Flying to Portland, I notice water underneath and feel a great sadness that Pete, my rubber ducky, is not with me to share the moment.
Safely on the ground, the first thing I photographed was another camera. My metapowers are vast!
Madeline's bedroom window.
Her life is a constant game of cat and mouse with BB-gun snipers.
After several attempts to purchase a large bird for the sole purpose of eating this yellowjacket, I was resigned to the fact that we would be roommates.
Matt ponders fine art, politics, and whether or not his chapstick melted in his back pocket again.
Mike: Ca..Cap...Capitulate. It means to masturbate furiously with toothpaste. You're welcome.
And this was before the wine.
Madeline practices for the blind olympics. Next event: pedestrian slalom.
The Volkswagen corporation has my permission to use this in their ads. Provided they drive a Jetta full of cash into my driveway first. That is all.
Madeline (internal): Shit. I have Matt's chapstick in my pocket. Shit! It's melted. Wait, that smells like cherry. I love cherry.
Green is pretty.
There's nothing phallic about this picture.
We take a small detour to the Dagobah system.
Sean realizes he's not in Kansas anymore. Or ever before actually. He's not big on geography.
