Seattle Space Needle Reflection at Night

The Westin

 

It is what it is.

Pike Street

From Pike Place Market to 15th Avenue, I’ve probably logged more hours on Pike Street in the last decade than any other street in the world. My entire family knows every crack, dip, and imperfection along the entire stretch of Pike’s sidewalk, both sides.

This being the case, I’ve also probably made more pictures of Pike Street than any other street in the world.

This is one of them.

 

Goodbye Andy

Once upon a time, I had this friend named Andy Steiner. Andy was a nice guy who was known around Las Vegas for driving a purple-colored Jeep that he nicknamed, shit, I don’t remember, but that monstrosity definitely had a name.

Andy was an unusual guy who moved to Las Vegas years ago to capture what he could of the American Dream.

He was also one of the friendliest, most genuine dudes I’ve ever met, and if he had a mean or selfish bone in his body, I sure didn’t see it. That said, as a former cameraman in

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Don’t Talk to Me Like a Child

Back in the day, I played basketball, and in those days, I said this line at least 1,000 times … especially when an insult was cast in my direction.

Today, I stumbled upon what I consider to be my favorite commercial of all time. No, really, Taylor, imma let you finish, but this is the greatest commercial of all time! Of all time!

It’s a commercial which could be applied to so many facets of American life … but let’s face it, the industry will never touch 90% of them.

Anyway, without further ado …

Pictures of the Day

Downtown Seattle Skyline

 

Earth-killing Pollution Makes For Nice Sunsets

 

Airplane with Eagle Harbor, Bainbridge Island, and the Olympic Mountains in the Background

Ruh Roh There’s Climate Trouble Brewing

A generation of people who are too selfish to have children … who are admittedly “too selfish” to acquiesce to a biological norm which has been a primary driver of all animal behavior since the beginning of time … cares very, very, very deeply about the ecological health of the planet that your grandchildren will inherit.

That’s right, victims of a widespread narcissism epidemic, who are completely and utterly self-centered in all ways, make an exception to that self-centeredness when it comes to the water levels of the earth long after they are dead and buried.

They care so

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The 12th Man Blows It

$6.7 million per year.

Six million seven hundred thousand dollars per year, to tell some other guy to run the ball into the end zone from 18 inches away.

And you can’t even do that.

You can’t even fucking do that!

You suck, 12th Man, you suck like a black hole.

See, this is what happens when I try to fucking get into anything. I figured “if you can’t beat ’em, join ’em”, so I watched the game from beginning to end, and this was the result?

This?

Was the result?

This is what your 12th shit is all

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Culture Shock

Welcome to Seattle, my friend. Welcome to Seattle.

One often feels compelled to document their first Bremelo sighting, for they just don’t think the folks back home will believe them.

I Got Your “Seahawks” Right Here

 

Said one local seagull as he passed over a Washington State Ferry.

See, this, is a seahawk:

Handsome bird, no doubt, and probably fairly adept at hunting as well.

This, however, is what is ubiquitous in Seattle, outnumbering humans by about 2:1

This, you see, is a “Seagull” or a “Rollin’ 60’s Crip” if you happen to be a pigeon.

What it is not, is a seahawk. I’ve never seen a seahawk within the city limits of Seattle. I’m not sure I’ve ever seen one, period. Thus, our local corporate sports team name is a not

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