the Angel Mint: relieves symptoms of irritable bowel syndrome! neutralizes free radicals! soothes the dry mouths of patients undergoing chemotherapy! "The Angel Mint treats the person, not the disease." And check out this picture that makes the things look like a mixture of after-dinner mint, sausage casing, and cannabis. Creepy!


I've recently decided to go back to school for library science. Soon after filling out the "request more information" form at the Web site of Drexel's (mighty expensive) program, I received a glossy color packet that probably cost 38 percent of some kid's tuition. Infosphere, the department's quarterly newsletter, contains the following delightful paragraph:

"iGoogle, iPod, iVillage ... 'i' has rapidly become the internationally recognized prefix of technology. Drexel's College of Information and Technology is at the forefront of this trend with its adoption of the brand 'The iSchool at Drexel.'"

I will probably not being applying to the iSchool at Drexel.

Promises, promises

I made a vow when we signed the lease here. A vow that the first thing we would do, even before the boxes were unpacked, was repaint the patio door. Why, you may ask? Allow me:

One month, 11 days later, the peace sign perseveres.