I love snooty neighborhoods, because deep down if I wasn’t so poor and weird looking I would be a snob. It’s true! Hard to believe, I know! If I had loads of cash and was good looking I would be even WORSE than I am now. I long to live in big houses on tree lined lanes with two German sedans in the garage and a greyhound and two spoiled children, both quarterbacks, and a wife plotting to murder me in my sleep with a Revolutionary War rapier. I want people to clean up those god damned leaves. I want to turn away girl scouts from the door, telling them, no I will not buy their confections as they have lost touch with Jesus. I want to play golf in tennis clothes, and tennis in womens clothes. I want to go up to Jeff Gianola at “the club” and casual say to him, “I got some news for you, chief: you stink.” I want to make a fortune, then lose a fortune, then make it back again. That way they can’t call me Nouveau Rich, because it’s complicated. I want to complain about my tax bracket, squander my health care, not care about the little guy. I’ll be a patron of the arts, just as long as those arts don’t make me think. I want fifty yard line seats at the Civil War and court side seats at the Rose Garden. Have some of my ten thousand dollar wine. I’ll make them name a hall after me, donate to change the name of Burnside to “Gothside”. Make Sam Adams do a boogie dance. Call the Governor on all his shit. Let the president know I’m on to him. Tell the Big Man Upstairs that money talks and bullshit walks!

Anyway, I love this neighborhood. Photos taken Wed, Nov 4th 2009.

Flickr slideshow is jealous of my smarty-pants captions! Read those here, or else.