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The pole 

I have a life, too, you know

Few people acknowledge it, but wooden poles are an extremely important part of the entertainment community. Aside from keeping electrical lines out of reach from kids and idiots, they provide a constant place for artists and publicists alike to advertise their shows. We visited a pole on Euclid Avenue that helps keep the scene in Little Five Points alive, so it's time we pay homage.

I love it when people forget to take signs down for shows that have already happened, because then I get to see people get excited about a show they think is coming, and then get upset when they realize it already came, and they missed it and therefore suck.

People think just because I'm an inanimate object that I don't feel, but they're wrong. I feel, man. I feel very deeply. Staples fucking hurt.

I've had as many as 107 signs and posters on me at one time. But I don't mind all the paper, it's the bubble gum that pisses me off. I try to put a splinter into the finger of anyone who gums me, unless it's watermelon flavored -- then I enjoy it.

I like being in L5P because I get to people watch all day, and you should see some of the freak shows walking around this neighborhood.

One time some artist spent four hours drawing on me in chalk. Twenty minutes after she finished, it rained and she started to cry. I laughed as I thought, "That's what you get, you hippie. Who said I wanted to be doused in the turquoise-periwinkle blend of recollected images from your acid trip anyway?" I mean, I'm a pole; I have an image to uphold. Straight pine, homey.

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