these snaps turned up on a oad roll of film...big notts in the final throes of scummer
Rome has the Sistine Chapple...
after knocking some poor kidda off of their bike, Rabbi Woodhand turned on me
the stunning vista of Top Valley
Benno (Swiss-piss) in full, majestic flight
bluntslide which sounded like seagulls dieing
the one foot skank
---following such regressive behaviors, I headed back out towards Vermont and Earth Sky Time Farm---
where the flour was flying...
and the camping was risque
and the ho-downs are somber affairs - a night at Donny Dorr's (local oil barren)
Donnie D. Dorr, macking hard...
Donnie had the pick of the ladies
and the dudes! (if he reads this, I'm a dead man)
yeah, we cut the rug
much to the amusement of the locals