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There are dozens of different types of gags, almost nothing has the naughtiness quotient of panties.. but bit gags?...The places they can take you...
Entirely hand made.
Buy it on etsy: www.etsy.com/listing/67683212/spiked-leather-bit-gag
about de Sade: www.flickr.com/people/desadecollection/
All photos Copyright deSadeCollection 2011.
I'm a bit bored with landscapes, so I thought I'd check out what the We're Here gang is doing. Today is the Doctor's pool. I couldn't come up with anything fun, and I don't have the motivation to do anything fancy even if I did. Oh well. It's not a landscape. Baby steps...
My kids are at my mom's house for spring break. My house is clean and quiet. It's very weird.
Pensacola Beach Fishing Pier
Florida
© 2011 Kevin Barry, All Rights Reserved.
This photo may not be used in any form without written permission from the photographer.
This is one of my favorite shots taken in recent months. If you do not also love it, then I hate you!
To see more of my work, go to www.kevinbarryphotos.com
I am getting a fat head. I feel compelled to brag a bit. I don't usually show more than Page 1 of my photos that were/are Explored by Flickr, and I don't even necessarily show Page 1 every time a new photo gets added. But this time, I have a *first* in 9 ½ years on Flickr. I had three of my photos chosen in a single day (November 20, 2014)! Almost always it is none or one, very rarely two, but three for me is amazing. So I am showing all 3 pages. Page 1 is the one with three in one day on it. I hope my viewers enjoy some of them.
1. Elderly Couple Walking Into the Fog, 2. Gorgeous Great White Egret, 3. I Like My Hawks Unleaded..., 4. Blue Pickup Truck with Taillights ~ a Rainting, 5. Two Little Girl Kittens, 6. Hooray! Arctic Tundra Swans are Back!, 7. Ribbon of Fog from Green Peak on to the North, 8. Autumn Trees Near Maple Ridge,
9. Big Fluffy Clouds & Reflections in McFadden Marsh, 10. Scrawny Tree Hill a Bit Somber & Spooky for Halloween, 11. Abandoned Store Window at Disston, Oregon USA, 12. Sweet Gum Tree (I think) from a Distance ~ Painterly, 13. McKenzie River, Lane County, Oregon ~ Painterly, 14. Sun Rays with Sort of Hidden Little Red Orb, 15. Vintage Metal Farm Equipment (Amazing), 16. One of My Favorite Shots Ever ~ 3 Beautiful Dogs Swimming & Fetching Cooperatively,
17. Caps for Toy Pistols, 18. Beautiful Fuzzy Weeds, 19. Great Blue Heron Catches Late Dinner, 20. Great Blue Heron Just Prancing Right Along, 21. Sunset Out My Rear Window ~ SOOC, 22. A Gazillion Gorgeous Pink, Red & White Poppies, 23. Sunrise with Red Orb and One Dark Duck, 24. Sunset with Red Orb,
25. Elk Family ~ Maybe Cow, Calf & Daddy?, 26. Quilt with Bare Trees (No Leaves Trees) ~ Best Viewed Large, 27. German Shepherd Looking Right at Me, 28. The Third Little Pig Foiled the Big Bad Wolf ~ But then Came that Darned Hurricane, 29. Sunrise from Out Back ~ July 8, 2014, 30. 5 Ducklings ~ I Like the One in Front with His Beak Open, 31. Male American Goldfinch ~ Carduelis tristis, 32. Female American Goldfinch ~ Carduelis tristis,
33. Grass is Great for Elk ~ They Eat Several Blades of It while They Hide Behind One, 34. Great Blue Heron in Flight ~ Looks Painterly but it is SOOC, 35. Gorgeous and Exotic Looking Flowers ~ Showy Milkweed, Asclepias speciosa, 36. More Grasses in Black & White, 37. Snake Like the One a Bittern Ate in One of My Photos Years Ago, 38. Magenta or Cerise Wildflowers with Yellow Centers, 39. Guess What I Saw at the Hospital Yesterday ~ 2 Deer with Cute Antlers, 40. Best Viewed Large to Spot all the Creatures Here,
41. Poppies Sandwiched Between Earth and Sky ~ Painterly, 42. Field of Poppies and Orchard with Tiny Specks of Sheep, 43. More Poppies Swaying in the Breeze, 44. Bittern Stalking the Next Meal ~ Get a Load of that Right Foot, 45. Female Cinnamon Teal Duck Shows Off Pure White Feathers Under Her Wing, 46. Male Cinnamon Teal Duck Stretching & Fanning Out Some of His Feathers ~ EXPLORED, 47. Part of a Large Herd of Elk ~ Best Viewed Large, 48. Cutest Cinnamon Teal Duck Pair Ever!,
49. Used to Be Quaint Little Pink House ~ Now Entrance is Boarded Up, 50. Don't Laugh ~ It's My First Time Photographing a Hummingbird, 51. Sunrise at McFadden Marsh with Guardrail and Fence, 52. Which 2 out of these 4 do you like the best? This is #6993, 53. Which 2 out of these 3 do you like the best? This is #7004, 54. Matt & Thomas Bringing Down a Huge Tree, 55. Pigeon Butte & Queen Anne's Lace or Wild Carrot, 56. Hey Man, We Have Here a Barn, a Marsh and a Rainbow with Like Some Way Weird Processing, Ya Know?,
57. Canada Geese, One Show-Off & Some Small Birds, 58. Quaint Old Barn that I Like, 59. Gorgeous Hawk at William L Finley National Wildlife Refuge, 60. Sunset out My Window, 61. Swans in Flight (Parts of Seven of Them), 62. Tchaikovsky ~ A Noble Looking Long-Haired Cat, 63. Christmas Tree Made Out of Books, 64. Trees in Front Yard ~ Almost Black & White ~ Some Specks of Color,
