Monday, November 19, 2007

Denmark, Denouement

I thought I should finish off and post the last of my parents' pictures from Denmark, although I swear I'm starting to feel like a photoblog. I need to get in a new groove. It's making me grumpy. See...here I am, being all grumpy about being typecast as a photoblogger. I think I'll go do some pillaging in my longboat.


Nothing says love like the glint of light off some distilleries. It's so you can watch yourself drinking what's made inside.


I don't get it. Why does his leg go up like that? It's like it's part of his pecs. If I were built like that, I'd rip my nipples off every time I went for a run.


Bathrooms in Middle Earth. Orcs on the left. Hobbits on the right.


The JFK pub. Because nothing says Irish American like a bar in Denmark.


Girl kissing man humping goat humping man's head. That bottom head is almost like the one I saw in London. Although it looks more like the head that was under that head on the totem. Sort of gets around. Or maybe it bred, being humped by a goat and all. I guess Mr. Tumnus must have had parents of a sort.


An owl. Presumably taken for the benefit of my father in law, who's one of the great owl collectors of our times. Artistic ones - not real ones - I don't want to get him in trouble with the raptor center. I look forward to the day Eryn inherits his owls and my mother's ducks. No no...I'm not looking forward to grandparentcide...I'm just looking forward to some sort of weird battle royale like when the eagles fought in The Hobbit. We'll restage it with ducks and owls for YouTube.


You can't really see it unless you click through. But it's Damn Good Coffee. That it can drive to you wherever you are is definitely a point in its favor.


Hmm...Damn Good Coffee or Probably the Best Beer in Town. Choices, choices.


An interesting picture of an air raid shelter. I think those double doors are big enough to accommodate the Damn Good Coffee car. But then you'd have to leave behind the beer and the distilleries. Doh. It's a very scenic air raid shelter, which is almost ironic, except that in the end it's just pleasing that someone would use their air raid shelters so seldom they turn into pretty leaf-strewn mounds.


Ha ha ha. I laugh not at this picture, but at my sister, because I've made her sit through several posts and dozens of pictures just to get to the pictures she finally wanted to see. On the right is Katja, the foreign exchange student that stayed with my parents and sister (I was out of the house) when my sister was in high school. My folks spent some time in Denmark visiting. The last time I saw Katja was when she put the hurt on my brother at Grandma's Marathon. They weren't really racing, but he lost anyway.


The rest of the photos.

1 comment:

Anonymous said...

Regarding the air raid shelter comment, I would instead recommend in favor of driving the Damn Good Coffee bar over to the distillery, by way of "Probably the Best Beer in Town". One could just hunker down there amongst the stills and hope for the best, or, perhaps emboldened by the products of the establishment, stand outside mocking the bombs as they drop.

I suppose one could drive the coffee bar to the distillery, the brewery and then the air raid shelter, but it seems to lack the devil-may-care attitude that makes the first option so attractive....