ericgalatas's journal

He is, for lack of a better word, mangy. Unshaved, and his shirt permanently food stained.

If you make your way underneath the railroad tracks, where Broadway becomes Brighton Blvd, you'll invariably run into folks taking shelter from sun or other elements. The developed sidewalk along the underpass is wide, clean, new infrastructure, so it's a respectable spot to squat for a spell. Coming out from the underpass, your first chance to go left again is 29th street. Ride past the Salvation Army's bustling Crossroads facility, a destination for many of the area's homeless, 29th street leads you to a ramp down to the South Platte River bike trail.

i guess my fondness for dive bars, in large part, is thanks to my mother's proclivities.

during college, when i would go back home on holiday, there were usually one or two nights where we'd end up at one or more of Galveston's seedier establishments. and now that i'm older, i still take her out to the places that remain, and you don't have to twist her arm either.

so our dream congress has really got the mouse by the jugular this time.

they've actually approved subpoenas for Karl Rove and other senior white house officials. but they're not going to issue them, they want to use the _possibility of subpoena_ as leverage as they investigate the firings of eight U.S. attorneys.