65. Blueberry Bushes & Poplar Windbreak on the Way Out ~ Painterly, 66. Bulldog in Muddy Black Truck ~ Light Rain, 67. Freshly Painted Fence Ornamentation at US Post Office, Corvallis, Oregon, 68. ************************************************ Some of the 29,000 Canada Geese Coming Back for the Winter, 69. It's Not Snow! It is Super Artsy Techniques on my Photo of a Very Hard Rain, 70. Concrete Cluster Benches at Corvallis Riverfront Park, 71. Sunlit Clouds & Douglas Fir Trees in My Back Yard, 72. Giant Marshmallow Farm
Created with fd's Flickr Toys
Bhutan is not a country that is generally well known. If asked, most people might say that it lies somewhere in the Himalayas and is a bit hilly. If pressed, they might think of yaks and snow leopards and rhododendrons, or maybe know it as the land where development is measured in terms of Gross National Happiness rather than Gross Domestic Privation.
And in fact, this latter characteristic most fits with my experiences of this mountainous kingdom – the happiness of the people stands out a mile. In the short time that I was there I cannot recall a frown or a curse or even so much as a tiny disagreement. Even the use of the car horn is limited to polite little peeps or playful messages sent to pretty girls as they saunter along the pavement. It is such a gentle society.
It’s also an equal and an emancipated one. Women are first in line to inherit following the death of their parents; it is they who get the house and the property and the rights, not the son (whether he’s older or not). Women can have as many spouses as men. Women are very forthright when it comes to flirting: within a couple of hours at my first hotel I was invited to a dance that evening and asked if I wanted to marry one of the waitresses. I didn’t take advantage of either offer but, given the beauty of the women here, I was sorely tempted. They really are extremely lovely – slim and wiggly bodies, velvety black hair that never seems to grey, wonderful dimpled smiles, and eyes that just penetrate into the heart of you.
They seem to be a very sexually liberated lot (well, that’s one way of calling it). My guide, Kinlay, was forever talking about his girlfriends (even though he’s married with two sons), hanky-panky (but no spanky, perhaps that was pushing revelations a mite too far given that I’d only just met him), and jiggy-jiggy (or, in local parlance, ‘jeggy-jeggy’), or shouting, ‘Charimdumaray’ (‘You’re lovely’) through the window at any passing female. But then he’s very young, he’s in his thirties … Or maybe he’s just trying to live up to the reputation of his namesake, Lama Drukpa Kunley (1455-1529), aka ‘The Divine Madman’, a saint who had the MO of driving out demons by means of excessive drinking and fornication which sounds a perfectly valid and jolly method of exorcism to me. His signature, a big phallus , now adorns many buildings throughout the area – a sign to ward off evil and protect the household. I wonder how this would go down with the good citizens of Ayr?
Many people still revere His Mad Divineship / Holy Madness and consequently many people have been given his name (or that of the temple that was dedicated to him, ‘Chimey Lhakhang’). The first two people I met in Bhutan were called Kunley. Then the third (who was confusingly a woman ) turned out to be a Kunley too. And so was the fourth. I gave up asking after that.
Bhutan is now a constitutional monarchy since the present king relinquished absolute rule in 2008. Like a 21 year old with the keys to life, the new democracy is revelling in its liberation, independence and autonomy and is enjoying furnishing its own flat and buying its own clothes and food. But at the same time it looks up to the person who granted it its freedom, and the whole country remains loyal and truly affectionate towards the Royal Family.
The king (31, Pisces - they like such details here) married his young betrothed (21, Virgo ) on the 13th October. Every shop had photos of the couple posted outside and inside, decorated with ribbons in the colours of the Buddha – blue (for the sky), white (for the clouds), red (for fire), green (for water) and yellow (for the soil). Huge banners adorned hillsides and town gates. Radio programmes were filled with callers wishing the happy pair a long, fruitful, loving union. And as I watched the wedding in a restaurant in Paro , with the assembled masses in the crowds and in the organised dances that must have taken weeks to rehearse, and thought that there could not be a single person in the nation who was not either at the ceremony or who was not glued to the TV, it occurred to me that this was what it must have been like with QEII 50 years ago . How long will this state of innocent bliss last?
