My Old BraMy old bra hangs from the plastic leg of a black suitcase with a missing wheel. Once, when it was young and new, it fit perfectly. It hugged my breasts like a tender lover. Now it hangs limp and wrinkled, its once brilliant white material now a much less radiant gray. So threadbare you can see through it in places. Too fragile to be tossed around in the dryer, it dangles by a strap in front of the heater. She was a loving mother who couldn't control her children for very long. They were cruel to her as they were to all the mothers before them. My poor oldMy Old Bra
My camera is broken :(
Miserable
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Remember remember, the Fifth of November
Gunpowder treason and plot
I see no reason why gundpowder treason
Should ever be forgot
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More Than Photography
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Nah Nah Nah, Nah Nah Nah, Nah Nah Nah, Nah Nah Nah Nah Nah, Nah Nah Nah...Vindaloo, Vindaloo, Vindaloo, Vindaloo, Vindaloo Nah Nah, Vindaloo, Vindaloo, Vindaloo, Vindaloo Nah Nah, Vindaloo, Vindaloo And we all like Vindaloo, ENGLAND!
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