Gettin’ down wif Gangsta Grim

I totally forgot to write about this, but a few weekends ago, a group of friends and I went all the way out to the boondockin’ corner of Oregon City for a fireside lodge-ish breakfast.

On our leisurely way back, we decided (well, it was more along the lines of me deciding) to stop at a corner farmer’s-market-year-’round-store thing called Alice’s Country Market. I used to stop here once in a while when I was a kid, on the way to Roslyn Lake or elsewhere, and it was always fun getting fresh fruit and walking around the courtyard.

Well, in honor of the upcoming spooky holiday, they had a plethora of pumpkins and other gourds, in addition to a miniature maze made of hay. My friends and I quickly walked through it, but at the very end, we found quite a scary grim reaper.

We couldn’t tell if he was a Blood or a Crip, but we did know definitively that he was from the West Side.

Me, Andrew, and Gangsta Grim
Me, Andrew, and Gangsta Grim



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Exuberant photographer, artist, writer, designer, wannabe chef, and Crossfitter.

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