so we moved into an old brick apartment above an italian restaurant. the building is from the 1800's. the original tin tiles are still in the ceiling which i think is really cool. in certain places the tiles change to random patterns and i wonder if the Olde Tyme Store ran out of the correct tiles or if there was a leak and the tiles had to be replaced or what happened and i always wonder who put them up and what this person looked like and why they chose the tiles they did and who lived (and died?) in here in the past 200 years. bring on the ghosts. seriously, how could this place NOT be haunted? so far no ghost activity except a soft thumping that happens on the door once in a while that freaks out the doberman. potential ghost activity i guess.

someone really needs to invent these two things, pronto: one, a dishwasher that actually washes dishes instead of just half assedly sloshing the food around on them and calling it a day, and two, a fucking painkiller i can take for my back that doesn't give me the mother of all painkiller hangovers with symptoms including but not limited to Monster Headache and shaky nauseau.

and now, for your viewing pleasure, the entire contents of my shitty blackberry phone media card. in no particular order. (i KNOW, how AWEsome.)

soho hates sarah palin

www.aciesmine.com


i'm bringing back the 70's pantsuit/jumper one boogie night at a time.


didn't buy the dress, a little too hot chicks with douchbags for my taste...

i actually wore shorts one time...

mom dukes

happy birthday to me, patron shot #6 please

this shoe owns my soul

thanks mom


sen dogg. if you are reading this, get a fucking facebook account immediately for the love of all things good and holy.

dowling manor

san francisco spiders do NOT fuck around. Note missing leg probably lost in spider battle.

Pop dukes. he doesn't fuck around either.