View allAll Photos Tagged hell
The coffin of Gerry Tobin is carried by Hell's Angels into Mortlake Crematorium. Gerry Tobin, a Hell's Angel was shot dead on the M40 motorway in Warwickshire on August 12 as he rode back from the Bulldog Bash biker festival.
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The spirit of Guns'n'Roses is alive and well in Sydney. This is The Hell City Glamours backstage at the Gaelic Club.
The canyon of Hell Raving Creek draining the Pantheon Range, just downstream of Middle Lake. Taken on a flight out of the Waddington Range back to Bluff Lake.
Helles & Gretel is a classic Munich lager brewed with Tettnang and Hallertau hops. With subtle grain notes, subdued hop character, and muted malt sweetness, Helles & Gretel is the beer to have with you when you’re lost in the woods. There is nothing Grimm about that.
An array of wall surfaces, crystal covered rocks and amazingly delicate calcite formations all packed into a small side passage in Daren Cilau. One hell of an interesting cave and a great sporting trip too.
A Sears that has gone out of business and is being torn down ... guess someone found the way to Hell. (The faint X over the image is from shooting through a chain link fence.)
Hell_2018-04-01_8163_WatchungNJ
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Don't Fall from the bridge
You can't return to human world
Tom and Carole at the Hell's Gate turnaround on Hell's Revenge, high above Moab, Utah. (c) 2013 Tom Kelly
Detail from 'The Fall of the Rebel Angels'.
The Jeroen Bossche Art Centre, housed in what was formerly the New St James church since 2007. The church was built 1905, the third one on the site, it was designed by Jan Stuyt and Jos Cuypers.
Fotos para el Web Magazine The Concert in Concert (www.theconcertinconcert.com/) Kreator + Arch Enemy + Hell + Drone - La Riviera - Madrid - 29/11/14
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Sunday, September 13, 2020
Set up has been rough at Pirateland. The spaces are tight and getting to the space is tighter. We finally settled down four days into the trip. We took a ride into Myrtle to see where the old pavilion was and the first thing we see at a circle K right across from Mammy’s is a guy beating the hell out of a woman. So I pulled in the lot really fast and he saw a big truck aimed at him. He backed off just a little. Vera got on the phone and we couldn’t get through to 911 because the signal was breaking up. I looked around to see if this was a set up and it didn’t look like it. Anther guy we saw was were there to help so he jumped in and we kept them apart. Vera couldn’t get through on my phone either. About four other cars sat there and were filming. The victim took a few good shots and gave a few herself but she got to her car. Another lady in the lot consoled her and we stayed there until everything seemed to calm down. We left the beater sitting on the curb. He looked beyond messed up. So we did a good deed. We couldn’t believe the change in the town. We saw a lot of gold teeth and pink hair! Later that week Trina told me a couple was shot trying to break up a fight.
We have one of the best spots in the camp but for millions of lake bugs at night. But they go away. Oh we saved some ducks from two asshole teenagers that tried to run them down with a golf cart. There must be hundreds of carts here. I think the carts out number the bugs.
The fish jump in the lake and Aroo got her first taste of salt water. So far she liked the edge of the water better. She has made a few friends and likes to cuss at everybody. Taco is holding the fort down. She told everyone to stay six feet apart from me, but to give her plenty of scratches. She made sure I stood back so the hot ladies she was picking up couldn’t give me the same good scratches she was getting!
Download speed: 2.9 mps
Upload speed: .06 mbps
I thought it was impossible to be that slow!
Pirateland has a bad sewer problem at night. Lots of parks seem to have the same problem, but this is extraordinarily bad. I wonder why nobody swims in the bays in the park. All but a couple of the store staff are extremely difficult. It is like they intentionally are trying to run away customers. One of the staff members has a bad gum problem and you can hear her snap it as she orders people around the store. The electric hook up in my spot looks like it was jury rigged. The sewer fitting is so high the tanks don’t drain unless you work the hose. It seems like all of the campgrounds have had fire problems except for the State Park. The campgrounds all but the State Park have full time condos or single wide trailers built with a deck patio. If you happen to be coming down one of the roads and someone has company it takes an extra hour to get them out of the way so you can get your trailer through. For example we got goose necked by a work crew with no information from the gate security.
Beyond this thread but important to my friends.Some police blotters I missed while I was gone.
ktla.com/news/local-news/l-a-county-sheriffs-deputy-shot-...
Vacations take planning and work. After a long drive home our security gate keeper got your code wrong for the second time in the same trip. So i took my woman to the nearest church and walked her home. i went back and camped out on the other side of the fence. it’s always something. If i had to I would go back to buggy Pirateland but I’d bring a head net to put over my head so I wouldn’t inhale so many bugs! By my photos you would think I was at a fisherman’s paradise. But even the die hard fisherman went home and the spiders came out to feast on the bugs!
A late afternoon Amtrak Regional Train heads across the "Little Hell Gate" trestle en route to NY Penn Station.
Lucky Hell.
Taboo Barcelona Burlesque Nights.
21st December 2013,
Sala Apolo,
Barcelona.
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Hells Gate is an abrupt narrowing of British Columbia's Fraser River, located immediately downstream of Boston Bar in the southern Fraser Canyon. The towering rock walls of the Fraser River plunge toward each other forcing the waters through a passage only 35 metres (115 ft) wide.
Wake up at 5:00am and Elias drives me to the airport.
