When Sarah was here, she begged and begged to go to the fisherman’s wharf. I agreed that we could go, but declared that I would not like it and refused to have any fun. Truth be told, it was actually kind of enjoyable, but I pretended to have a terrible time so as not to send Sarah mixed messages.
Sure, the number of “fishermen” seemed somewhat dubious, but any time you get me next to bodies of water I am generally happy.
While at the wharf, we visited the Musée Mécanique, which is full of demonic machines powered by orphan hearts.
This thing… I cannot describe. Its laughter is the sound of a million kittens being murdered.
Oh yeah, various avian life enjoys my apartment complex. This… egret(?) visited, looking for loose koi, goldfish, and whatever that other fish is that looks to Don like trout.
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