Friday, August 26, 2005

ominous jingle

of the ice cream truck. all i can think of now when I hear that sound is that they are selling little crack vials, small bags of DOA, etc. The drug dealing ice cream truck. It can't be that prevalant, can it?

17 comments:

Anonymous said...

The ominus jingle in the concrete jungle. I don't know about the crack-sicles...it is a possibility!

fairy butler said...

ugh pd. for some reason i can't stop thinking terrible thoughts about the ice cream trucks. and our resident crazy guy/drug addict who has been missing for the past several months is back. I just had the unpleasure of running into him out front. I thought I snuck by but he circled back and let me know that he was watering our plants - with am empty coke can full of water from the fire hydrant. he says he's been grooming them and stuff. uh, ......okay. I said something like "yeah, I probably need to come out her and give them a big watering but thanks for looking out for em." ?? eyes are pinpricks, lumbering gait. ugh. i want to be nice but do not trust. plus if you encourage then it is 15 minutes later full of stories of kurt cobain or life story or what have you.

fairy butler said...

i have been checking outside before venturing lately in case he is out there. he's harmless, just annoying. he is loud so usually we can just hear him.

fairy butler said...

one time he asked arthur to take some pictures of him and his band down by the railroad tracks. a said sure. ? it never happened of course. and he invited us to come with him to see Devo in central park.

fairy butler said...

the scary thing is this is all 100% true.

Anonymous said...

A while back there was an ice cream truck sting operation. they were selling crack in the middle of the night out of the trucks. I was always wondering why there was the ice cream jingle at 12 in moring. Kids sleep then right?
that sucks about your village idiot. I have one in my building. He sits on the stoop drinking beers all day. Once there was a sign up that said there were many assaults in the neighborhood going down. I was there when he read the sign, mumbled "sissies," tore it down, and crumpled up. A great citizen and a smelly prize to run into. Sometimes I go to the corner store for beer and he'll be in there sitting on a folding chair. he doesn't work there. He always seems really mad.

Anonymous said...

There are three crack-heads that hang around near my studio building asking for change. They can get quite nasty. One of them usually refers to me (and others who do not give $) as "the white devil."

Anonymous said...

this is possibly my future if I keep this up.

fairy butler said...

me too hams, me too.

update: so last night a & I leave to go out and meet some folks around 8. guess who is outside digging in a trash can muttering to himself. A is a good guy, as we walk pass he says, "hey, what's up johnny, how you doing?" they slap hands (same hand that's been in trash). johnny tells us he is going to see the dead boys tonight at midnight. i think of replies but keep to myself. arthur does not get bent out of shape. i'm a freak because j's presence is jarring. what is he doing in the trash? ugh.

fairy butler said...

i need to be more smooth like a

Anonymous said...

FB, I had a dream you were the lead singer of a honky tonk band. You guys were good. You were playing in a coffee shop. You played the zither.

Anonymous said...

FB, you need not engage in chit-chat with mr. trash man. Arthur has it under control.

Anonymous said...

PD is right. You don't have to talk to the crack-pots in your hood.

I just watched the VMAs (don't ask.) Sad to see that you and your honky tonk zither band were not there representin'.

Anonymous said...

Hello my lovely FB pal. Hope you are ok today!

fairy butler said...

i am restless like the wind during a hurrycane, but otherwise swellish.

Anonymous said...

Restlessness is a state I am well-acquainted with. I am playing rock scissors paper with myself. Each angst registers in my tum.

fairy butler said...

i just want cocktails and lollygagging. the sweet call of alcoholism, a tender lullaby.