Charm City Shoot.

I bet I just fooled you because this is not about gunfire.

SMF and I went here earlier in the week and, while waiting for our food, this crew showed up.


The Hipster is wearing scrubs and eavesdropping on Guy's heartbeat with a stethoscope while he eats some sort of pulled meat sandwich covered in what I hope was the Kansas City Sweet sauce. Hat looks on while Bald shoots. No explanation needed. This makes perfect sense.


Of course, no mention of Baltimore would be complete without an allusion to crime, poverty, and despair. Oh, by the way, please enjoy these dancing Crackheads:





On a completely unrelated note -- because I do not work in Baltimore, nor do I evoke inferences -- one of my students told me I was "funny as a motherfucker" today. It was so sweet I decided to include the same high praise in any recommendation letters he might later request.

Breakfast: having the best week ever.

Breakfast put the smack down on both Michael Phelps and Chris Brown this week when, outraged by images of a twentysomething using recreational drugs (on a college campus), Kellogg's retracted their Phelps endorsement, and milk told Chris Brown he was a little too hitty and bitey to be the face of strong teeth and bones.

But, breakfast, you're pulling me in two separate directions. Milk, I think you did the right thing as, until yesterday, I knew Chris Brown only as the dancing choad in that gum commercial that looks like an iPod commercial. But, Kellogg's, who do you think buys Froot Loops, Eggo waffles, and EL Fudge cookies?

Olympians. That's who.

I haven't felt this conflicted over breakfast since my parents' divorce. Nonetheless, if there's one thing we can all agree on, I think it's that breakfast is the most important meal of the day.