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Panama
December 27, 2007 to January 6, 2008
From the chilling throes of harshest Winter, Lynne, Tim, Chelsea, Jeremy, Sarah and Andre seek sultry respite in the Panamanian jungle of Central America. Little were they aware of what awaited them: Trials and treasures! Canines and simians!! Coconuts and chloroquine!!! Number three!!!! Join these mavericks now as they begin their journey in the wild urban landscape of Panama City... (trip locations here) |
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At this point in the trip (the beginning) the Christmas
decorations were still acceptable. Later on--say,
around January 4--the remaining decorations seemed a little
outdated, as it were. This scene (where are the camels?!)
was at the Plaza de Francia in the Casco Viejo neighborhood
of the city.
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Dangling above the manger (see tufts, lower right), a camouflage-legged
gentleman demonstrates the finer points of squeegeeing-whilst-holding-oneself-aloft
in an unnecessarily dangerous display of window-washing prowess.
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A slew of canal-bound vessels await the morning rush hour.
Evidentally, the big boats go first in the morning. (I’d tell
you more, but Sarah and I arrived in the second shift, after
the canal trip. We could have gone, but then you wouldn’t
be looking at this nifty picture!)
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The burgeoning metropolis of Panama City. It’s hard to
tell from this distance, but about half of the buildings are
still capped with construction cranes. Billboards and
cab drivers alike urge you to “Invest in Panama real estate!”
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There was a pretty dramatic tidal difference. We happened
to be walking around at low tide when Andre spotted this coralized
(?) tree trunk washed up amongst the tide pools skirting Casco
Viejo.
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A bustling scene of con- and de-structrion. (I was clearly
spotted.)
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More rundown-ness of Casco Viejo.
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“A ballsy arch.” --Jeremy
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Casco Viejo is quickly becoming gentrified and as such has many
juxtapositions of refurbished and decrepit buildings.
It was a treasure trove for Andre’s rust- and corrugated-iron-seeking
photographic cravings!
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Thanks to this dude, and Tim’s fondness for song, Andre had
“Feliz Navidad” stuck in his head for four goddamn days. Fucker.
He was pretty damn good though...
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The whole neighborhood is reminiscent of New Orleans what
with the abundance of porches and all. (The plant doesn’t
have anything to do with that... I just thought it was neato.)
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No shame. (And no manners neither.)
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There is no greater testament to the impact of the current generation
than the disposable plastic cup. Centered in the frame,
the sight of a plastic cup in one of its many natural environments
(here on the steps of a cathedral) conjures up many provocative
images. (Cups have been spotted stateside as well:
click!)
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The cathedral had these beautiful old wooden statues.
Not the best choice of material, perhaps, but the weathered
effect of aging is fantastic!
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Sneaky candle shot inside the cathedral.
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Outside of Casco Viejo there were a lot of little markets
crammed into shady alleys. We saw one with toilets,
boat propellers, and t-shirts on the way in, but walking
back all we could find were pineapples, cucumbers and tomatoes
(oh my!).
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A diablo rojo (a municipal bus) enthusiastically approved
of by Ronaldinho. These roaring, Warriors-esque
monsters were flying around every city street. Apparently
they only cost a quarter, but none of us had the guts to jump
on one and find out where they go. Every one of them is
hand-painted with a weird mishmash of nonsense (Quick Draw McGraw,
Snidely Whiplash, and a Brazilian soccer legend with dragons
and a rural watermill?!). We also saw the Stone Cold Steve
Austin and Harry Potter buses.
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Not a city for the casually-minded pedestrian, Panama boasts
a great number these crippling sidewalk caverns which frequently
appear without warning. The roads aren’t great either.
(Out of the cabs I was in, 80% had cracked windshields.)
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I don’t know how long it takes air-dry a pair of jeans in Panama
given the heavy humidity, but I know that sometimes even an
hour on high isn’t enough for mine. (Damp crotch-seams are the
worst!)
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Jeremy had already been here. Here he is, pewing it up
instead of feigning interest.
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This was an over-the-window-sill shot of an indoor market.
