It was a sultry night, quiet-ISH, muggy, and full of itch. Honestly, I could think of no place I’d rather be more3than about 700 miles in any direction from where I now stood. That said, what's a girl to do when out for late night photography 101 project that should have finished not only hours ago, but days ago?

Left with little choice, a flash-light, a camera and my last can of bumper chrome, I set out through Green bay’s finest "BLECH" to pay homage to the remains of a golden retriever I had found earlier that day. "Two birds with one stone" I said and "two birds with one stone" I meant. It was a great idea, and I was certain, if not through verbal confirmation, then through, predictability, that everyone, be they man or beast, wanted at some point to be... a robot. Maybe even a cyborg, which was more of what we would be going for that evening, and if not to be one... than to look just like one. This, this would be my parting gift. He would get his 15 minutes of fame, it would be grand, and I was comforted that echoing in somewhere from deep within the planes of the afterlife, psychics everywhere would hear weird doggie-robot monster noises.
7-04

Note to traveler: bring gifts for the local culture especially if you wander half atop their homes in the middle of the night. Beavers don’t see very well so you should be fine if you tuck the bumper chrome behind your back and offer him a bit of choice oak or even a few Oreos. But then, tarry not, and migrate quickly away, as the rodent types are quick to be annoyed over breaking their diets in the middle of the night due to clumsy two-legged beings falling on their living rooms.