Coupla random Stamford spots, and more reasons that I NEED a digi:

Yesterday, walking up Atlantic to the bank on the corner, saw the crazy crossdresser again. Only seen him a couple of times, but try to picture a skinny, ghostly pale hunched fifty-something man with long black hair and a drooping moustache wearing a black dress printed with red roses, silver haircombs set at right angles to his head so as to resemble the wings on comic book Thor's helmet, and a pair of white keds, carrying a cream-colored purse. First off, none of the shit matches. Secondly, the utter paleness of all that dude's exposed skin is actually startling enough that you don't notice the dress at first. No offense to a fellow human being who's just working his shit out, but yuck.

Second, today, sitting in the park, drunk dude in a NY State Lottery t-shirt and meshback sitting on one of the benches set along Bedford Street, yelling at any cute young chick that walked by (on my side of the park, a block away on Prospect), blasting lounge lizard soulless soul from a cheapjack boom box and capping his afternoon frolic by taking a whiz on a bush in full sight of, well, me and pretty much everybody else.

Stamford's one classy-ass town.