But the bullet?
Subway in Eugene?
It might've been the Eugene subway or possibly another one. The shootings tend to morph together in my memory and it's sometimes hard to recall where specific bullet holes occurred. But I think it was Eugene. Wait, does Eugene even have a subway?
Good thing the bullet didn't hit your new lens. That would have sucked although I can imagine you would have stuck with it for awhile longer.
If you had been using a Fuji x100, you would be dead now.
Your post makes me wonder if I'm spending way too much time being careful with my camera. I take it with me almost everywhere, but I'm constantly careful that I don't knock it or drop it or whatever. I feel like these things are going to shatter if you look at them the wrong way, you know? Maybe that's a worry that I can do away with. It's kind of annoying feeling like I'm carrying a raw egg with me everywhere I go.
I know what you mean. If I was shooting with a raw egg my hands would be gooey with yolk and small bits of shell. Plus I wouldn't have any photos. Because you can't take pictures with an egg.
I like the Diana nameplate. I sigh a lot. What do you accomplish with long-distance sighing?
Siiii-iigh. Can you hear that long distance? That's me sighing as I realize there's a typo in the graphic. Thanks for the heads up, baduad. And time to pull my head out. Sigh...
update: 'THIS MACHINE SAVES LIBERALS'
"THIS MACHINE IS AN EXTENSION OF MY EGO"
"THIS MACHINE IS AN EXTENSION OF MY ID"
"THIS MACHINE DOESN'T HAVE 40MM FRAME LINES BUT WHO NEEDS FRAME LINES ANYWAY?"
A 40 mm lens allows one to think outside the box of framelines.
"THIS SENTENCE IS AN EXTENSION OF THE COMMENTS"
"THIS MACHINE HELPS DEPLOYED SOLDIERS SURPRISE THEIR CHILDREN AT PUBLIC EVENTS"
Orr returned to downtown Portland by boat. Transportation was still rather confused; pieces, remnants, and commencements of about six different public transportation systems cluttered up the city. Reed College had a subway station, but no subway; the funicular to Washington Park ended at the entrance to a tunnel which went halfway under the Willamette and then stopped. Meanwhile, enterprising fellow had refitted a couple of boasts that used to run tours up and down the Willamette and Columbia, and was using them as ferries on regular runs between Linnton, Vancouver, Portland, and Oregon City. It made a pleasant trip.—U.K. Le Guin, The Lathe of Heaven
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