hipstomp photo essays

Day 172

Today’s soundtrack:
When all the ladies heard that Stack, oh that Stack O’Lee was dead
Some come dressed in orange colors and some come dressed in red.
Today at 6:02pm: At Met Foods, purchasing the perfect eggplant.

Hello and welcome to my home.

If you want to use the bathroom just ask, but do me a favor and don’t touch anything.

This is a bunch of pigeons commuting home. We call them “flying rats” because they are dirty. Not just in body, but in mind as well. And for some reason god gave them wings so they can defecate on you from above. “Flying rats.”

These are sleeping surfaces constructed for homeless people to sleep on. When they are unoccupied, if you like you can sit on them and have lunch and read the paper and so forth.

The city has thoughtfully erected sun-dials on every corner, so you can tell the time. But hooligans often deface the sun-dials by attaching signs emblazoned with stupid slogans like BROADWAY and HESTER, or placards suggesting good times to park.

They keep sidewalk monsters behind fences in parking lots in Brooklyn. The sidewalk monsters are dangerous beasts who exist only to destroy.

This is a beacon that was erected off Northern Boulevard in the hopes of enticing a U.F.O to land at Ray’s Stuttgart Auto Body and Collision. Ray’s carries fenders and extra parts for domestic, foreign and alien.

Buildings don’t understand mirrors. When buildings see their reflection, they often think they are looking at other buildings. Sometimes if you shake the block they’ll fight.

Buildings are so stupid.

But not this one.