A wacky parade, a walk in the park, hippies. Welcome Summer.
High fashion invades Santa Barbara.
The streets were closed to keep the riffraff out and the hippies in.
The California budget cuts hit Governor Schwarzenegger's transportation services the hardest.
Lopaka, his soul already stolen by my other shot, abandons all hope.
"If you didn't feed me regularly, I'd bite your hand clean off for putting me in this getup."
Paka brings us gold! And frankincense! And mir! Wait, that's all just confetti. Nevermind.
Two parade-goers decked out in Woodstock camo.
The funky chicken is not the dance move for all occasions. No matter what your mom tells you.
If he took enough pictures of mommy kissing "uncle" Ted, daddy said he'd get Bobby a brand new bike.
Man: Whose baby is this? Anyone? Anyone? I keep it!
Woman: I'd tell you the washing machine ate the rest of my shirt, but we both know that's a lie.
Kid: Get your own man servant. This one is taken.
Always match your lipstick to your feather boa. Always.
Stilt Girl: So yeah, I wish my mom had replaced my legs with these metal stilts after the jr.high dance. They're afraid now.
Boy: Don't you mean you wish she hadn't done it at all?
Girl: What? Of course not. You see how wicked tall I am right?
Without the aid of her hat prop, Margaret's head would be crushed like a ripe melon.