Most amusingly, and you will see why soon, is that there is a street perpendicular to Keystone called, Kings Row. All of the streets feeding off that street have king-related names. Oh, the irony!
Following, is a random observation I wrote, years ago, about a man I saw everyday as I drove to and from work. This awesome dude is still roaming the royal streets of Keystone. Without further ado, I give you the royal tale of the reign of the King of Keystone!
I had to write a blog post about the most amazing random observation, quite possibly, of my life. Above, you will find a picture of a man. This man is sitting, outside of a 7-11, on some electrical box that is flanked by two cement columns. This man sits here, literally, everyday. Usually, he has his arms resting, royally, on the cement columns. He sits on this dirty plastic box like it is his throne and that Keystone Avenue and the surrounding area is his Bumdom. If you look at him, and hell, who wouldn’t, he nods at you, nobly, as if to say, “Yes, you may gaze upon my glorious self, but don’t get any ideas, this here throne is mine. No one sits on it, but me (and if you try, I will cut you).”
He is quite possibly the coolest hobo I have ever seen. He has to be crazy, but hell, if crazy means you are a king and you get a throne and loyal subjects, who feed you their left over Slurpees and Burrito Rollers, sign me the hell up!
I only hope one day I am as cool as King Vagrant the Valiant.
Tag: funny pictures
Yoga and Cupcakes
Hello All! It is me again. I have some exciting news! The pictures I took for the magazine have finally been edited and sent to me to use on my blog! This was way back in November, and I thought the day that I would get to share these on my blog would never come!
These pictures are the ones I wanted to be featured in the magazine. They were not the ones chosen, but, oh well, because even more importantly, I get to share them with my lovely readers!
I believe I shared already that modeling ain’t for no punk bitch. Let me reiterate, I give massive props to models. They are incredibly resilient and strong. I was exhausted after 4 hours of shooting in the same position!
The photographer actually took my crazy venture seriously, and he took some 400 pictures. He spent an hour just setting things up to look ‘just right’. I am eternally grateful.
Because, obviously, I am no model, I assumed he would snap a couple pictures and then move on to more serious projects. No, he was incredibly professional and kind.
Without further ado, I present to you the fruits of my “modeling” labor.
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Throwback Thursday-Why, Mom?
My mom recently gave me the school album she created when I first started preschool a bajillion years ago. It chronicles the years from preschool all the way to awkward 8th, with pictures, report cards, letters, and some of my first writing pieces (I wanted to be a teacher, and I didn’t want to grow up because you “hav to do taxs”). I guess she doesn’t want all of those precious, priceless memories anymore. I’m kinda hurt by that, Ma.
Anyway, I really have no place for the thing at home, so I took it to school. My students were dying to see what I looked like at their age. So, I gave them, what they deem, the most amazing “I’m Done” activity in all the history of “I’m Done” activities. They freaking love it. They love laughing at the fact I got a D in math in 7th grade. They find it amusing I had a problem with pushing my friends in preschool. They think the haircut my mom gave me in 4th grade is just a real laugh riot. It’s too bad they don’t know who Sally Jesse Raphael is, because then the joke would be really funny.
I’ll quit rambling and get on with my two Throwback Thursday photos I’ve titled, “Why, Mom??”
This is adorable-albeit-awkward-toothed-fabulous-haired-me. I adored my long, thick, Princess Jasmine hair. It was my most prized possession.
This is my-mom-was-sick-of-brushing-the-hair-of-a-screaming-crying-8-year-old-who-should-have-grown-some-balls-and-had-her-shit-together-enough-to-brush-her-own-damn-hair-but-she-didn’t-so-instead-she-got-Sally-Jesse-Raphael-hair-fuck-you-too-mom me.
Can you see the pain and anguish in my eyes?
