Kind of resembles a cross between Uncle Fester and one of the Plan 9 ghouls.
That's mwa shadow snapiiiiing a photo! (To do a play on an Andy Gibb song from the '70s! You can call this a shadow selfie, I guess.)
Three of the Sac City Rollers with yours truly (and another undead dude in the background who just happened to decide to jump into the photo). I'm holding up the Rollers' promo sign, though it didn't come out too clearly in the photo.
The works of a carnival.
Yours truly made sure he got a head shot of this, uh, head shot!
Michael Jackson's back! (From the grave, of course.) No, really: God, rest his soul.
This soothsayer was nice enough to give me a free reading, though it didn't turn out to be true: I didn't attend the zombie walk or screening that night like she said I would. Well, nobody's perfect. But the fortune cookie strip she gave me held true: "All facts are true." But it came without the cookie; a Tootsie Roll lolly pop came with it instead! I can go for that. (No, the strip was not at the centre of the Tootsie Pop.)
And here's the fortune teller going into her mystical trance. (Okay, so it's just the blazing sun light radiating on her devilish horns.)
And a mad scientist picking up after those sloppy zombies. (Didn't their parents teach them any table manners and not to litter?)
Until next time . . .