The aft lifeboat survived auction, although now all it holds is an emergency ladder to help men who’ve fallen overboard get on deck.
One thing I like about the oppressive globalist-wrought future is the idea of numerically subdividing spaces; my geek side sort of wants to live in a flat that can be sorted by as Dewey Decimal-like code.
An 80s-era company crate, as found in a forgotten store room.
Imagine the voice of an entitled White suburban mother. She’s now talking about oral hygiene in the “urban” (Black) schools.
This is a typical view of the factory; most of it was long hallways flanked by piles of equipment and access points to maintain them.
A classic Eveready, borrowed from Herb’s office.
Seven TV sets and not one shows my reflection. I’d also like to point out not two of these are the same.
The main floor of the hospital was crammed with furniture.