if elijah wood is playing iggy pop, who will play frodo?

Possibly my favourite picture ever captured with my Christmas cam-cam, taken in a park on the way to lunch at Eat Me with my world-travelling pal Chris:
















The ring was prawly tossed off seconds before the wearer's romantic partner, but one man's trash, etc., so I cleaned the ring with rubbing alcohol and now wear it with glee.
















It fits perfectly! No ring ever fits my beefy fingers. I love this ring. Its discovery seems fated somehow. But I've been warned to be careful...

this one's all paul

Here's an object that stymied the normally unstymiable Paul: "Is it a shirt? I wasn't going to touch it to find out -- I just passed a dead squirrel that I had to look at a little too long before realizing what it was."





















Haaaaaaaaaa!

Some things are just that dirty.

In all seriousness, though, I would like to dedicate this entry to the squirrel whom I think I heard dying in my wall last week. It was the first moment in my storied relationship with the wall-squirrels -- not the scrabbling, not the growling, not the sitting audaciously on our kitchen table and eating pears out of the basket -- where I was compelled to recognize our shared, erm, humanity. This is for you.

i wanna be found

'S'been a fortnight since my last post, and the reasons are both myriad and dull. For the sake of narrative, let's just say I was carried away by a horde of thick-ankled Portuguese women, wearing dark stockings and trailing clouds of heavy perfume, on their way home from church.

Today I am channelling the spirit of Found Magazine and throwing my own guidelines to the proverbial wind. All the photos below, minus Paul's contribution at the bottom (so, all two of 'em), were taken away from the place where I discovered them, so that I could get my zoom on without lying on my stomach in the hallway or on the ice. (This will all make sense momentarily.)

Okay, the first one: I found this note on the hallway floor at 401 Richmond. It wasn't from the studio where I work, but I understood it immediately. (I am a proofreader; that is what I do.)

Far more fantastic than the above is the below, which I spotted while at the Harbourfront skating rink. It was lying face down, cut out with care from a larger photo, so it almost disappeared against the white of the ice. I photographed it against a piece of lined paper (meta-photo!), so you can get a sense of its dimensions.

And, last, one for the Paul Gallery: a not-quite-empty bottle of Crown Royal worthy of a post-Impressionist rendering:

Later, kids!