I bet that you look good on the dance floor. Don't know if you're looking for romance or... don't know what you're looking for.
It's been a most successful week. Shayna's friend Renee came to visit and it looks promising that she'll be moving here, possibly with us for the time being. I can't complain. She's a sweetheart. She bought us a dozen donuts this morning.
We ate them all.
My "lucky" t-shirt has finally started to prove itself, though it still has some living up to do. Shayna says it has magical qualities because of who sold it to her. I'd love to disagree, but he is pretty magical.
So it would seem.
Once they finally outlaw pigeon kicking I will become Chicago's most notorious pigeon kicker and finally fulfill my life-long goal of becoming an outlaw. I will be the outlawingest of them all.
Sparkly toys make the cat fly. I think we can finally start our circus. Shayna will be ringmaster and I can be a clown. I have no qualms about driving a clown car down Michigan Ave.
Chicago lacks viable street performers. They are few and far between, mostly homeless, and drowned out by the police force. Chicago's finest is making sure art doesn't show it's nasty face on our streets. You really have to be careful about that art. It's on our streets, right under our noses, and it's incredibly addictive. Talk to your children before they get mixed up with the wrong crowd.
I think Chicago needs a Covent Garden, or Millennium Pier, or Daam Square. We need a place for legit street performers to go. Me? I'm going to go marching up and down Belmont with my bagpipes. I don't want your money, I just want to disturb some peace.
No comments:
Post a Comment