2. aurora-b:

    The Indestructible Hilux

    (via topgear)


  3. d0gbl0g:

    oh no pls no aaaahhhhhhhh!

    (via paulosaurus)



  5. dutchster:

    he looks so pleased in the end “DID YOU SEE THAT?”

    (Source: huffingtonpost, via paulosaurus)



  7. sevvey6:


    (Source: yogurtconpapasfritas, via paulosaurus)


  8. ianference:

    The hardest abandoned building shoot of my life.  On May 31, 2007, I brought someone on a first date to Hudson River State Hospital in Poughkeepsie, NY.  (Yes, asylums are a not-unusual first date location for me.)  Walking towards the sprawling Kirkbride-plan asylum, I smelled something like a BBQ - and assumed some other travelers had brought a grill and were cooking on the roof of Admin or something.  But when we got into the basement, the smell was stronger.  That seemed odd, but I didn’t put two and two together.  Then we climbed up into the Male Ward tower.  I looked out the window.  My jaw dropped.

    About a half-hour before we parked and started walking in, there had been a terrible lightning storm which we waited out in the car.  Apparently, during this storm, lightning had struck the century-and-a-half-old asylum’s roof and it caught fire.  When I looked out that window, I saw the roof of my favorite ward in the entire building completely ablaze.  My date wanted to leave the burning building.  I wanted to stay.

    I stayed inside the asylum for three and a half hours, photographing the fire as it crept closer and closer to the ward I was in.  All of a sudden, the tower began to rapidly fill with a dense, acrid black smoke.  I packed what gear I could, accidentally leaving behind a blanket my late grandmother gave me, among other things.  I held my breath for over a minute as I blindly climbed down five flights of stairs, got back into the basement, and made my way towards the exit.  And that was my goodbye to the Male Wards.

    The only analogy which seems fitting here are the three times I’ve sat by the bedside of a dying loved one as the life slipped out of them.  This was truly a tragic occurrence, because it wouldn’t have happened if the lightning rods hadn’t been taken off the building.  It was over a year before I went back; when I did, I found burnt-up scraps of my grandmother’s blanket.

    To see this larger, or to buy a print, head on over to my new SmugMug gallery.

    (via destroyed-and-abandoned)