Daily Hot Rod


Stumbling home last night, I thought I was having a hallucination of the Stephen King type. We don’t get many of these around hee-ah (I develop a sympathetic New England accent when ever I come in contact with things new England or go North or East of Connecticut).
A 1957 Chevy 3100 series pick up nestled against the garbage tree. I tried to get in closer for interior shots but the rats weren’t having it. Not that a 50 something your old pristine pick up wouldn’t standout anyway, but the thing had Maine plates that indicated it was registered as a farm truck. There were stickers about reading and learning and a picture of somebody who might have dreadlocks on the rear window so I’m guessing the owner is some sort of hippy. And the farm grows organic hemp.



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