Maybe for a long time yet. Not only is this a peaceful society (I never once felt threatened) but it’s also relatively prosperous, well organised, and, crucially and in a real way, it actually is a society. It is not a collection of individuals out to benefit for themselves. This is one big nation of people (about 650 000 of them) who believe they are part of a larger community of family, friends and neighbours. The neighbours may be from the east of the country (300 miles away and effectively 2 days travelling) who speak another dialect and wear different clothes, but they are still part of the same community.
Free education for all plays an important role in levelling classes and bringing people together. The king (apparently) lives in a ‘cottage’ and he is certainly one who puts much effort in meeting and greeting. The ceremony he attended in Thimpu, after the wedding, lasted from 0900 to 1700 and for a lot of that time he was moving amongst the crowds, shaking hands and speaking with (not ‘to’ – I don’t think he’s a Charlie. ‘And what do you do?’ – probably isn’t his stock, opening gambit) virtually everyone there.
Communities work in unison to improve the environment and their own lives. They harvest the rice together, it’s a communal thing. Often I saw small congregations on the hillside, burning juniper as incense, intoning incantations, chanting with monks. Several times I saw parties of villagers or school children walking along the roadside picking up litter. The land is free of piles of rubbish. This is a clean country. The drains and rivers are not open sewers. Not once did I see a rat.
Smoking was banned recently. It’s an offence to smoke – you could be imprisoned. For grass it’s up to three years for possession and 9 years for dealing. This was the first country to outlaw plastic bags too. Unfortunately, however, for both fags and bags neither law is strictly enforced and both are commonly (if expensively for the former) available.
But Bhutan is not Shangri La. In 1999 TV was introduced for the first time. Now the two favourite programmes are World Federation Wrestling from the USA, and ‘Bhutan Idol’ (the third series) – it was this programme that Kinlay said would prevent me from watching any footie on TV in the bars. ‘Idol’ was that popular! Everyone now has a TV and there is a good link between the growth in its distribution and the incidence of crime in the country.
Mobile phones came in in 2003 (so my guide said) and they are now ubiquitous. Young people have adopted the global practice of meeting up and then spending all the time texting and / or phoning other friends elsewhere. That’s when they can stop blowing bubble gum for long enough to say anything. One person I met had a sophisticated ring tone system that alerted him to whoever was trying to contact him: his wife’s ring tone was his young son’s crying and gurgling; his mate’s tone was an extract from his favourite blue movie accompanied by the obligatory image of a busty brunette.
The people like to dress up for occasions (like the festival – Tseschu – in Thimpu) with their finest national gear: beautiful, iridescent, brightly coloured silk dresses for the women; rather more subdued but still unique skirts and knee-high stockings for the men. When visiting national monuments (such as museums, temples, dzongs ) or events they have to dress in national costume. But these days, for normal everyday wear, they tend far more towards the boring western norm of t-shirts and jeans and track-suits (usually with ‘Man Utd’ written on them. Damn their souls!). There was a great contrast between the clothes worn to the formal Tseschu festival and the far less formal singalong in Thimpu town square – colourful, vibrant, exciting of the exotic compared with the dull, drab, grey and black of the mundane (and the future).
Traditional sports seem to be holding their own against the overwhelming and inexorable influence of football . Archery is something the Bhutanese are especially good at having won medals of all colours at recent Olympics. These days they employ carbon composite bows for main competitions. Traditional bows of bamboo are still found and used but mainly to simply maintain the tradition. The target is a wooden board about 40cm high and usually 140m from the archer. No wonder they’re good at it.
Darts (not the UK variety) – about 15cm long consisting of a 3cm metal point, a wooden shaft and 5cm feathers – is also played at weekends. The ‘court’ is longer than a cricket pitch and the target is a 30cm wooden board with a bulls-eye near the top. A wall of earth or concrete backdrops the target, really just a sop to health and safety. They are not overly concerned with H&S, which is healthy.
For both archery and darts, the opposing team (all wearing fine traditional skirts ) line up alongside the target and watch intently as the projectile is released and heads towards them. The observers’ reaction time for the darts is far less than that for archery. I think I was happier watching the archery. When a dart or arrow actually hits the board it triggers a mediaeval ritual of chanting and dancing by both of the teams, in praise of the gods for such a blessing. If only our supporters and ‘sportsmen’ took win and loss in the same spirit.
There are cars in Bhutan as well. Not many of them because there aren’t that many people. They are in good condition and few of them send out blasts of poisonous black smoke. I saw my first privately-owned electric car here. They are generally new (the favourites being Hyundais and Toyota) and without any dents. Motorbikes are rare and tuc-tucs are entirely absent (which is such a relief!). Roads (maintained and built by Indians, and funded by the RoI government) are largely pothole-free and gloriously smooth. It still takes a long time to get anywhere because of the winding nature of the terrain, but at least it’s almost painless.
