with possible connections to the mob

Yes, there WAS a pawn shop on Clark between Superior and Chicago. And of course, the neon beacon in the night of "Stop and Drink" (now the Clark St. Ale House.) Oh, and the Greek diner with possible connections to the mob, Mr. G's.

http://forgottenchicago.com/forum/read.php?1,647

Let's get lost

Outta business, baby.
Like nowheresville.
Gone, daddy, gone.
Nobody home.
Splitsville.
Out of time, out of space,
no time left,no sense of place.
Erase your face.
End of the race.
Negativeland, negative space.
Gone.

http://www.flickr.com/photos/86125374@N00/sets/72157604356700936/

buggy whip boutique?

Ther﹣esa says:
"I don't think there's much work for vcr repairmen anymore."

And here I was hoping to franchise a chain of typewriter/8-track/vcr repair shops! Guess I'll just go back to developing my buggy whip boutique concept...

http://www.flickr.com/photos/86125374@N00/2418076954/

Ich bin a jelly roll!

"Hey, don't dis the Pei -- he "rocks" (as in the Rock & Roll Hall of Fame.) And of course, he who lives in glass pyramids shouldn't throw rocks -- he should employ robots to wash his windows. Until recently, I lived in I.M. Pei's University Park complex ("Monoxide Island") in the middle of 55th Street in Hyde Park. Ich bin a jelly roll!"

http://www.flickr.com/photos/m500/2329212414/
(click on Kneejerky to catch my stream)

I "heart" bricks

This is a love letter to the city of broad shoulders, broads, and pork shoulders. She's had plastic surgery, but the nose is still broken.

I like bricks, and, Jack, she's a brick house. She's a skirt steak, free fries with a shake. She's got the meat and the motion. So I'd like to know where you got the notion.

Cheap rents,
sleeping in tents
attention, gents,
that's my bottle.

Old-man bars,
rust-bucket cars,
pennies in jars
for your thoughts.

Hanging around,
nothing to do but frown,
rainy days and mundanes
always get me down.

Fly dump on a
dry hump day.
Don't sit there like a lump.
Don't be a chump.

Punch Drunk
went out to lunch
with a sucker punch,
he had a hunch
it was a supper club.

A 5 o'clock shadow falls over a stumblebum corner. Pull down the shades and call the coroner.

A shave and a shine,
come back to the five and dime,
you got more than a Dollar in Store,
Mr. Woolworth.

Hubcaps and cheap sox,
raindogs sleeping in a box,
"cheat you fair" --what do you care?
Shut the door and check the locks.

Dig -- she plays the squeeze box,
cold as an icebox,
their eyes lock
in a street shot.

http://www.flickr.com/photos/86125374@N00/

GlueTube

"I don't know. I find the visual experience of YouTube to be on par with watching old kinoscopes on a screen the size of a slice of toast (not that I didn't waste a few days myself when I first discovered it -- just as I also lost an entire weekend to MTV when I first experience that in 1980.) Still, that experience, that is "Music Television" and all its spawn, was a superior presentation (at least audio-visually) to watching the often seriously degraded vintage videos uploaded to GlueTube."

http://www.post-punk.com/ppvideos.html

play Misty

"Makes one wonder what Mr. Bates' deeper psychological motivations are. He spends 10 years stalking street walkers and johns to nail 'em with a gotcha. He wraps his self-described vigilante "crusade" with a morally motivated, not religious, justification. Just wondering, does the Video Vigilante secretly "get off" on his voyerism of other people's depraved and degrading behavior?"

http://www.youtube.com/comment_servlet?all_comments&v=_SU4rg0zifk&fromurl=/watch%3Fv%3D_SU4rg0zifk