Wednesday, September 7, 2011

A day in the life of a gentle hippie

Gathering in the mushrooms.


The village of jack o' lanterns.

The fairy feller's master six-stroke divebomb & flyover.

Deep meditation & frisky composition,
i.e. verse, you're perilously close to becoming a basketball,
here, a death cap meal or embrace this destroying angel


The last notes of ink ring out in the rusty Jeep

in harmony with yon lovely song of Trees.

Euro 2012 qualifiers on the AV computation box.

Peace & long life.
Live long & prosper.


ifthethunderdontgetya™³²®© said...

I see you found the magic ones.

Anonymous said...

Theee yon squirrele, hee hast thou in hist glare!

Jim H. said...

Thanks for the Trees. Did not know them. A la Fairport, Steeleye, etc. Great pics. You seem like such a fun guy.
[Sorry about that]

@if: I didn't see a pic of the magic ones

@KFO: No. This guy strikes again.

Lisa said...

This looks quite wholesome. Should I worry?

Randal Graves said...

if, call me Psilocybin Laden.

karl of the österreich, all this hippie-nesse makes me feel icky.

jim, only put out two albums but I highly highly highly recommend picking them up.

Yes, we're ignoring your attempt at humor.

lisa, of course not. I left out the bits about the spousal Cold War and looking in the verse mirror and not liking what I see. Emo cracker's not dead yet.

S.W. Anderson said...

I'm down with fungi photos, as long as no toes and nails are involved.

Randal Graves said...

Where do you think the shrooms were cultivated?

thatgirl said...

ah, what a life of simple luxury thou leadest, gentle Parmastani!

susan said...

Am I to understand the library grounds were laced with fungal spores?

Demeur said...

And just how do you think he makes it through an eight hour day amongst the Peonage?

Randal Graves said...

thatgirl, you should see me tiptoeing through the tulips.

susan, not officially, though the campus did suffer a fruit fly invasion during the summer, true story.

demeur, booze, booze & more booze. All the local shamans stole our psilocybin crop.