Wednesday, February 09, 2005
Mardi Gras Pics!
Some would go out on Mardi Gras. Some would wander into the belly of the beast at midnight. I would be the second of those somes.
After I took this I heard some yelling, I don't think it was directed at me why would an armed police officer yell 300 yards at someone? Especially without shooting immediately after.
Please note that on the far left is the private security guard posted in front of this construction office trailer. I assume he was on duty when the window on the car parked directly in front of him was smashed.
The thing about Shrek is, you see, he knew me when.
Some men in blue told me I couldn't proceed down Santa Clara Street any longer. I tried cutting through the retirement home.
That lead me to nowheresville.
I walk around to third street, say hey to the character who I tried to recruit as my sidekick on the retirement home endeavor. And noticed more broken auto glass. WTF?
Mission Ale is using their side door as an entrance.
Because their front door is beyond the police line. I wonder why I was so easily able to take photos of police officers so easily. I could send this photo to NASA for enhancement because you know that all but one of them is going to participate in the bloody beating of someone tonight. And the odd man out, too brave to rat them out and too cowardly to rat them out who hires a hooker to say he was with her, deserting his post. But the NASA experts said someone with your badge number was there, about your height in relation to the suspects.
The riot gear does not become them so much but them horses sure are pretty.
After I took this I heard some yelling, I don't think it was directed at me why would an armed police officer yell 300 yards at someone? Especially without shooting immediately after.
Please note that on the far left is the private security guard posted in front of this construction office trailer. I assume he was on duty when the window on the car parked directly in front of him was smashed.
The thing about Shrek is, you see, he knew me when.
Some men in blue told me I couldn't proceed down Santa Clara Street any longer. I tried cutting through the retirement home.
That lead me to nowheresville.
I walk around to third street, say hey to the character who I tried to recruit as my sidekick on the retirement home endeavor. And noticed more broken auto glass. WTF?
Mission Ale is using their side door as an entrance.
Because their front door is beyond the police line. I wonder why I was so easily able to take photos of police officers so easily. I could send this photo to NASA for enhancement because you know that all but one of them is going to participate in the bloody beating of someone tonight. And the odd man out, too brave to rat them out and too cowardly to rat them out who hires a hooker to say he was with her, deserting his post. But the NASA experts said someone with your badge number was there, about your height in relation to the suspects.
The riot gear does not become them so much but them horses sure are pretty.
