Existing In BFE

The Warden at Shawshank was kind enough to approve a block party of sorts at Shawshank on Super Bowl Sunday. A part of the circular drive was cordoned off and the game was projected onto a building. The Association sprang or sprung for burgers, hotdogs and tables and chairs. At halftime they bussed in some female dancers and did a line dance for us inmates. Lovely evening for an outside block party.  I was alone and this one woman, who was also alone, started talking in the thickest, heaviest New Yawk accent I've ever heard.  She said she was divorced and I was not the least bit surprised. The projection was pretty decent and the sound system was fantastic.  Someone mentioned doing this weekly as a movie night.  You want to ruin a good thing?  Do it every week. There were probably 40 or so people there and many filtered in and out as the game went on.  Much applause after some of the commercials.  The one garnering the most appeared to be the dog that ran backwards at the

The blog is always hungry and since I have set the standard for new entries each day (give or take weekends) carrying the camera, or phone around is second nature. It is amazing what you see out there on any given day and thus, on Saturday, January 21st, this is what I saw. The Farmer's Market is in full swing but failed to spot my Bloody Mary Mix maker and the line was too long at the fresh fruit stand, so decided to get Holly a metal gecko I promised from a few months ago.  But there were a couple things to snap first.  Here we have a purveyor of hugs.  He wasn't alone, as there were free huggers all over St. Pete this weekend, some sort of feel-good civic function, or another example of big government, take your pick.  I stayed away because I'm particular about who gets to squeeze me and feel me up.    Also not too far from the free huggers,  was this stand telling everyone breast feeding is normal.  Not sure if they were selling anything other than that message

I can't ever get enough of dumbshits who plaster permanent ink all over their face.  Gross!  Jesus, at least change the dressing. This is what I look like when I want something really bad.  Without the long blond hair and vagina, of course. Oooooooh, I done something bad this time. Do I look familiar.  SAme chick as last week.  Must be her signature mug shot look.    It wasn't me, Officer! Let's see.  How about a face tattoo that will be on forever.  OK, sounds good.  I did some quick research regarding the cross tattoos under the eyes and it simply means "New Life".   Octoman!  Another face that looks like a note pad.  With lots of doodles. Bright colors are a way to attract the opposite sex.

OK, You're back. Let's continue our Alligator Walk at the Boyd Hill Nature Preserve in St. Petersburg, Florida. After one of the most boring instructional lectures by a Preserve volunteer, we ambled down gravel pathways looking for one of those gators. The lecturer said that on these walks which they do once a month, the gators don't always show themselves. It is not a zoo, but a natural preserve and the animals here do pretty much as they please. I'm mostly going to shut up now and let you wander.   Yes, that's a tail. A gator sunning himself. At one of the open areas, this guy was down the lane a bit.  He never moved even with all of us rubbernecking and taking pictures.  But he knew we were here.  There's another one on the bank to the right of the bird. Gators like what is called brackish water, neither all fresh nor all salt.   Lots of walkways here,  about 6 miles worth. This lady didn't seem to mind becoming gat