giants camp restaurant
Originally uploaded by a nameless yeast.
gibsonton, florida
What Barney does not grasp is that the greatest avant-garde filmmakers astound us by conjuring powerful visions with limited means. Attempting to approximate this kind of poetic cinema with blockbuster production values becomes as absurd an endeavor as writing a haiku with ten thousand syllables.
This mom and pop establishment was writ up favorably in guidebooks and articles as a clean and inexpensive choice for those seeking vintage accommodations along US 41. They even had a shuffleboard court.
The first sign that something was amiss was the bullet-proof window between the receptionist and the traveller. A rate card tucked into the bedroom mirror listed prices as of 2003 - which were a good 25% higher than the current rate. The roaches in the bathroom didn't ease our mind, and neither did the bloodstains on the boxspring nor the mysterious crust on the bathtowels. We stood there a few minutes wondering if we could really allow our bodies to lay on those beds. It didn't take long for us to decide to cut our losses and run for the nearest chain.
On the scales of traveling justice, their no-refund policy was soundly trumped by our no-vermin policy. It was a costly lesson but good for a few pictures and a rollicking story-cum-cautionary tale.
Careening down the turnpike on the way to Weeki Wachee we passed this seething lovemobile. I looked over and saw this incendiary wahine dolled up in green for St. Paddy's. What you can't see in the picture is that she wore a breathing tube.
I picked this up at a flea market last summer and scanned it shortly afterwards, but I only just now noticed how eerie is the double exposure.
Years ago I was riding a crosstown H bus when a big bald black guy got on at the V.A. Hospital stop. He sat and repeated his mantra like a gentle carnival barker: "Minnesota Fats is coming to town ... he's the best around ... Minnesota Fats is coming to town ... he's the best around ..."
With the hypothesis that there are substances that cause an euphoria/morphine-like response, we need to define what these might be. One study (5) has indicated that endorphin levels are controlled by dietary fat and that eating fat-like foods (such as chocolate) might improve one's mood. A more recent study (21) also indicates that the fat in chocolate stimulates a surge of endorphins and the author feels the phrases "addicted to chocolate" or "chocoholic" maybe are partially true. If this is the case and you apply this to the euphoria brought on by HME then we can follow up with organ owners being "addicted to the Happiest Music on Earth." And, how many of us are?