Posts Tagged "Prospect Park"
This exciting edition of Twilight is presented vampire-free thanks to our proud sponsor, the Coalition Against Vampiric Overexposure.
Jokes, the reality is that I’m just a bigger Jacob fan. Ah, the face of a cyborg, the body of a steroidal teenager. I’m weak in the knees.1
I haven’t been able to get a drawing done yet this week (finger’s crossed… there’s still time), so I figured I’d just put up a few photos instead. You’ll take what you get! …And… and you’ll like it!
I was obviously pretty fucking fixated with the light reflecting on the lake — and to think, this was before I smoked. Perhaps all that glimmers really is gold… at least as far as photography subjects go (you may disagree — according to Facebook, some people see beauty in their morning coffee or their own reflection in the bathroom mirror).
Maybe it’s a little repetitive, but I haven’t posted up any sunset photos for, like, weeks, so cut me some slack here. I’ve been showing an awful lot of restraint.
Prospect Park is pretty darned magical at night, even without diamond-plated undead running around. It just goes to show that you really don’t need to be reincarnated as a vicious, blood-sucking predator just to have a good time.
Any vampire haters in the audience, you can fang me later for that tip.
1 Please no one take me seriously, ever.
This week, like so many before it, I find myself chained to a desk. Not by literal chains so much as spectral chains — projections of my weekly workload reaching out and tethering me to the one place I’m reasonably productive. Kind of like what the ghost of Jacob Marley had going on, if you ever saw The Muppet Christmas Carol or were forced to read the stupid ripoff by Charles Dickens when you were in school.
Nonetheless, I suppose there are worse things. I could be unemployed, with nothing better to do than come up with witty Occupy Wall Street signs waiting for the next round of protests. Instead, I get to occasionally charge my clients for time I actually spent smoking herb and watching skateboarding videos. Uh, but anyway, lest I incriminate myself further… here are a couple photos I took in Prospect Park the last time I spent any considerable length of time outside. Gosh, it was so long ago now… I can hardly remember… but it was probably sometime over the weekend.
It must suck to be a duck, considering you have to, like, drink your own bathwater. No wonder they think stale bread is some kind of luxury.
Reeds. Psh. Who the hell reads anymore, anyway? Somebody tell these guys they’re losers.
Photos with UFOs in them are spookier by default. That’s just science - science fiction, I’ll grant you. But that’s still a type of science, all the same.
I swear I’m not even joking about the flying saucer, either. Look at this close up…
Frankly, I find it kind of weird.
Okay, sure, maybe it could still be a plane, blurred by a slow shutter or an unsteady hand. Maybe it’s not a real UFO. That never stopped The National Enquirer, and that’s a good newspaper. It all comes down to that little shadow of doubt, my friends… that little shadow of doubt.
And is it just me, or does this kid really resemble David after the dentist?
I’m a bit hesitant to jump the gun when it comes to meteorological issues in general, since even the guys paid to predict this shit usually get it wrong, but with 58-degree-temperatures tentatively scheduled for later this week and February quickly approaching its abrupt end, “real winter” is looking like less and less of a possibility this year. Is it a sign of the end times? Who fucking cares! If the weather’s going to be this mild in hell, I’ll book my ticket in advance.
Nonetheless, last Saturday saw bitter, merciless wind and even a passing snow squall — perhaps a gentle warning that winter’s still got it, and maybe we shouldn’t push our luck. Rather, we should push our skateboards and enjoy the snow-free streets while we can. And who knows, we might just end up pushing straight on to spring.
The best part of a snowy, winter weekend night? The thought of heading home to a cold beer, oddly enough.
It occurred to me around this time that taking the long way home may have been a poor choice.
Nonetheless, walking through Prospect Park late at night is great if you, like me, wish your daily commute looked a little bit more like the Elven-outpost of Rivendell.
Magical as the view may have been, my fingers, numb from the biting wind, were turning into clumsy, bloated sausages by the minute. It was definitely time to head home and fill my blood with the warmth of an mildly alcoholic buzz.
If you have a day off and don’t waste it by sleeping through the entire thing, you’re blowing it (I think). Nonetheless, I promised myself when I had this baby I wouldn’t be a negligent blogger daddy, god damn it! So, that said, here are some new photos from around my way. It’s still technically autumn, though it won’t be for long, so I figured I’d post these in memory of a time when it was warm enough to go skateboarding and not want to die every single time you fall. Concrete hurts more in below-freezing temperatures — that’s just a fact… a cold, hard fact.
That building needs to shave. God, have some self respect you friggin animal.
To be honest, I’m not sure if that’s hash or a lil’ piece of dog dookie, but I do know that is just an adorable little plastic bag!
If you’ve ever seen Creepshow 2 (which I can’t entirely recommend, but is somehow still totally worth watching), you might feel the same way I do about these ducks. Poor bastards, right? Ever since I saw “The Raft”, I’ve never been able to look at oil slicks or even large expanses of algae the same way. I mean, seriously, my world has been rocked.
The creature even destroys his medical marijuana! I mean, what is this thing?!
The YouTube peanut gallery always has the most fascinating insights.
Man-eating oil slick or not, seriously, don’t come on in, the water is not fine.