But, of course, this road system comes at a cost. Gangs of Indians, thousands of them, have been imported and have set up semi-permanent residence in Bhutan (without citizen rights, of course) and their sole employment, occupation and raison d’etre is road building and repair. They work very long hours (0600 to 1600 hrs) for a pittance. Their tools are mainly their hands: hauling large stones over cliffs or onto lorries. Primitive implements are provided: back bent double as they use pathetic brushes to sweep the road; women shovelling sand and gravel and throwing it through sieves. Some (men as well as women) actually break rocks with hammers, all day long, like a work detail from a ‘40s state penitentiary, a modern day chain-gang. These gangs have their own settlements and schools; they are separate from mainstream Bhutanese society. But they don’t seem to be discriminated or prejudiced against. There is, at least, no bigotry in Bhutan.
Except perhaps against the Nepalese. This is not talked about, but many Bhutanese who originated in Nepal (two or three or more generations back) were forcibly deported in the ‘90s (?) and now reside in refugee camps in Nepal. I met only one person whose ancestors came from Nepal but he seemed contented and calm. He might have said more but we’d been caught up in a delay caused by a landslide and the obstruction had just been removed so we had to move on. 11 days is not enough in Bhutan.
You might think that a Buddhist democracy consisting of less than three quarters of a million people might not need or, especially, want an army. How could they justify killing? And anyway, what could their paltry population hope to accomplish against the might of the Indians or Chinese if they chose to invade ? But it’s a career path to some (Kinlay considered it after university (in Chennai) if tourism didn’t work out), and for others the army really is a necessity.
Earlier in the noughties there was some trouble with Assamese rebels. They had occupied some of the forests of the duars in Bhutan (just across the border) and were causing problems (not with the locals – the Assamese were generous with their payment for goods – but with the (Indian?) politicians). Negotiations with the rebels were not successful and so the Bhutanese government sent in the troops. This resulted in the insurgents being ousted but at the cost of 12 Bhutanese soldiers being killed. The effects of this battle / war seems to have become deeply embedded within the psyche of the Bhutanese; a large memorial (at Dochu La consisting of 108 chortens) was established to commemorate the conflict and one of the on-going repercussions is that the army are more popular than ever. Not that it would ever sink to the depths of the Burmese army and become a junta. That would be unthinkable.
So the army is needed . But what about religious or moral objections, after all Costa Rica doesn’t have a standing army so surely a strict Buddhist nation could do without one? But then the Bhutanese love meat. They are devout devourers of pork and beef and, to a slightly lesser extent, chicken? So long as they don’t have to kill the animals themselves they are happy to consume flesh.
Do I hear calls of ‘Hypocracy’? Well, I’m not going to shout them down.
But all religions are institutionally hypocritical and Buddhism is no worse than any other. An army of a Buddhist nation sounds contradictory but religion has always been political, nations are essentially political beasts with artificial boundaries, politicians need to maintain and protect those boundaries as well as they can given limited resources, and armies are the main way of providing protection.
At least this army is not there to violate other nations or supress the population or support an unauthorised government. It provides comfort and a sense of security, a source of pride, and a life for many people. Who am I to criticise it?
The trekking in Bhutan was far better than in Nepal (although Nepal was good). Here it was proper camping, there it was in Guesthouses. Nepal is over-populated, there is no getting away from people; waves of trekkers (ramblers) met you head on along the Poon Hill circuit; football crowds gathered to catch the dawn view of Annapurna; dogs, locals, cows, agricultural terraces … they all swarm and cover the slopes of Nepal.
But in Bhutan … ah, it’s different. I met perhaps 10 other trekkers on my 5 day stint. Yes, there were monks and the occasional dog, but mainly it was me in the wild, in untouched, blue pine forests and stands of huge or dwarf rhodies and junipers and alpine meadows of the highest hills. Alongside the soft beats of the wings of the goshawk, and ‘glowps’ of ravens, and cheeky cawings of choughs there was the whisper of winds and ripple of drying leaves. No sounds of machinery. No barking . No drunken laughter . It was heaven.
Of course I was spoilt. Apart from the landscape, and the views, and the sky and the clouds, and the wildlife and the vegetation, I had a platoon of (for wont of a better word ) servants to look after my every needs. I had my own chef, and he had a helper. I had a guide who made sure I didn’t fall down a cliff or take the wrong path. I had a horseman who looked after the seven ponies that accompanied our small expedition. The only person I lacked was a masseur (which, incidentally, was what I really needed).
They erected my tent and decamped for me. They cooked me three meals a day and washed up after me. I was served at my table and they even ran off to buy beer for me . They set up my own private lav, provided loo paper, and filled the hole in after me. My guide even carried my water bottle. They did everything for me except tuck me in at night (for which I was grateful).
