Mmm... Photosquito.
Normally, I don't like yellow, but I liked the matching bollard and garage trim. Very Grunge Shui.
This means... something, I'm certain of it.
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9 comments:
Bollard? What's a bollard?
It's, y'know, one of a series of posts preventing vehicles from entering an area.
That's, um, what I've heard on the streets, anyway.
Also, my "eating club" junior year was called The Bollard.
Yes, I know, "eating club" sounds awfully hoity-toity, but the stoner chef was very partial to pink chicken, sugar-free desserts, and mass quantities of cilantro. The open pantry was the only thing that made it at all worthwhile, except when the nacho cheese smelled like feet.
But I digress.
(Mmm... nacho feet...)
Nacho cheese always smells like feet, dude. Also: good work!
"eating club" sounds awfully hoity-toity, but
Ah, since I joined this fine establishment with Eli, I can tell you that he is far too modest on this count. To receive entre into this society, we had to perform two Gilbert & Sullivan songs--one of which the admission subcommittee would choose at the time of audition! To this day, I believe I owe my membership in The Bollard and all of its continuing concomitant perquisites to Eli's stunning spontaneous solo work on "I Am the Very Model of a Modern Major General."
Regrettably, these establishments have been compelled to relax their standards a fair measure over the years: They now admit women, and the wearing of full academic robes is optional (although thankfully it remains permissible to administer a sound thrashing to those who show up in street clothes!)
It is true that the board of fare wanted for flavor and sometimes contained parasites due to undercooking. In fact, I believe the club was called the "The Bollard" because its food resembled cement and would remain lodged in one's central passageway to obstruct the convenient conveyance of any other means of sustenance. And I will allow that the chef was a pathetic herbal inebriate and overly partial to cilantro; I believe that it was Eli's suggestion that this fixation might have been cleverly adopted as proof against drug conviction. ("Pot, your Honor? I thought it was cilantro! I love cilantro! Ask anyone!") But all of this was worth it in the name of fellow-feeling and grand times among one's peers! Eli, I will thank you not to air the dirty laundry of our secret society in public in future. Next you'll be revealing to the whole world that we have the nacho-cheese-covered carcass of a certain Native American chief in deep freeze!
PS Eli, excellent photos! They were, sadly, utterly lacking in cilantro, but otherwise perfect.
Never mind the bollards!Erm...nice shots, man.
very nice, i don't know what it means, but they got that post modern edge thing goin on. from what i've read nobody knows what that means either.
Thanks, all! I do like the abstract stuff. Anyone following me around to see what I shoot would be completely and utterly mystified.
I think I might steal that postmodern thing. I'm reminded of a Taxi episode where Reverend Jim was going to an art show, and was asked what he would do if someone started talking art theory at him:
"Well, whenever someone asks me a question I don't know how to answer, I just laugh knowingly and walk away."
"And does that work?"
[Laughs knowingly and walks away]
That yellow is really yellow, isn't it?
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