This giant bat, for instance.It's laying about for no particular reason being pointlessly arty not far from our hotel.
Also, somehow the extraordinarily lowbrow and tasty Hot Dog Ranch and its wares missed the cut.
Not far away, I'm not sure if it's the overgrown buggy field, the rust, or the proximity to highway exhaust that makes me so resolutely say, "No!" to this.
Not to mention I completely forgot to put this up on the 6th, which --if one takes the farm market sign as gospel-- was World Breastfeeding Celebration Day. I would be willing to bet that would be one of the more entertaining holiday parades you could attend. I would strive for a front row seat, myself. Also one of the few holidays that seems to have its own soundtrack. By David Grover
Lastly, the Cranwell rabbit. Always around, always eating, ballsy as hell. I'm pretty sure he growled at me and I didn't know bunnies could growl. You could walk up pretty close to him and he wouldn't do more than eye you warily, his rabbity cheeks stuffed with grass or weeds or whatever the hell he was eating. And growl. I think. He sorta had Charlie's attitude. He endured us watching him. But he didn't like it.
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