My comrades and I are getting along just fine. We have the occasional argument about which version of gin rummy is better, but those tiffs are just to keep things interesting.
It’s no surprise you learn a lot about the people you travel with. I knew Misha likes blue a lot, but this is just ridiculous. If I didn’t know better, I’d think he aspires to be a smurf or a member of the Blue Man group like the great Tobias Funke.
Blake has an underbite and sharp teeth. This supports my ongoing suspicions that he is in fact a vampire. He also likes to bite things and complains every time I try to drive a stake into his heart.
Misha’s portrait was taken as we lounged on the grass in front of the Kremlin eating ice cream.
Blake’s was taken en route to Irkutsk. The photo communicates that he was sandwiched between sparkling white cotton sheets as he drifted into a gentle slumber on his own terms. WRONG. If this photo had been cropped, the other part would probably show madness of all sorts. Drunks running around and vomiting, kids doing tumbles with my camera in hand, cattle being escorted down a path only a foot wide. CATTLE. Just kidding about that last part, but I wouldn’t put it past this train to introduce livestock to third class.
It’s 9:30 am here, off to Lake Baikal once I can get these tard muffins out of bed.