Walk Around

Dropped Moe and his S.O., female, off somewhere with doctors and pills and bandages. They are poor and prone to self-injury. (Moe rides his bike through back yards at night, for a short cut, not thinking there might be a clothes line drawn over the vacancy).

I didn't want to stay at the E.R., so I gave them money for a cab back home. Made clear "it's a gift!" and they said in unison "Thank You Honest John". He's a good guy, she's a sweet girl. I don't like them, though. Hell, I don't like anybody, I swear sometimes what's left of my heart is in a cardboard box.

Then I pulled over to see what I could do with my camera.



It's still in business. Sometimes you get this abandonded appearence because you're so busy keeping up the front.



My mom says of the rural south, "yes but there is so much color!".

I wouldn't permit her to see this.

Note which way the arrow points.



That's not Bossie. And those eyes aren't merely mischievious. They go with the horns.
That's a demon bull. And what a greivous misuse of the cartoon medium.



Back around. You could tear this kip down by handfulls of stucco.



Small building. Is that the entrance?

I stayed too long.