Don’t think I had terrible time. I didn’t. However, because I am who I am, the following images represent what I was drawn to — or at least what I thought would be easier to photograph.
Ruins of an ancient civilization, apparently.
“Get in, kids!”
This might be the most stereotypical piece of Prohibition-era bar flare ever, but I’m still amused.
And then I met the King of Beers — but, like, the actual guy. He asked me about bringing him a baby to help him escape his painted prison, but I said no.
Had this happy kitty cat asked me for anything, however, I would have happily complied.
Not a family member.
Probably not a family member. Also, this photograph was not taken at a yard sale or thrift store. However, the spot photographed always looks like this nonetheless.
Windmills, immobile and laid on the ground. I feel like this image belongs on a card you send to people you don’t like.
Drink Rainier Beer. But more importantly, respect cyan planetoids that may be hovering around.
“Why yes, I would like to see your Sleepaway Camp shower stall.”
Mystery machine (non-Scooby Doo version)
And, as with all things, it ended with a dog.
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