“There are more things in Heaven and Earth, Horatio, than are dreamt of in your philosophy.” Hamlet, Act I, Scene V, 184-185, Shakespeare, about 400 years ago, but STILL a couple million years after dinosaurs.
Today in our “what the actual fuck is going on in Hastings” post, the trilogy is completed with an unlikely encounter. Then again, so far there’s been a hanging tree of stuffed animals and a giant metal chicken (hey, turns out it’s made out of SPOONS, so if you’re into spoon theory that clucker is PREPARED), so what could possibly go wrong?
As a side note, go ahead and google “giant metal chicken sculpture” and be amazed…I am. I had no idea one could be picked up at Walmart, or that they’re so prolific. No, I’m not sorry.
Anyway…across the road from the tractor-driving silver chicken is this dude.
Ok, that may not be what he’s screaming about, since the screamy face is equally fussy in the fall, in my experience. We’ll see what happens when the snow melts. I mean, have you ever been outside in -0 weather and a horrible wind-chill while wearing earrings (or, I suppose a nose, lip, or eyebrow ring, but I don’t have those so I can’t say with firsthand knowledge)? Did you know that metal gets fucking COLD while you’re outside? Imagine if your bones froze while you stood there…seems unpleasant for him. I’d be pissed too.
I assumed this is some sort of velociraptor-type dinosaur protecting the house you can’t see behind him. Rumor has it that house has a whole…herd? Pod? Business? Pack? Murder? What IS the appropriate name for a menagerie of metal dinosaurs? Anyway, they have a bunch. I haven’t stopped in, just caught a couple pictures of this guy who is either sad-wailing for being separated from his peeps or yelling at speeders. I googled this as well, and looky there you can get all sorts of lawn-dinos.
As an aside: if you need a name for your new Metal band comprised of men in their 50’s and 60’s….yeah, you know who you are… you are WELCOME to Menagerie of Metal Dinosaurs. I won’t even charge you a finder’s fee…you’re on your own finding appropriate joint supplements to head-bang on stage without throwing your neck and back out, though.
And this post has gone completely off the rails, which seems appropriate for the end of a trilogy.