This isn’t a real post, it’s just a few drawings of people I’ve seen around Everett. This town has such a rich, diverse population. Just like New York, I’m sure.

Yes. Everett is exactly like New York City. So much beauty.

“The kid wasn’t using it right, anyways.”

Sometimes I’ll catch this delightfully rotund gentleman cruising around Garfield park on his tiny, tiny motorcycle, fat folds rippling in the breeze and an expression of such concentrated disdain on his face, I can only imagine he’s chasing down the bastard who stole his car. Or his Rascal. But really, I’m guessing he just stole this from some poor kid and uses it when he need to run out for more chew. I’m guessing his driver’s license isn’t all up to date.

“It’s not his day, and it’s not his corner.”

Of all the bodies that haunt my little corner of Broadway, the hookers and meth heads and perfectly normal people walking to the unSafeway, this pair of competing bananas is my favorite. Why on earth would you need a banana suit to draw attention to your Cash 4 Gold store? What does the banana suit have to do with either of those things!? And, more importantly, why are there sometimes two of you? Does it get lonely, being a banana? These are the questions that keep me up at night.

One day, God willing, these two guys will break into a fight…or a dance routine. And how great would THAT be?

“I’m whittling.” “What are you whittling?” “I’m whittling this here wood.”

This is the man who will one day drag me into his basement and feed me nothing but fish heads and lotion until I go mad. He lives at the gravel lot where I park for work and everyday he stands out in that lot, or sits in a crumbling adirondack chair, keeping company with a one eyed cat I live in fear of driving over. In the summer, he does this mostly naked. And he whittles. Or, at least, he holds a knife and a small piece of wood at the same time. I’m really hoping he’s whittling.

I keep telling myself, no one who loves cats that much could really be crazy…right?