Jun 092011
 

It’s been a busy day/week. I want to tell you guy(s) about my absinthe experience and I also have an old school Henry & Erin video that does not feature any nudity or any acts even remotely resembling fornication, contrary to what Henry’s ex might want you to think, but it’s taking Henry like a month to finish editing it because apparently he has “more important things to do.” Like what? Like watch NCIS on On Demand, is what.

So here are some photos from last Saturday when Henry and I got brave and took our child downtown for the annual art festival, even though we know from past years that this is A Big Mistake because hello, Chooch in a China Store, OK? I’m pretty certain Pittsburgh as a whole hated us after that. Chooch can be such a fucking dick, it’s not even funny.

I’m a fan of juxtaposition.

I call this one: Douchebag with an Ice Cream Cone.

One of those fucking awesome bridges I love so much.

These people are just really fabulous, super-religious, anti-white race zealots with their own show on public access that I enjoy watching when I can’t find any good horror-porn on cable. One night when I was leaving work, they were filming their show on a sidewalk outside of the Law Firm and I had to walk past them. They were hootin’ and hollerin’ about Scripture and waving about Christ signs; it was scarier than an un-inspected ride at the county fair, but I was most afraid of the chance I was going to show up in the background of one of their hostile telecasts.

On this particular day, they were starting race wars in Market Square.

“Don’t take their pict—-” Henry started to plead, but he was cut off by the snapping of my camera.

Afterward, we ate dinner at Mexico City. I checked both Henry and myself in on Facebook, but couldn’t resist adding, “Stuffing Henry’s asshole with satchels of cocaine.”

“Another restaurant we’ll never be able to come back to,” he mumbled when he saw it on his phone.

Burning off pent-up brat-juice at Bessemer Court.

Henry had to literally drag Chooch, kicking and screaming, through the parking lot afterward. It was really fucking awesome, not exhausting or exasperating AT ALL. Five-year-olds are fucking dickheads. Cute, but fucking dickheads.

  One Response to “Art Festival Photo Filler”

  1. Love “Douchebag with an Ice Cream Cone.”

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