Who knows what they sold or how to get in?! (Not me.)
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A local Panamanian casually walks past skulking white giant.
(Note the Mel Gibson-themed bus in the background.)
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In the main marketplace (Plaza Cinco de Mayo), this dude kept
a vigilant ladder-top watch over his wares.
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The city gets grimy pretty quickly when one strays from the
main drags. Soon after this shot Andre and Sarah--obviously
tourists--were warned to turn around if they didn’t speak Spanish.
(Forget all those beers. Cerveza Panama is where it’s
at.)
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Ginger roots nestled amongst a bunch of weird red things for
sale.
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Directions for using the “explorer of Internet.” Let this
one cycle through all three slides to enjoy the full extent
of my unfair and pretentious amusement with poor translations.
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Diablo rojo from above. We later learned that the
decals obstructing all but a sliver of the maniacal drivers’
vision indicated the bus’s probable destination.
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And in case you didn’t believe it was a hotel...
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From atop the roof our Lonely-Planet-recommended hotel, a better
shot of downtown Panama City.
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A toilet.
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Absorbed in his book, Tim is apparently unaware of something
horrible and disgusting.
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The view out of the Albrook “Marcos A. Gelabert” International
Airport cafeteria. Despite the collected grease, the food
was quite tasty!
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A Panamax! As Tim would have you know, these suckers are
the largest vessels capable of passing through the canal locks
(with a mere 24 inches of clearance to either side!).
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The rickety-ass plane that took us to Bocas del Toro.
Not pictured: the children, dogs, and soccer field that formed
part of the runway.
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Couldn’t figure this one exactly, but apparently people without
small daggers in their feet are more than welcome to put their
feet anywhere they choose.
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Irresistible rain-sprinkled flower.
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And just above that hammock, Andre spied a barreling Caribbean
point break.
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One of the hotel’s many delightful hammocks. It was, unfortunately,
a little soggy during the rainy rainy season.
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...which had a vertical shower head.
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A psyched-but-blurry Sarah digs her room in the beautiful Hotel
La Coralina...
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Gringa, one of three fantastic dogs living at the hotel.
It was a rare occurrence to go for a walk unaccompanied
by 1-3 happy pooches.
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Unaware of what he would find around the next corner, Andre
snapped shot of some roadside garbage. And then...
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The dump! This was the landfill for the whole island.
In this picture, the garbage level is a little low, owing to
the bridge having been washed out for several days. Once
back in place, there was a constant stream of precariously laden
trucks. And then they set the dump on fire.
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A closer, garbage-flanked view of the pitching barrel from several
pictures ago. The spot was called “Dumpers.” We had thought
it was named for the heavy lip being thrown down onto the reef.
Turns out, that was not the case...
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Another hollow peak just north o Dumpers.
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Playa Paunch. The break that would soon snap Andre’s
first borrowed board. There was a consistent head-high
swell the entire week.
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Christmas tree (a least color-wise) next to the road.
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Despite the fact that Balboa apparently grows on trees, Cerveza
Panama is still the best.
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I only just figured out that this was a breadfruit. Had I
known at the time, I probably would have buttered that shit up!
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Sarah was complaining that she wasn’t in enough of the pictures.
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Holy shit. I’m submitting this little monkey with
little girl to
cuteoverload.com. Edgar the monkey, a free-range
resident of the hotel, was definitely one of the trip highlights.
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Lola the dog, in an uncharacteristically calm and reflective
mood.
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A spider and a wet web.
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Fence posts left alone long enough, I’ve heard, will eventually
turn back into trees.
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One of many parades of leafcutter ants that we came across.
According to Lynne these little dudes bring their leaf chunks
back to their hill, let them rot, and then eat them. For
some reason, they insist on traveling great distances to obtain
said chunks. (Why not just put the hill closer to the tree?)
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Ridiculously lush point at the southern end of Bluff Beach.
(See if you can spot the rainbow!)
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Lynne spotted this ominous cloud above the trees at bluff beach.
(Andre’s 50mm prime lens couldn’t get the whole thing in one
frame, but that didn’t stop him.)
