Thursday, June 16, 2011

The grass is always greener where there's grass

As is right & proper, the Duchess & I unfurled a conclusion, a decision if you will, that, once again, escape from the Towering Slab was of vital import, lest the nourishment of our very souls expire in the face of the dread machinations of a brutalist edifice & the horrors lurking therein. Joined in our frolick by the Marquess of Upper Silesia, this exciting (save moi) young (save moi) power trio rocked &/or rolled (read: merrily skipped violently stalked casually walked) the dangerous backwoods of Moses' yon Cleaveland.


















Slow down, maniac! I'm kidding, the Duchess's wheeling's safe as houses.



















This is a smidgen ominous.

















 

Saved from a killer tree by the gentle Peonage! Bless you, unknown sir.



















Even more nature trailing to hell, hiking metal punks are ready.



















14 billion midges swarmed on my monocle, hence this blur of blurs.



















Da Downtown of Da Scandalouzz. Whatever happened to those guys?



















The Callahooga, in all its glory. [ed. note: the drunken flat-land is down a ways, far beyond this vantage point, but flintlock dueling's certainly in earshot]



















Train kept a' rollin'.



















Who would hazard a guess this is a vital cog in national def -- I've said too much.



















The detritus of big city living.



















Spooky abandoned noochies.



















Busy body.



















You ain't stoppin' us, fuzz. You either, bird.



















Insert pithy comment here on the reflection of some unwrapped emo crap.
























Stay the hell away from my spectacle.



















Perfect place for a Mayhem concert. BYOB.*

*blood booze boogie shoes
























I think I'm turning Japanese, I really think so.



















Keep out.



















Don't even think about it, Arizonastan, that's ours.


















 
But you can have these.
























Precious belt of rust. Serendipity, man.



















Wonder how long they'll stay in business.



















The Marquess informed us the botanists call this a supersonic weed.



















If you don't build it, they will come.



















Next time, no whiskey, swear.

17 comments:

okjimm said...

ya, I liked the last sign... No Outside Alcohol... gees, I always prefer mine on the inside.... and I smell better if I am not covered in beer.

ifthethunderdontgetya™³²®© said...

Wait a minute...that river isn't on fire?!?!?

Is this really Cleveland, R.G.?
~

Randal Graves said...

okjimm's here all week, enjoy the veal.

if, look man, I gave you abandonment, rust, garbage, rotting fish, brown industrial water & sure I photoshopped the flora in, but it's my burg.

Karl Franz Ochstradt said...

Supersonic thistle! State highway departments everywhere hate the thistle and states along the Atlantic seaboard have special Thistle Reduction Programs conducted by herbicidal SWAT teams! "Do it for The Roads, Kowalski! Safety off!"

Karl Franz Ochstradt said...

PS: What's the abandoned white-painted USNavy-looking thing?

Randal Graves said...

If there's a thistle in your hedgerow, don't be alarmed now because that's an old Coast Guard station that, according to unseen signage, is slated to have its roof replaced. Don't want precipitation getting on all that dust.

Laura said...

Why does everything look like a military zone?

Some of this looks like post looted Vancouver! :P

((Hugs))
Laura

Mary Ellen/Nunly said...

You have to watch out for those Homeland Security birds. I heard they can dive-bomb you with radioactive poo. Not kidding.

Jim H. said...

You ever try to estimate/calculate the costs of infrastructure, etc. lying in disuse or ruins? Every sidewalk, every sign, every fence, every river barrier, every wall, every moved stone, every belt of rust at some point cost somebody something. Then, maugre the costs, they walked away from it.

thatgirl said...

Dammit Randal, our game is up. There's no escape from those spy pigeons or seagulls!

Randal Graves said...

laura, don't be projecting your disappointment in the death of the kindhearted Canuck on us, pothead!

nunly, Yucca Flats can't hold everything, they've got to do *something* patriotic with all that tasty waste.

jim, and give myself an aneurysm? If you've, you've got the brass.

In all honesty, there actually is a decent amount of green space where we were at, but all the nudists prevented us from a documentary fit for the children.

thatgirl, we need pseudonyms, and quick!

Tom Harper said...

That "ominous" second photo looks like Godzilla disguised as a topiary.

S.W. Anderson said...

Well, that was fun. Nice family outing. Some interesting pix, including the old USCG place (I thought it might be a Naval Reserve station). You realize you're flirting with normalcy, right? :)

Randal Graves said...

tom, no it doesn't. Be quiet.

SWA, normalcy? As if I'd film the truth of us skipping an entire day of work to shoot heroin in the park.

Beach Bum said...

Spooky abandoned noochies

Board up the lower windows and it looks like a great place to ride out the zombie uprising.

susan said...

I'm really beginning to think you may be a candidate for a job with the google as one of their strolling photographers of the lesser known high points of Cleveland. Tourists love that stuff.

Randal Graves said...

BB, as long as we have a boat to sail to Kelley's once we run out of ammo.

susan, sure, Cleveland ain't Paris or Prague, but we've got some purty midst the potholes & sometimes-interesting rust.

Re: The Google. Would I get to spy on government officials?