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About a week or two ago, Clunkline went on an adventure to Breezewood, the magical town of motels that is halfway to everywhere. If materialism took a shit and a highway rest stop rolled in it, you would call it Breezewood. All three of us were excited to have finally arrived at our historic destination, and doctor_subtle’s camera was there to document the entire weeklong vacation.
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| Ancient Breezewoodian petroglyphs in front of the Mexican Temple. | A sign pointing out the Breezewood Beltway and the Breezewood Metro. |
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| The beautiful view from Breezewood Overlook. | A vintage sign from Breezewood’s historic district. |
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| The entrance to Breezewood Museum. | Breezewood postcards for sale in the museum. |
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| doctor_subtle wanted to buy a pink pistol from the museum, but they didn’t complete the background check in time. | J-tin having a tussle with the local wildlife. |
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| I never thought these were real. But Breezewood is where you see everything that you don’t want to be real. And then you buy it. | Wagaa-Pu, the ancient Breezewoodian peoples’ God of Uncleanliness. |
