1. There is a small Asian man pacing the sidewalk in front of my apartment, muttering to himself and waving a cigar around.
1a. He's wearing a very lovely suit and tie, clutching a fedora in one hand.
1b. He is also barefoot and has a ragged bath towel safety-pinned to his shoulders like a cape.
1c. The ritual taking out of the garbage is postponed until I can figure what Superman-san is up to.
1d. Perhaps he's looking for a turkey.
2. The floor of my balcony is covered with dead bees. Somehow my balcony has become the dreaded Balcony Of Death.
3. I wonder if I could invite Howard Dean to visit my balcony?
4. My mom just called for lyrics clarification. I was forced to tell her that no, it does not go "Don't know what it tastes like, I'm addicted to love". She seemed relieved, actually.
5. Superman-san is back. He has stuffed the fedora down the back of his pants. Bold fashion move, Superman-san.
6. You can make an edible psuedo-Thai-peanut-sauce with peanut butter, vinegar, lime juice and ketchup, but I don't advise it.
7. Superman-san is in the middle of the street studying the manhole cover. He waves politely no matter what motorists forced to swerve yell about his mother.
8. I found seventy-five cents under the toaster. I can only guess I was drunk and playing Vending Machine Fun again.
9. Oh goody, the garbage truck is here.
10. Superman-san is also excited about the garbage truck. He's so overwhelmed with emotion he's dropped his cigar and crawled under a car.
11. Apparently it was just the path he chose to take, as he has wiggled out the other side and run after the garbage truck.
12. I wish I could get that excited about the garbage truck. Perhaps if George Clooney drove a garbage truck....
12a. I like the way "garbage truck" looks.... garbage truck garbage truck garbage truck. Yowsa.
13. Superman-san is a sentimental, holiday-every-day kind of guy. I know this because he is dragging a dried-out Christmas tree down the sidewalk and calling it "darling."
14. I hope they'll be very happy together.
15. Can someone tell me when Tim Burton started scripting my street?
Well, if surreality TV ever takes off, we'll know who to contact.
Posted by: Pixy Misa at January 23, 2004 02:57 PMHoly crap!! Obviously you were visited by Saint Tannenbaum, the "Fir Fucker," and you didn't even know it. Now, the "Balcony of Death" makes perfect sense.
Memmo to Locusts: You're on.
Posted by: Jim-Parkway Rest Stop at January 23, 2004 04:56 PMIs there enough local color to make this a series?
I would return and send friends for more of your Surreal Street Blues... :)
Back off the vinegar, and substitute sriracha for the ketchup. I also suggest using fresh-ground peanut butter from the earthy-crunchy store rather than peanut spackle from a jar.
LeeAnn's neighborhood - wow. That would make for a good reality tv show. Pixy is right.
Posted by: Beth at January 24, 2004 09:58 AMencore!
Posted by: Tiger at January 25, 2004 12:02 PMHoney, I'm taking you back off those meds.
Posted by: Da Goddess at January 26, 2004 04:28 PMYou state it best...the goings on around your place is like a Tim Burton film.
I haven't decided if this is a good or bad thing yet.
On the one hand...naked, abandoned turkeys, angry screen door wanting neighbors, Superman-san...lots of bloggy goodness here.
On the other hand...naked abandoned turkeys, angry screen door wanting neighbors, Superman-san...need I say more?
Posted by: Serenity at January 28, 2004 05:10 PM