Sunday, November 20, 2011

saturday night

when we got off the train we had a short walk to meet our friends steve and jodie. it turns out we were eating inside a giant boob. if you've ever wondered what a nipple and areola look like from the inside, this is it:

pretty sure the lights are just for decoration.

the ultra-wide angle lens does funny things to people on the outside edges when you're up close.

sorry guys. while some people's heads were being warped, bebe patiently awaited her food. i think she ordered a greasy NYC burger with a pile of fries. 

but then this came:

"there must be... some mistake."

stevie jumped right in to run damage control almost immediately- 'check under that cantaloupe. is that the tip of a french fry i see?'



eventually chicken woke up. it might have been when mommy spilled that hot coffee on her. just kidding. she was awake before that happened. just kidding, she didn't spill her coffee. just kidding, she's not really awake anyway. just kidding, she is. 

sooooo... there are certain things i find myself taking pictures of over and over, sort of my go-to subject matter when in certain settings. i'm featuring many of them here and on the photoblog for the duration of the brooklyn posts. they tend to be people doing funny things in public, water towers, looking up in general (there's a lot going on up there, people), subways, people riding subways, cool light fixtures or patterns, other people taking pictures of things... the list goes on. paper napkin lipstick kisses:

aaaaand a water tower. just 'for instance.'

bebe just absolutely needed to ride this scary ass thing. i'm sure she didn't smile or anything, it just sort of sucked her in with it's maniacal eyeballs. it sort of reminds me of the children's book the heroes find in stephen king's Dark Tower series- the one with blaine the train (pain). something made for kids, meant to be fun, but in actuality terrifying. LOOK AT HIS TEETH! good lord.

this gentleman had an entire, no, make that THE entire Michael Jackson dance routine, and he was WORKING it. he even did a moonwalk, which i can tell you from experience, is DAMN HARD in loafers. but he pulled it off. i wish i knew which song he was listening to...

eventually we made it to Lincoln Center:

we said goodbye to steve and jodie, and made our way into the big top. under the big top? we went to the circus. in a big tent. you know what i'm meaning...

i used to be able to just stroll up into the circus and shit. 'stroller check?' i'd say as i rolled my eyes and got in line for cotton candy (pink is the best). 'i don't need no stroller check.' then me and my firends would all high five and laugh uproariously as we made our way to the front row (you can see the clowns the best). let me tell you, those days are over. i stroller checked this time around. what a drag.

okay, but seriously- the high point of an already great performance was getting to meet Grandma Clown! it turns out that aunt marge did a story for ABC on The Big Apple Circus a few years ago, and she got to be friends with GC. if you're wondering who Grandma Clown is and what the big deal was, then you'd be me before all this shit went down. let me just say that Grandma Clown is to The Big Apple Circus what Pee Wee Herman was to Pee Wee's Playhouse. no, not a public masturbator. THE STAR. these pics courtesy of aunt marge, kindly used without permission:

like all proper clowns, Grandma immediately threatened to bite bebe's face. "i'll crush your skull!" she's saying here. note that bebe has recoiled appropriately.

in all seriousity, barry (grandma's alter-ego) was really nice and bebe talked about herm for days afterward. and the show was great (ask me about the chick that rode a rope)!

bebe got all "nineties rave" with her souvenir light-up butterfly techno chipmunk glow wand. it's what she picked out. i got a t-shirt. mommy got a mug.

what uncle ben got was a crash course in daddy boot camp. he pushed the stroller, carried the bag, tended the baby... all the things he'll soon be doing for his own son or daughter. and he did a great job!

right eloise? 
"blah blah blah."

oh, eloise.

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