It was hard walking, some of the slopes were steep, and it was bloody cold at night. I met a couple of Aussies on the second day and, after I remarked how bloody cold it was the previous night (not that I was fixated or anything), they said, ‘Well, it gets colder. There was frost on the ground two nights ago.’ I said, ‘Great. Good job my sleeping bag isn’t as good as I thought it was (and the zip’s broken), and that I forgot my socks.’ They said, ‘You forgot your socks?! Are you mad?’ I didn’t say anything. ‘But you’re from Scotland, right?’ ‘Aye,’ I said, ‘You’ll be fine then.’ They were nice people but they could afford to be because they’d survived the ordeal and were now heading back to civilisation. They had had socks. Smug bastards. Nice people though.
Ten minutes later, as I was watching a huge thanka being unfolded by the Phajoding monks, the lady (to my shame I never did get to know her name) ran up to me and offered, like a true Buddhist using both hands, a pair of socks. ‘They’re a day and a half old,’ she said, ‘but they’ll save your life!’ I didn’t know what to say so I kept repeating, like the simpleton John Miles played in ‘Ryan’s Daughter’, ‘Thank you, thank you.’ I refrained from saying ‘God bless’, but I was genuinely touched (in more ways than one) and didn’t even have the sense to ask for their address so that I could send them back to Oz. Which was just as well. But I would have had them washed.
And the socks really were a Godsend. Never before have I held so much regard for footware. They (along with the extra blanket supplied by chef) actually made the next three nights bearable (just. There was still the issue of the bells and the thin mattress). Thanks Australia ;-)
Overall, you might think that a minimum of $200 a day to visit and exist in Bhutan is a lot of money. And it is. No argument. But … this money covers everything apart from incidentals such as snacks and souvenirs , and so, although it’s expensive, it’s not that expensive and is, actually, when it comes down to it, damned good value for money. Outside of Bhutan, how much would it cost to have what they provided me? A personal guide (just for little old me) who answers most of the inane and arcane questions I usually pose to myself or strangers (who aren’t good at responding. Either of them) and panders to almost my every whim My own transport (so I can say, ‘Why don’t we go down this wee road?’, ‘Can we just stop here for a minute to take a photo’, and ‘STOP! There’s a bird I haven’t seen, I’m sure of it. Might be new to science too. Come on, we’ll be famous!’ ) My your own private expeditionary force to conquer the Himalayas? The chance to stay in top class hotels (with clean, unstained sheets and electrics that work. Luxury). To have all your meals provided for you (most of them excellent). And to have the flexibility to be able to change itinerary and venues / hotels depending on how you feel … and all this amongst the beauty, serenity and unspoilt splendour of a country which is Bhutan …
Well, what can I say? It’s not a perfect country, but it comes damned close to it.
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I saw something like this today at work, and had a bit of spare time so thought I'd give it a shot! Not bad considering done with an iPhone!
A bit of brightness at Whitacre Junction, although the sky has some foreboding cloud. Passing is Class 70 No. 70015 heading Freightliner's 4O38 0952 Lawley Street - Southampton M.C.T. Liner on 15th May 2024. Copyright photograph John Whitehouse - all rights reserved (* as the locals say)
Adventures in MUNI. 10.19.19
Saturday afternoon, a little bit before 1PM, and I’m standing on an elevated curb/bus stop in the middle of the street waiting for the N Judah to take me over to the other side of San Francisco for this year’s Burning Man Decompression.
I see an older lady crossing the street towards me at a very slow pace, she has a cane in one hand and a cone in the other hand that’s she’s using for support. Instantly scores BTx points with me. She makes her way off the street and onto the elevated curb / bus stop so I move out of the way and ask if I can give her a hand. She politely declines and explains that she slipped, broke some body parts recently, and that the cone is helpful for her getting onto curbs. I respond with an “Oh yeah, and it’s also a great reminder to drivers that may not see you” and then I launch into my “Actually, there are lots of uses for cones” speech.
We start talking MUNI and the city. She only takes MUNI once a week to get groceries from Safeway and hates the new electric cars. “I prefer the older cars as well. The ones with the brown seats are like the Cadillacs of public transportation. You got so much more room. With these new Agenda 2030 Hunger Games trains you’re paying more for less. I feel like Kevin Smith flying Southwest Airlines on them. And whose brilliant idea was it to remove the butt guards on the benches so that everybody slams into each other at stops and it encourages homeless people to just stretch out and take up as many seats as possible?” And then I launch straight into my “San Francisco is being collapsed by design and 9/11 was an inside job” speech.
The N Judah is approaching and we board. It’s not till we have departed that I notice that the cone is no longer with us.
“Oh, so you leave the cone at the bus stop?” I ask. Because stating the obvious is my superpower.
