...and no, you can pull out Styru's fingernails but I ain't posting no country because that would be kind of unkind to the gentleman who was nice enough to share this one with me. Thank you, kind gentleman.
Somewhere outside a major Southern European city sit the relics of some loaded bastard's hobby. Some people collect stamps, some people collect coins, some people collect obsolescent Soviet war machinery. This is apparently the result of some gentleman's (one imagines that women generally tend to be more sensible than to spend their cash on this sort of junk) desire to start an obsolescent Soviet war machinery collection.
A bit of fence-hopping, wet-grass-rolling-arounding-inning, and passing-by-triathlete-confusing-the-hell-out-of-ing after arriving and doing the tour around the block about 3 times, getting the evil eye from a bunch of the local grannies, I did my usual paranoid sprint around the damn things in broad daylight. I don't think I need have worried because I was probably imagining the evil eye thing, but I don't think the triathletes were expecting me to ask them for help boosting me and my half-ton of photo gear over the damn fence.
Yes it counts because I had to hop a fence to get there. Sweet jesus, that was a high fence, too. Here, have some toys. For your convenience, a MiG-15, MiG-21, and MiG-23. And yes, they'd removed the machine guns, or I might have considered breaking my "don't steal shit" rule. I've always wanted a machine gun.
Also, admit it, you like jet fighters. Pew pew pew vroom vroom!
Somewhere outside a major Southern European city sit the relics of some loaded bastard's hobby. Some people collect stamps, some people collect coins, some people collect obsolescent Soviet war machinery. This is apparently the result of some gentleman's (one imagines that women generally tend to be more sensible than to spend their cash on this sort of junk) desire to start an obsolescent Soviet war machinery collection.
A bit of fence-hopping, wet-grass-rolling-arounding-inning, and passing-by-triathlete-confusing-the-hell-out-of-ing after arriving and doing the tour around the block about 3 times, getting the evil eye from a bunch of the local grannies, I did my usual paranoid sprint around the damn things in broad daylight. I don't think I need have worried because I was probably imagining the evil eye thing, but I don't think the triathletes were expecting me to ask them for help boosting me and my half-ton of photo gear over the damn fence.
Yes it counts because I had to hop a fence to get there. Sweet jesus, that was a high fence, too. Here, have some toys. For your convenience, a MiG-15, MiG-21, and MiG-23. And yes, they'd removed the machine guns, or I might have considered breaking my "don't steal shit" rule. I've always wanted a machine gun.
Also, admit it, you like jet fighters. Pew pew pew vroom vroom!
More, unfortunately not as usual as I'd like lately, at kosmograd dot net.
