Here is my car. It is filled with camp.
My tent seems to have grown some mold since it was last used.
Here, Megan poses with barbecue tools.
I unsuccessfully attempted to start a fire.
This is a giant slug. Our neighbor asked how I knew it wasn't a poop, I said because it was moving.
Here is a smaller, spotty one.
Our camping neighbor (who, coincidently, was also from Roseburg) explained that I was making the fire wrong.
I keep telling Megan not to turn the camera sideways.
Here are some people practicing their golfing on the beach.
Do I need to comment on every picture?
Can't we just enjoy the pictures without my asinine commentary once in a while?
This would make a fine inspirational poster.
This one is, slightly, less inspiring.
There were several beach parties going on within 20 feet of one another.
These are the Pentecostals. They had a crate filled with snakes in the back of their truck.
This young survivalist was digging a hole (a trench?). We made a point to keep our distance.
This is a Hispanic family. They seemed the most welcoming, so in the end we hung out with them.
These are some angry teenagers having a palette fire.
2 comments:
If you really joined the Mexican family fiesta then why aren't there any photographs of of you:
1. holding a festive beverage;
2. in a poncho;
3. with your arm around any of them; or
4. helping them stoke their fire?
1. I didn't think people would want to look at pictures of me in my poncho, so I deleted them.
2. Are you calling me a liar?
because A. those be fighting words.
and B. What are you the proof police?
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