City Strolling

First my lovelies, you’ve got one week left to send me your stories for a chance to win your very own original Elly artwork.  When you win, you can make fun of my penchant for glitter on Craftastrophe.

Speaking of which, it’s Monday – which means I spent the weekend trolling the Interwebz for frightening crafts.  This one is so weird I don’t even have a snarky comment.

I have a house guest and a hangover, so I’m taking the wicked lazy route with today’s post.  Webster 7.0 and I spent the weekend traipsing around the city.  I’m just going to share a few of the photos we took together.

Sadly, I didn’t manage to capture an elderly Elvis crossing the street wearing his sassy leather chaps crossing the street in Chelsea.  Webster was too slow to snap a photo of the three girls on the corner of 17th and 8th Ave as they took turns dipping their white plastic spoons into a jar of Marshmallow Fluff and licking them clean.  I actually vomited a little when one girl coated her slice of cheese pizza with a frothy mound of the stuff.

Sometimes the freaks come out during the day, too.

When Couples Buy Shoes Together

A Shop in the Flower District

Vacant Bar Near Penn Station

See?  Short and sweet.  Now go write a story with all that time you didn’t spend reading my blog today.  Just…do it quietly, ok?  My head hurts.


  1. That bracelet…..I dreamed about it just the other night, well, really it was more a nightmare than a dream…..and it wasn’t so much a bracelet as a horse, with hundreds of eyeballs, chasing me….and it might have had 9 legs, too……and a couple of guns….and I may have had a couple (or 12 drinks)….but other than that… was just like that bracelt….
    .-= Wicked Shawn´s last blog ..The Love List…Because I Love Lists =-.

  2. ok I’ll whisper…thanks for the nightmares…clowns have now just taken a back seat.

    That is one huge step for clown kind, I assure you.

    1. Did I not mention that those are clown eyes on the bracelet? Yup. Fresh eyes carved from baby clowns with rusty grapefruit spoons.

  3. The words of my friend Black Francis come to mind.
    Something about slicing up eyeballs and being a debaser.
    Anyway, I actually showed this one to my kids and only two out of three ran away.
    .-= Kelly´s last blog ..Hanging It Up =-.

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