Why get in a bar fight with your hands...

when you can use your thumbs! Who said thumb wrestling wasn't a manly sport? Especially with a paint by numbers mural in the background. And a man with a bullhorn. Don't mess with Seattlites.


Ps My five foot tall homegirl with tiny thumbs won the round. :)

Feed Me Seymour.

Those southerners have all the fun.

With everyone on edge about a storm approaching in the gulf, I thought it important to point out that in malls throughout Seattle people are paying $2 to be whipped about in a wind tunnel at approximately 150 miles an hour to experience the awesomeness and wrath of a tropical cyclone. A hub for natural disasters- volcanoes, tsunamis, landslides, and earthquakes- the northwest apparently does not get its fill of hurricanes and Seattlites feel, well, left out. Boo.

Edward Scissorhands and iphones don't mix

Innocently waiting for the bus downtown, I was traumatized by what I first thought was a rerun of Tales from the cript, but in actually was a nail salon's window display. First, the size of the nails themselves (good god those things could poke your eye out), then the cobwebs between them. But worse than that was the thought that these people could get their hands on my iphone. With those fingernails?

If you lived here, you'd be home now

It's kind of hard to tell, but that purple door is most definitely shorter than I (5'4'') am. Also, making this significantly weirder is that the man in the picture is putting a large plastic mannequin in his trunk. Ten seconds too late on capturing that! Dang.

They Use Lint Rollers On Their Dogs

Goldberg's Delicatessen (at Factoria mall)

Ive (finally) found a Jewish deli that serves nice honey baked ham sandwiches and BLTs.

Multitasking

This is not a good picture but it's the best I could do while driving, working hard not to look like a stalker, and trying to keep up with.... the woman riding her bicycle while walking her dog on a leash!

U Send Me

A drive through for a dry cleaning place? Really, is this necessary? And then there is the sign. What is this about? Swing lyrics, perhaps? Oh Seattle, you have my heart already. There really is no need to keep up the strangeness.

Ho's before Joe's

Interpretation:

You can come in here naked but you can not get coffee.

You can come in here fully dressed but can not wear a bikini. You still can not get coffee.

You can get coffee but don’t expect to get a barista. Not even if you come in here naked.

I am not sure which is worse, no ladies in bikinis or no coffee? Seattle, why do you make me make such hard decisions sometimes?

Where Bad Marketing Ideas and Bad Food Come to Die (and sometimes people?)

Known to the locals as "Gross Out", this is the place to go if you want some bling fruit roll ups to match your new purse, carpeting, or old sticker collection.

I Think I Should Change This Blog To "WeirdCarsSeattle"

How To Find Real Happiness

Unicorns! I mean, unicones? A friend and I have some time to kill in the International District and we get the idea to get us some cone-shaped crepes, which I have been told about. I look on Yelp on my phone to find the place and notice there are two listings for the same place. One is called Unicorn Crepes and one is called Unicone Crepes. Same place. Hmm, ok. I wonder if it was once called Unicorn but if that was confusing because the crepes are cone shaped? Are people confused about whether they are eating an actual cone from an actual unicorn? Inside are some of the most interesting crepes I have ever seen. Some are less appetizing than others. Oooh, and a there is a neat little coffee machine that also makes chai tea and plumb, whatever plumb is. Plumb juice? Did I mention there is an amazing teeny bop Asian music video on, and that there is actually a unicorn in there? (a remnant from the old place?)

I get home and there is mail for me. Ooh, I love mail! I especially love handwritten mail. Wait, this is some creepy business. G.A. Skipworth? What the? This might be the weirdest and creepiest piece of mail I have ever received in my life. Come to the local kingdom? Why, Mr. Skipworth, that sounds like a place where there might just be come unicorns. What, there are clouds there? And angels? What, this is actually a letter from the Jehovah's Witness people (I googled your return address. Don't you know me at all?). Listen, Mr. Skipworth, I really don't need to discuss how to find real happiness, ok? I know exactly where to find it. On 6th Ave and King St, in the I.D., at the Unicone/Corn, where the chai tea/coffee/plumb? drinks are free with the purchase of a cone/corn.

Something Fishy

I went to a potluck last night. There was homemade cake and other yummy hippy treats, which was not a surprise. I have become accustomed to seeing vegan cupcakes and gluten free lasagna and herb infused soda and what not. But wait, are those sardines? Weird. But something else is weird. What is it? Something is off. I feel weird. It must be because I'm getting older. Yes, that it is. Im 28 and everyone here is in their early twenties. I am old and Im going to forever be at parties where people keep getting younger and younger and I keep getting older and older until I am 80 and have a baby in my lap and we are singing if you are happy and you know it clap your hands. Hours later it started coming to me, in waves at first. Sixth grade, all over again. There were guys there. There were guys and girl there. There were guys and girls and they were talking to each other and laughing and there were board games from the 80's and Pringles. This is a coed party! Phew. I felt better. It wasn't me. And looking back, those sardines were kind of comforting in a way. They sort of seem like something I might just see at a queer party after all.

Show and Tell

This just came in my CSA box. I am not sure if I should sing little love songs to it and coo at it or take it to the aquarium and throw it in the large tank with the sea monkeys, eels, and catfish. I read the description and I am assured that this is not GM hell after all. These things really do exist in the wild. It even has a name, Romanesco. I think, though, that I will still club it from a distance with my iphone. Take that, alien vegetable baby!

Those Seattlites And Their Cars