I go through security in Calgary and get pulled aside for additional screening
Flight to Toronto is good, pick up luggage at customs
Customs officer decides to send me for additional screening
Additional screening - I get my finger prints scanned and my picture taken
The customs guy here has issues with the travel letter from work and denies me access to the US. I need to call work and get proof of my education and information about getting a visa to be able to work in the US.
HR department has misplaced the copies of my education documents - Elias needs to leave work to go home and get them (he is awesome and drops everything to do this)
The project administrator is dealing with the legal department trying to figure out what we can give these guys as this have never been an issue before
During my waiting I miss my flight to Boston
Pay $12 for fax of documents
Get boarding pass for new flight to Boston and back in line for customs
Make it back to the same guy and he says, "hmmm didn't think you were actually going to come back." Huh? I am going for work retard of course I came back.
He humms and haaaaas over my documents some more and really doesn't want to let me through. Ends up charging me $50 to buy a 1 year NAFTA Visa thingy
Flight to Boston is good
I pick up my rental car (Toyota Corolla), but the fob doesn't work, no big deal
Drive 30+ minutes to get to my hotel, which I called in Toronto to let know that my schedule was delayed
I get to the hotel and they are sold out and don't have a room for me, but they do have one at another hotel a little ways away
GAHHH!!!!
I am now checked in to my hotel for tonight, and thankfully have all my luggage. I will be checking into my original hotel tomorrow after work.
Time for this grumpy traveller to get some sleep.
This is what I imagine office hell to be like. You walk in every day, feeling like you are one of hundreds of other rats working all around you. The words rat race get a whole new dimension in this building. Please avoid this in your life for the sake of your sanity! ;-)
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On the banks of the Snake River in Hells Canyon, SE Washington. Photographed on April 26, 2015 for Worldwide Pinhole Photography Day using a Voightlander 116 roll film camera converted to a pinhole. The film is expired mystery 616 film exposed at 12 ISO. The pinhole is 0.5mm diameter, I had it set at about a 135mm focal length which gave me f/270. Semi-Stand developed in Adonal (Rodinal) 1-100 for 1 hour.
Much of Hells Kitchen still consists of low-rise tenement buildings. This is as a result of the "Special Clinton District" regulation established by the City of New York in 1972.
The Special Clinton District consists of three distinct regulations:
1) Preservation Area: The area from 43rd to 56th Streets between 8th and 10th Avenues must consist of residential buildings less than 7 stories tall. (What you see above)
2) Perimeter Area: 8th Ave between 42nd & 57th St allowed for larger residential and commercial buildings
3) Mixed Use Area: 10th and 11th Avenues between 43rd and 50th Streets for mixed residential and manufacturing buildings.
After September 11th, Mayor Bloomberg relaxed many building regulations which led to a building boom in Hells Kitchen. Many new buildings are currently in construction or have been built in what used to be the preservation area.
The white lights at an angle show that shunting is permitted in this direction, while the signal boxes with a LED square show that the switch/point is set correctly for straight ahead travel. The number six in a triangle means that the next speed is 60 km/h.
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Hell played in Paris on April 6th of 2012
Le Bataclan venue.
I'll admit it. Sometimes I send off for those glossy magazines and brochures of exotic places just so I can see everywhere I could be and everywhere I'm not. At first, it was a little bit masochistic. I'd flip through those arid deserts and humid jungles and crowded, jumbled streets and I'd compare. Those bleak landscapes to my almost bleaker suburbia. I'd look at all the places I wanted desperately to be at tht moment. I let the longing, sweet and bitter, well up in me until I had my car keys in hand and aa.com at my fingertips. I'd find myself looking up into the blue cloudless skies and imagined myself soaring though them to there, somewhere, anywhere but here. I let the desire to escape overwhelm the destination. I wanted to travel for so many of the wrong reasons.
But I've figured out the problem. When I looked at those pictures, I was seeing nothing more than impossibilities. I look at them now, or at least try to, and see the possibilities in them. I spread those same distant photographs out on my bedspread. But now my fingers don't stroke the glossy fingers, but the broad elephant leaves of the jungle. I nestle myself deep into the roots of the ancient gods of the jungle and let them wrap their arms around me so tight, a mother's embrace that's held so much life within it's grasp before, so many before me and so many after. And those gnarled hands that twist and entertwine above me, protectng and loving, until I'm underwater in this emerald world. And I lay back and watch that kalediscope sky above me, those shifting shades and shapes of green that shake and shimmer in the windy summer day and I feel the kalediscope world beneath me, the dying leaves and sprouts pushing up around me, the life that springs from death and the death that springs from life, a melding of the very worst and best forces of nature until the two are nearly indistinguishable. A howler monkey cries off in the distant. The ants go marching two-by-two carrying the cookie-cutter crumbs of the gods on their backs, but they'll bring the giants tumbling down and the fierce cry of the howler will fall silent all through the patience of jigsaw teeth. This world will rebuild and destroy itself in ture without the touch of human hands. And it makes me feel so large and so small. But my size doesn't matter. My name, my face, my history doesn't matter. My very essence loses some essential worth. Because none of it matters when I am apart of it all and all is apart of me.
So when I take those glossy magazines in my hands and run my fingers down the faraway lands. I'm not merely escaping where I am, but I'm bringing a bit of that jungle with me. The shadow tread of a panther that prowls in my step. Or that fierce game of predator and prey in my eyes. Or maybe new eyes all together. Because when I am in those distant forests, its very life is in me. I am so much greater than the sum of my parts. And even the ebb and flow of suburbia can't shake that from my bones.