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Two accused about to have their day in court. Their shuffle with the ankle cuffs spoke of shame unredeemed. Tinted because I took the picture through my custom spy window. I quickly moved my van because I don't feel comfortable sleeping next to the court building. |
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This Bull Mastiff just ate my moped. I went to Kittery to look for work at a lobster pound and was told to come back in a month. I ended up buying some designer clothes at a thrift store, helped move furniture into a building, bought an apple and a tangerine, learned about the unglamorous pawn trade in Kittery ("I just need money for gas. I'm having the worst week of my life. sniff. I've got a two year old at home and...$30 for my engagement ring? Ok.") |
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Pictured is an AJs prosciuto slice with white sauce. This was damn good but I followed it up with a slice from Savario's on State Street and I have to admit that Frank Catalino knows how to sling a slice for $1.25. His daughter graduated from PHS and is one of the rare talents that is making it work in the real world. "I taught my kids to do whatever brings them joy. There are more important things than money," said Frank, who is spending his retirement happily making pizza. |
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More advice from the Memorial Bridge. For once, I did as I was told. |
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What you see here is the remains of a gluten free peanutbutter and chocolate chip cookie from Ceres St. Bakery. Now, I'm not alergic to gluten. I don't even know what gluten is. But I do know that every time I get a gluten free something I usually love it. This delicacy is no exception. It's not doughy, but it is chewy and sweet but doesn't fill up my decaying teeth like normal cookies like the gross expired Lorns Doones I bought the other night from Richardson's. I think I personally shelved those cookies in 1989 when I worked there the summer before going to Alaska. Ceres St. Bakery won't dissapoint. |
Naval Shipyard hard at work without me.
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On the way to the library a car broke down in front of me. I ran out to direct traffic as a woman in nurse scrubs pushed. Then we pushed it into the fire depatment parking lot.
"Run out of gas?" I asked.
"Belt," she said simply.
I have all the tools in the world to fix this, even if a pulley seized, but the two women were not interested in being damsels in distress so I left as it started to rain on my designer clothes.