Girls, please don’t hand your hair to each other + sinkholes!

I’m really glad everyone has given up trying to spell correctly. Otherwise, I’d never run across gems like the sign I passed this morning.


Leave that hair alone!

How does one pass tresses? Does this refer to human hair, or are wigs included? Can we pass clippings? Is there a maximum length of clip before it becomes a tress, and therefore not passable? Is there an NGO in charge of the no hair passing rule? Are there more precise instructions somewhere on the internets?

My regular readers know that I periodically show off Detroit’s bad ass potholes. Today, I encountered two “potholes” that really deserve their own category.


Here’s the first one I spotted today:


Sinkhole One

This one’s on Kercheval, near Fischer. It also serves as a sort of ad hoc recycling bin.


Sinkhole One – demonstration of depth

Since I don’t carry a yardstick with me, I used my leg for reference. About 1/4 to 1/2 of a mile farther along, I pulled up next to this beauty.


Sinkhole Two

There’s a good reason you can’t see how deep it is.  I put my foot into it, then calf, thigh, hip and never hit bottom.  The following photo isn’t the greatest, but you’ll have to cut me some slack, as I was in the middle of a road with my leg stuck in a hole, and didn’t want to get run over. Voila:  Sinkhole Two.


My foot never touched bottom.

An early entry, but clearly a contender for the TDH sinkhole of the year award.

Don’t get the wrong impression. Today was a lovely day in the Hood, and I enjoyed a wonderful cappuccino at the  Avalon Bakery, as is my wont. I also had a nice chat with the effervescent Joe Posch, who, since he shaved off his moustache and got a haircut, now looks like Matthew Fox, instead of Errol Flynn.


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