|Hand filled with beef|
Have you ever been that kind of drunk where you observe off-handedly that the uneaten portion of beef sausage would make for excellent crab bait, and thereon hit upon the idea of carrying it to the beach near sundown and chucking it into the sea? I mean the kind of drunk where the idea of "returning this beef stick to the ocean from whence it came" strikes you as whimsical and interesting rather than merely nonsensical and pointless? To be clear, I speak of the kind of drunk in which you're altered enough to carry out the plan of "returning the beef stick to the sea" but not so altered that you can no longer operate a camera? I mean the kind of drunk in which you're able -- almost -- to convince yourself that chucking some perfectly unspoiled meat into the sunset counts as a piece of performance art rather than an instance of food waste?
I was that kind of drunk a couple of nights ago in Gleneden Beach, Oregon. These are the better photographs I took while in that state.
|Stabilizing the beef against the strong breeze, we behold the scene|
|Last pensive moments|
|Helpful sign, read by no one save for me|