So herbstgelb. 

He is leprechaunish, after all. And jaunty.

Aftermarket clear Lexan hole plugs. Imagine the cost.

FK’s scullions go barefoot, bc classico.

Shadow puppets.

But in ever-appetizing gray.

Teleport. 

True, after miles and miles of warm up.

Lioke the cyber-frog ate his own tongue.

@ all VW heaters. We used to take a catalytic Coleman heater to the ski mountain. Great traction, tho.

Hole doors will be a puzzling barn find down the road. They find just the doors-no Bronco. Hmmm.

Huh. My old Catholic school bus driver-Mrs. LaDue, as well girls’ gym teacher-would have slowed down and ordered us to gawk. ‘So’s you don’t drive funny!’ The good sisters made her look like a lace pantywaist. With a wedgie. 

It will be 4 years before it is ragged out enough for Tracy. Perhaps he will have solved his Troy ordinance problems by then.

Mustang style!

Bronco: A real arse-buster.

And a corpse.

1989. In a Turbo 911.

And cardboard. And a tire.

Makes it easier for snek to get in. Como en Baja California.

When you have fallen in the footwell.