Oh dear Lord, there appears to be some sort of white flakey substance falling from the sky in Oregon and landing on basophobic_angel. Is it the result of an airborne toxic event of some description? Let’s not take any chances. If anyone needs me, I’ll be in a motel room, under the highway, eating handfuls of Dylar like it is sweet, delicious candy.
(Piercings by Jason Odd at Modern Epic in Hoodriver, Oregon.)