And she looks at me like I’m a crazy person. “I’m not going to bring a cone with me onto MUNI.”
We travel on and she gets up ready to leave as we approach Church St. I ask if she needs a hand with her bags and she politely declines. As she steps down at a very slow & careful pace, I hold the doors open for her and I’m thinking this is pretty hardcore for a person in this situation to be shopping at the Janes Addiction Safeway right next to the feral junkie population. But it’s also kind of nice knowing that, chances are, that cone will still be waiting for you hours later when you return to the bus stop in The Outer Sunset. No way that would happen here or at many other bus stops in the city where if you were to leave a cone unattended somebody would molest it, steal it, marry it, divorce it, take legal action against it, damage it, and worse all before you had a chance to even buy your groceries.
End Happy Feel Good MUNI story of the day.
Adventures in MUNI. 10.20.19
Saturday Night. A little after midnight. Waiting for the T to take me from The Dogpatch to Downtown so I can get home.
The outside sound systems have shut down so there’s a wave of people leaving Decompression. My 2-car train that was originally quoted as being there in 15 mins takes twice as long to show up and during that time a decent crowd has formed on the platform. Lots of sparkle ponies, glow sticks, hula hoops, face paint, ect. When we get on it’s one of those MUNI moments where you can instantly tell who is coming from the same party as you and who is not a party person. We’re just north of the Bayview / Hunter’s Point which is a pretty hardcore part of San Francisco where you very much need to be aware of your surroundings at all times. You especially want to have your guard up during moments like this when you are part of this party people exodus of hammered & half naked people on the train because you never know when a predator will swoop in and see you as easy prey.
I’m sitting in the middle of the train by the doors, next to homeless guy with a shopping cart, and the majority of Burning Man party people are in the back of the train to my right,
We’re puttering along fine for a while when this person who looks like Deebo and has the personality of Deebo (Ice Cube’s nemesis from the Friday movies) gets on with an open container in hand and a mouth that just won’t stop. He’s an Angry Drunk Talker and enters in the back with the Burning Man party people and starts to comment / pick a fight with every person on the train.
When you’re in the Walking Dead and you see a Walker, the rules are simple.
You Do Not Engage.
You don’t say “Huh?” “What?” “Excuse me?” or ask them to clarify their position on same sex marriages. When you’re on a mission and you cross paths with a Walking Dead you Do Not Engage.
If you are forced to engage then you shoot it in the head or kill it with fire and you get it right the first time.
Same Walking Dead rules apply on MUNI.
Or, to look at it another way, if you want to put out a fire then cut off the oxygen supply.
The fire will collapse upon itself. Adding oxygen just adds fuel to the fire.
Same thing with Angry Talkers and words. Words are their cocaine.
Deebo has moved past the Burning Man part of the MUNI and is now locking horns with the other young black guy who looks like he was just minding his own business in the corner seat (Not a party person coming from Decompression). Things start to escalate when the young man’s girlfriend is brought up. The tone is escalating. Eyes are bugging out. Threats are being made. All of a sudden, the older black guy with gray hairs sitting across from me (Also not a party person coming from Decompression) jumps up, inserts himself between Deebo and young man & his girl, with his back to Deebo and both arms outstretched and holding onto poles and screaming “No!” over and over again. A literal human shield. Everybody is yelling now. I’m standing up directly behind Deebo yelling “There is no honor in this!” Then girlfriend whips out a taser and starts firing it up and you can hear the electricity crackle in the air.
Less than an hour ago if was to hear the crackle of electricity in the air I would have thought Tesla Coils, Science & Outdoor Burning Man Fun.
Now an hour later and the crackle of electricity on a MUNI means that some Bro is about to be tased.
You would think the female discharging her taser would defuse the situation, but instead Deebo puts his beer down and starts to take off his jacket.
That is the universal sign that a physical assault is imminent.
Atari: Prepare To Be Attacked
The trains stops, the doors open, and the homeless guy with the shopping cart uses his cart as a battering ram to shove Deebo out of the train. Way to go, Spartacus!
It’s then that I realize that Deebo has only been on MUNI for 1 stop.
We went from zero to threats being made and weapons being discharged in less than 1 stop.
Anger is a virus and I’m seeing more and more people possessed by an Argument Demon in the streets of San Francisco these days.
That Argument Demon virus is contagious.
The train eventually gets moving again minus Deebo. Moments ago I was in a Martin Scorsese film and now I’m in an episode of Seinfeld where we are all just sitting around talking about nothing. It’s amazing how the vibe on MUNI can channel surf like that in a heartbeat.
I’m talking with the older black guy with gray hairs and saying “That was really admirable of you. You just jumped in there and were a literal human shield. That was pretty brave.” and we talk MUNI and the city for a bit before he gets off a few stops later. He kind of reminds me of Ice Cube’s Dad in the Friday movies in that endearing honest Dad kind of way. Nice guy.
