Bunch o' savages in this town

To steal a line from Clerks, there truly are a bunch of savages in this town. Grr!

On my way home from work, I caught a glimpse of some idiot's graffiti on our neighboring 'hood's welcome sign. You know, the signage that signifies the name of a certain community? Well...three big characters scrawled in black covered the entire sign, and it has to be 8+ feet high.

Luckily, ours hasn't been tagged yet. It's probably our sign's size (3 feet tall with dark brick) and lack of room to vandalize. But it seems week after week the sign across the street gets hit. What gives?

Reminds me of the graffiti we saw stamped on several fences and buildings on our way to the Montego Bay airport. Simply put, it read "Big Nuni Singer."

Hmmm...

Run to the Roses?

With only five and a half days to go before the Kentucky Derby, a memory returned from our recent trip to Jamaica.

On the third night of our trip, we had gone to the main drag of the resort to watch the nightly activities. But we thought we were too late, so we headed on to dinner. About halfway through our meal, we heard the announcer, then we heard the familiar tune.

My Old Kentucky Home, the song that signals the start of the Run To The Roses, was playing over a loud speaker. The crab races had begun.

Though we didn't see it, it sounded hilarious. The races were complete with crab painted with different colors, a play-by-play announcer and cheering fans.

All we needed were mint juleps and some stylish hats!

It will be hard for me to watch this year's Derby without letting out at least a tiny chuckle.

The motherlode

Today while walking into work, I spotted a black pigeon standing atop the cracked concrete and blacktop. Partly on the sidewalk, partly on the street, partly in a drive way, it was feverishly picking food out of the crevices. S/he gorged on something that was an afterthought by one of us humans, perhaps dropped by a patron of Cap City Tavern in the 1200 block of Bannock Street.

Nachos? Chips? Whatever it was, this pigeon hit the lotto.

Gasp!

My 7-foot wooden ostrich is gone!

Not knocked over, not broken, just plaine gone. Who will I wave to every night I drive home from work?

Thank you, Easter Bunny

Well, the furry little dude didn't happen to hit my place, but that's probably because I skipped church this weekend. For some of us, this means the end of lent and fish on Fridays.

Anyway, hope everyone is having a wonderful Easter, Passover or plain ol' spring weekend!

Another bizarre day

Later, while moving my car into my work building's garage around 6 tonight, I spied a man with glasses and a hat walking against the wind down Colfax Avenue (sometimes the most bizarre stretch of road in the city and beyond).

Beneath his charcoal wool coat was a ruffled white skirt. Beneath that were black leggings. He wore flip flops with white straps and seafoam green soles. I couldn't stop staring at his frilly skirt. Nor could the man walking in the opposite direction toward the capitol.

What will I spy tomorrow?

Cow town

Walking to work this afternoon, I had a weird tickle in my nose -- and then it hit me.

It smelled like manure. In the middle of the city.

For the entire 15-minute walk, I clutched my sleeve close to my nose and mouth, almost excited when I walked past a smoker on the street because for once, it didn't smell like cow poop.

(And it almost seems appropriate to take a dig at real cow towns Greeley or Lamar ... but I digress.)