What's the deal with these telephone poles that are three feet tall? At that point you might as well just string the wires through the bushes and save everyone a lot of hassle.
Gotta admire the honesty of the illustrations for climbing into the top bunk. No sense in trying to hide the fact that it's pretty much your butt flailing in space until you summon the arm strangth to haul yourself up in there like Indiana Jones recovering from a fall over the edge of a cliff.
When's the last time you saw a railroad car with a fresh coat of paint? Do they have a chain of guys on the assembly line whose job it is to weatherbeat the hell out of these things before they leave the factory? "Sorry Maury, she's gonna need one more coat of rust yellow before we can ship her."
11:30 a.m. Ooh, free-range cattle! Ugh, carrion.
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