We make it as far as the Folsom St Station before the bus driver announces that the police have been called and the train now has to stop and wait till SFPD shows up to file a police report. The entire 2-car train empties out and we all spread out into the night. It’s around 1AM now and it’s in the beautiful downtown waterfront part of San Francisco that’s being lit up by the Bay Bridge lights, which is a Burning Man art project. It’s funny how Burning Man art projects are following me home tonight. Funny and very much appreciated.
This is a beautiful but also deserted part of the city where you could be assaulted by a crazy person with issues at any moment because San Francisco 2019 is the Stanford Prison Industrial Complex.
I trek up a few blocks to the Embarcadero Station, only to see that the station is closed. I then go up and catch the N Night Owl on the first stop on Market St and when I get on, I see that the bus is filled with equal parts homeless people and part sparkle ponies, glow sticks, hula hoops, face paint, ect. Burning Man is following me home again.
Takes me an extra hour, but I’m able to make it home in one piece.
Just another adventure in MUNI.
UPDATE # 1
Another intense 10.20.19 Escape from SF story
www.facebook.com/groups/SFbayareastreetphotograpy/permali...
There was something in the air that night that was bringing out the demons.
UPDATE # 2
San Francisco Safeway making national news for all the wrong reasons again.
Man caught pooping in aisle of San Francisco Safeway
www.kron4.com/news/bay-area/man-caught-pooping-in-aisle-o...
This was at the nice upscale Marina Safeway. When I first moved to SF this Safeway was consistently voted the #1 pick up spot in all of San Francisco several times over. It was always filled with young attractive Buffy’s & Lucy Liu’s like you were in the club, but you didn’t have to shout over a sound system like you were in the club. When I first moved here in 1994 this Safeway was already famous as a spot to go look good and see good looking people.
2019 and now it’s famous as a place where dudes with man buns go to take a shit in the aisles.
San Francisco is being collapsed by design.
I've never seen a HST on the slow here before but this one was routed around the back at East Midlands Parkway due to it's normal platform being occupied by another southbound HST. 43041 heads south at Ratcliffe-upon-Soar on 4th June 2013.
Sadly I fluffed the shot of 60039 at the same location a few hours later, thanks to a school boy error. Luckily we had two bites of the cherry so it didn't matter too much in the end...
decor
The family did Christmas dinner different this year. Instead of the traditional turkey, stuffing, etc, each person picked a continent & a type of dish. We then got to pick a country from that continent and try to find a traditional food from each country (if possible, trying to find a Christmas dish from each country). So this year we had Asian spare ribs, German-style red cabbage with apples, Moroccan bread, sorrel (a Jamaican/Latin American hibiscus tea drink) and an Australian/New Zealand pavlova dessert. AMAZING.
// WHAT I WORE
Threadless zombie tee (gifted)
Urban Outfitters patchwork jeans
Liz Wear Petite cardigan (thrifted)
Fila black boots
Steve Madden bag
NHM agate necklace (gifted)
Here's my last 12 tags of Christmas. I had so much fun with the tags. This tag is also for the Play Date Cafe Challenge #111. The background was stamped with a star stamp, inked with Picket Fence Distress Stain and then I used multi-medium to attach the tissue paper. Quite a bit of Rock Candy Stickles was smeared on top. Instead of using the house die (which I had already used on one of the other tags, I used the mannequin (I hope that it what it is called). It was painted with two shades of paint (Pool and Juniper) to get the right shade of teal. The flourish stamp was stamped on top and embossed with puffy powder. Rock Candy Stickles was smeared on top and when dry white paint was added to the edges and smeared downwards, just like Tim did on his house. The skirt was made by pleating tissue paper and then attaching with tiny staples and a belt of tinsel. I found a very old pinwheel embellishment that worked as a brooch. I made the tissue flower a bit smaller than Tim’s and added a button to the centre. Love the look of the faux German scraps letters and I also cut a border piece from aluminium tape adhered to glossy cardstock. TFL!!
Blogpost: layersofink.blogspot.com/2011/12/12-tags-of-christmas-12....
Supplies: Hero Arts Life of the Party Stars CG299; Distress Ink: Walnut Stain; Distress Stain: Picket Fence, Broken China; Adirondack paint dabber Pool, Juniper, Picket Fence; Rock Candy and Platinum Stickles; grungeboard; Tim Holtz Sizzix Sewing Room, Iron Gate, Typeset dies; Tim Holtz Composer and Terminology tissue wrap; heart pin; pinwheel; aluminium tape; buttons; tinsel; tulle.
Details of James Thomson's offices for the iron traders Connal & Co. Built 1898-1900 in German renaissance style of Locharbriggs sandstone.
Corner of Dundas St and West George St.
Things from a photographic walk into Glasgow.
Workers this week began demolition on the features of the soon-to-be-former north plaza of the art gallery. Light poles, railings, and now something happening to the fountain.
