Giddyap, my little brony.
Tenderloin cuts.
The Tenderloin, San Francisco, California, United States of America.
They came out of the tunnel and asked directions to the bridge.
A story about a little animal print chair in the big city, and the people he meets. A choose-your-own-adventure kind of tale for today’s chair.
To sleep the sleep of geometry!
To snooze snug against a hypotenuse!
A doze by degrees, that is the dream for me.
Gotta go, baby, my ride is here.
Don’t look for the sense of a thing. Acceptance is your only path.
He’s got an idea for a sitcom. A baseball team. A cast of goofs living in a house just off Alamo Square. Lovable losers, lotharios and scamps: people just eat that stuff up with a spoon.
Witnesses to whippits and the beer pong league, we had to ask ourselves: how much does it cost to attend Cow Hollow U?
The impenetrable loneliness of personal pan pizza, pizza meant for one.
Portrait of a white-lipped panhandler photoblocking me while I attempt to shoot a woman in head-to-toe fur walking up Stockton.
In case you wondered what the one-man mobile embodiment of an AM radio talk show might look like.
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