day 8.

It's not that I feel anything approaching spirit animal kinship with the raccoon. Quite the opposite; I'm actively afraid of raccoons. It's not the symbolism of the masked animal. It's not any kind of political statement. It's not even that I find them visually compelling, although I do. My love for the raccoon has no defined foundation, but the stickers and stencils and paintings of street artist JustOneRaccoon have become totemic for me since I moved into this neighborhood. Whenever I see a new one, I photograph it and post it to Instagram. I don't really need to look for them anymore; I can almost hear them. My peripheral vision is tuned to the raccoon. I'll even notice the outlines where there used to be a raccoon head sticker and someone peeled it. There's a fresh batch of designs starting to crop up now, and I have the fizzy anticipation of the fanatic every time I go out somewhere new. It's always raccoon season.

roving reporters of the weird

More phone pics.

This is my favorite stencil art ever. On West Wilson.

Yes, friends, that is a DumDum lollipop plugging the neck of an abandoned half-empty liquor bottle. At least, I hope it's liquor. In front of a Red Eye paperbox, no less. That's poetry.

Kill your tv.

On the menu at Renaldi's Pizza.

This gem is courtesy of Leslie. I found a similar one the Sunday of the Renegade Holiday show that said "I think I'm safe now," but didn't upload it before my cell phone broke. This one's much
better, anyway.

From a tab after a summer breakfast with Leslie.
That is one sweet upcharge.