I did a bit of exploring while heading home from Death Valley this past Thanksgiving weekend. The area around Panamint lake always intrigued me. Last year I took a quick look through the remnants of Ballarat. This time I made a left turn off Panamint Valley onto Indian Ranch road. The lake still had a bit of water left over from summer monsoons, and I noticed quite a bit of greenery around the back of the lake. It turned out to be a heavy Mesquite thicket. I thought it may be a good place to find some wildlife to photograph so I grabbed my D7000 and 80-400mm and headed out. First thing I noticed was a maze of narrow trails and very small hoof prints. I wondered through for 30 minutes and didn't see a thing. I was thinking, wild Pigs or maybe Goat.
It was getting kind or eerie seeing nothing around. As I was returning to my Jeep, I saw some irregular shapes up the canyon. Looking through my lens, I finally solved the secret of the trails, yep...Wild Donkey!
I was pretty excited, since I had never seen them in the wild before.
So, If you ever want to get some shots of Wild Burrow...head out to Panamint lake!
A bit of Yorkshire in the East!
This water column in the yard at Rangoon's main railway station (BR is Burma Railways not British Railways BTW) was provided in 1915 by J Blakeborough & Sons, Hydraulic Engineers of Brighouse.
J. Blakeborough & Sons Ltd were a large engineering company established by Joseph Blakeborough in 1866 and whose core business had been the design and manufacture of industrial water valves. The Blakeborough works at Brighouse was closed on 12th April 1989 and all drawings and intellectual rights transferred to GA (Golden Anderson) Valves, Hopkinsons and Blackhall Engineering, who were all part of the Weir Group plc.
last shot of sunset at Point Betsie, just before the last little bit popped below horizon. Not the last shot of evening though... stay tuned for another shot a little later...
Copyright © 2020 by Ian J MacDonald. Permission required for ANY use. All rights reserved
I love old tools and old timey things. Especially old time power tools. Back in the day powertools were so streamlined, sleek and shiny ...they looked like P-51 Mustangs or a Lockheed Electra. They looked like they should be powered by a nuclear reactor inside. I suppose it was inevitable, since they were designed by and used by guys who came back from WWII designed and used these power tools. And in those days America was a "can-do" place and it was reflected in the streamlined, Chrysler building-esque design of everything in the Atomic Age.
@designeour : Round #Social #Media #Icons by Medialoot in #Graphics > #designeour >… bit.ly/1Uqcdvf (via Twitter twitter.com/designeour/status/726838206247763969)
this was shot this for my toy cameras book that came out last year with a Diana. check out the other cameras i included on my site here. you can find out more about the book in this blog post. you can also see a little video flip though of the book on my flickr stream here.
Two bits times 2 = Four bits. It was worth it. I gave this couple a couple of quarters to feed the ducks and keep them busy while I circled around the cement pond to get in position for this shot. Money well spent.
Big Spring Park in Huntsville, Alabama.
Nikon D7500 — Nikon 18-300mm F6.3 ED VR
210mm
F6.3@1/80th
ISO 6400
DSB_0857.JPG
©Don Brown 2025
Here are bits from a SPOT Connect, highlighted in Baudline with a transform size of 1024.
A million thanks to Mike Ossmann for showing me the trick that makes this work.
Ravensburger No. 14 128 9
500 pieces, used and with one piece missing
49 x 36 cm
19 1/3 x 14 1/4 in
TED: "This is anuvver of them Jack Whatisname pikchurs wot we likes. It's peepul goin' on a picnic on the beach but the wind's a bit blowy. We found there wuz a peece missin' which wuz a newsance, but it don't look too bad, duzzit?"
2020 piece count: 20832
Puzzle 27
Clio dressed a bit on the casual side for the social.
Transition Progress at this point: On hormones since 8/1 (6 months); injections since 12/22 (1 month) (7 so far) (E up to an astounding 800!). Full-time female since 9/15 (4.5 months). Publicly out as trans since 10/11 (3.5 months). Legally female since 12/21 (1 month). Have seen endo/primary therapist 5X, and secondary therapists 9X. Weight down to 139lbs (58 down from 197). Hair removal includes 30 electrolysis treatments totaling 23.5 hours; 28 laser hair removal sessions (47 area treatments: 15/14/13/11/8 mouth/goatee/face/neck/armpits, 7 legs/chest, 5 Brazilian/ear); and bi-weekly at-home IPL on arms since 6/17 (8 months). Latisse for eyelash lengthening since 4/17 (10 months). 2 dental implants. Pierced ears. Dyed/layered hair (no haircuts for 3yrs--since 1/2015). Female wardrobe replacement was up to 543 items. Total transition expenditures over $15,600 at this point.
Clio.
posing, standing.
upstairs, Clio and Carolyn's house, Alexandria, Virginia.
February 1, 2018.
... Read my blog at clintjcl at wordpress dot com
... Read Carolyn's blog at CarolynCASL at wordpress dot com