Law Enforcement

After going to this place, we went to the projects to watch a group of physics students conducting field tests on the descent rate from 15 floors of various pieces of household furnishings, up to and including love seats.

Doors...

Door(noun) A swinging or sliding barrier by which an entry is closed or opened. A means of controlling access, ingress and egress.
What do you see when you look at a door?
I have no idea why I'm drawn to doors, maybe it's because it's a way "out", or maybe it's their symmetry, or maybe because it's a way "in", or maybe it's because of the unique noise they make when violently separated from all the hardware holding it in place(some physics students told me about the noise). What ever the reason may be, I take a lot of pictures of doors. And it really doesn't matter what I see, what do you see?

Gutteral Turkey Love...

Once again we found ourselves chased from our own backyard, and forced to go practice our art form else where. I don't know if it is scrappers fuckin everything up, or an over-zealous interim Mayor. Or maybe were just to lazy to work around the two. Whatever the reason may be we once again found ourselves headed west. Headed west through an inordinate number of shredded victims of car/deer incursions, which we later learned was caused by the females coming into "estrus", causing the males to chase them with wreck less abandon, and some reference was also made to blaming it on hunters. The turkeys were obviously smarter than the deer, we saw a lot of those too, but they stayed the fuck away from the interstate. It was like there were turkeys every where we went. You could hear turkeys everywhere, and some weird, greasy porno groove. Sex was in the air everywhere we went. It's even rumored that a butt-hymen may have been sacrificed(in the name of "art" of course).

The New FB21?

Hookin' Up

Across the Street

Follow up visit

I hate hospitals. Aside from child birth, hospitals suck. If you find yourself going to the hospital it's for only one of two reasons; either you are fucked up, or someone you care about is fucked up. If your in touch with yourself you can feel the death when you walk through the door. Add in radiators that are pinging and popping in a futile attempt to preserve an already failing roof, just enough electricity to power the "exit" signs, and an occasional flicker in a florescent fixture, and you have this place. This place is a thrill ride for the senses.