coney island babies

after the aquarium we walked out the boardwalk and ate some fantastically greasy lunch from the one lonely kiosk that was open. it was frigid cold, but the girls wanted to walk the beach.

we had corndogs, fries, and a guiness in a paper cup to cut thru the grease.

everytime we go there in the winter, its the strangest place you can imagine. this is one of those places where the word surreal should still be allowed to describe. the ratio of the insane and the circus performer to the average vistor is way tilted to the former. to make it perfect, the hi-rise housing projects on the opposite side of the abandoned amusement parks create a windbreak like artificial cliff faces and there is a constant haunted, siren-like howl from the gusts. its hard to over-emphasize how strange it is out there. all the ghosts speak russian.