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The third and oldest of the dog posse: Sugar (Azucar?).
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To get to Bluff Beach, we had to wade through some tadpole-filled
brackish pools. Stacey, the owner of the hotel, said the
pools are nice to bath in, but personally I didn’t want any
of these critters squirming around where the sun don’t shine.
(The big one’s got legs!)
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There are so damn many of these ants that they actually end
up wearing a visible path in the jungle floor. You can
see a yellow trail of them going down the center of the photograph.
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There was a lot of beach front real estate for sale.
Cheap, but not too cheap.
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As if Andre wasn’t feeling bad enough about the borrowed board
he snapped earlier that day, the road-side garbage provided
a friendly reminder.
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Well-fed buzzards relaxing after a long day at the dump.
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The snapped board. (I got caught inside on a big cleanup set.
Despite assurances that it happens all the time, I still felt
like a big putz. It was a pretty heavy wave though...)
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Each room came with at least one personal mosquito-eating gecko.
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Edgar keeping Sarah under control.
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Jeremy and Edgar each offering to pick the other one up.
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Lynne succumbing to Edgar’s flagrant abuse of his adorableness.
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Ready for a bunch of outrageous monkey pictures?
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The little binoculars make Cranium’s cranium look even bigger!
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Lousy little monkey took (and promptly tried to eat) my
lens cap.
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Presumably to encourage the nightly onslaught of malarial mosquitoes,
large decoy insects were mounted in various places around the
outdoor restaurant.
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There were a lot of these on the road into town. Andre
discovered that the best way to avoid losing a flip flop was
to plow right through the center, thus avoiding the sandal-sucking
mud on either side.
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A sliver of no-trespassing land between the road and the sea.
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Sarah wasn't at all scared by this citrus-y roadside snake...
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Irresistibly photogenic gecko on a light.
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Amidst the New Year’s celebrations at La Coralina, a giant green
insect found its way inside. (Rumor had it that if you poked
it, you could see it’s bright orange wings but risked a six
inch bug flying into your face.)
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A stray.
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Evidence of leaf cutter ants? Perhaps. If so, they’re
neat (though a little wasteful and not symmetrically-minded)
little buggers!
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These monkeys, on the other hand, were a different story.
When Andre and Sarah first walked past them, Andre was convinced
that there was some manner of hog pen in the jungle. This
frightened Sarah, who had had firsthand experience with wild
boar. Only as they passed it a second time did they spot
the big primates in the trees. See if you can spot all
three! (They’re all named Waldo.)
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Just before ten o’clock, a moderately sauced woman came
around and insisted that we needed New Year’s hats. (She
was intent on celebrating Rio de Janeiro New Years, so she
could get to bed two hours earlier.) Here, sick and about
to crash, Andre and Sarah show off their head gear.
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At first I thought there was another giant insect flying around
inside. Closer inspection, however, revealed an adorable
(baby?) hummingbird.
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Inappropriate bug activities on the lamp above Chelsea’s favorite
table.
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A couple of local dudes, one of whose glasses don’t seem very
effective.
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The main town on Isla Colon was awesome! Very laid back
and you could pretty much speak whatever language you wanted.
The houses are simple and everyone seems to hang out on their
front porches. It made Andre and Sarah jealous for that
kind of community.
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The interstate-sign-esque label seems to encourage drinking
and driving.
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Typical Bocas dwelling. Low maintenance and colorful (especially
the clothespins).
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This beer on the roof is half empty. (Visible in the background
is the charming rooftop deck where a romantic dinner for two
awaited any hostel guest brave enough to drink 100 beers during
their stay.)
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The cheapest (and admittedly the only) Cristal I’d ever had.
(Diddy ought to find a supplier in Panama!)
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Jeremy, the only of the team who had the physical capacity for
a proper NYE, stopped at this party. He told us of a man
whose chest was so hairy, he simply shaved a tie out of it.
Gross. (This was confirmed when Andre rented a surfboard from
the same guy the next day. He was tickled when he heard
about what a celebrity he’d become.)
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Satellite dishes above one of the town’s main youth hostels.
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More festive than creepy, Andre and Sarah found this neat graveyard
on the island of Bastimentos (the Bastifreshmaker?). Most
of the graves were above ground in these tile-covered tombs.
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Bastimentos chicken...
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...and dog. The dog is resting in one of the area’s unique
longboats. I think the way this boat is decaying and becoming
more jungle-like is really interesting. (Functioning boats to
the right...)
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Functioning boats. Dugouts?
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A lot of the houses are built above the water on Bastimentos.
Pretty sweet (although I’m pretty sure the toilet in the
restaurant where we had lunch flushed directly into the
same water).
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Fossilized dog-prints in a sidewalk on Bastimentos.
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A couple of days later, in this exact spot, we saw a person
in a dragon/devil costume whipping little kids. The kids
would try to sneak up behind the diablo and would run away screaming
when he jumped around and started whipping their legs.
The kids had sticks to protect themselves, but also seemed pretty
psyched to show off their welts to one another.
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A couple of Bastimentos boards.
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This pedestrians-only causeway was the main road through the
town on Bastimentos (and, coincidentally, the driest road Sarah
and Andre saw on the whole trip).
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Chelsea, in a characteristic pose.
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In an attempt to convince himself that he was feeling better,
Andre wandered around the hotel grounds take pictures of (you
guessed it): plants.
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The mega spider and her mate, just outside of Lynne and Tim’s
bedroom.
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The highlight of the trip for Sarah was the uninhabited (though
tourist-loaded) Zapatilla Cays. Tim was upset by the park
rangers who came around to collect fees. Everyone else
was upset by Tim’s speedo.
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I can’t figure out how a coconut could have lodged itself onto
one of those rocks long enough to sprout into a tree.
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Big old crazy tree back in Bocas Town.
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Got the coconut out! From here it was an easy poke with
the keys to get the coconut milk out. And everyone partook
of the sweet refreshments. And there was much rejoicing!
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Remembering a traumatic experience from his youth when he and
his brother spent an entire day trying to open up a coconut
without success, Andre ventures to give it another go.
Using the end of this log and his keys, he attacked the thick,
fibrous husk with wild abandon and...
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Further down the beach from the shark, was a large pile of human
skulls. The Zapatilla Cays were turning out to be pretty
treacherous indeed!
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Tim spotted this shark.
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We had heard about a fantastic pizza place in town called
Alberto’s. We were told that there was a sign on the
main road that had directions for how to find the place.
This is that sign. (Jeremy, Sarah, and Andre did manage
to find the place. And yes... the pizza was fantastic.)
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No shirt, no shoes, no problem!
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I still have no idea what these waxy little fruites are.
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Two seconds earlier, this cat’s head was totally thrown backwards
over the chair.
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Here’s a whole bunch of little fishes and some garbage!
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Portrait of the Artist in His Father’s Sunglasses
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The lovely Chelsea posing for a picture.
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And if you thought that the crazy old tree from several pictures
back wasn’t crazy enough, there was a hanger in it too!
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Good advice. Bad spelling.
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Evidence of NYE festivities.
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These guys are giving Tierney and Tierney a real run for
their money in the inappropriate apostrophe department.
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Chelsea: “Oh how cute! They all washed their pants on
the same day!”
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Cheap-as-shit, comfortable and fast-drying. The original:
Jumbo flip flops.
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After snapping one of the hotel’s boards, Andre thought it would
be best to rent one from somewhere else. Unfortunately,
that ended up in this tiny (5'11") P.O.S. Nifty design
though! It probably could have been an early 1990s Olympics
logo.
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Jeremy, looking “scary and German” in front of the hotel’s Pinzgauer.
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Packed and ready to go, Chelsea pointed out the matching color
scheme of all our luggage.
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Though it smelled delightful, the airport Christmas tree had
several out-of-tune carol-playing ornaments.
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And the Pinzgauer in all it’s glory! This thing had a
hand-operated accelerator and scared the shit out of all of
us every time it backfired. It was, however, the most
stylish ride into town we could imagine. A local native
agreed and jumped in the back with us when we slowed down for
a puddle.
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