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Feast your eyes on Fort Armistead (or what was once Fort Armistead) in Baltimore, MD. This is just about the coolest place you could ever hope to stumble upon. It was a munitions battery from the 1890s until the 1920s when all the cannons were removed and it was basically left to wither and die.

Between nature's reclamation and the absurd amount of graffiti covering the place, it now looks like some sort of post-apocalyptic skateboard park. And I'm pretty sure I heard the faint chanting of "brains... brains..." I think maybe the zombies just lurk in the shadows until dusk.


roxy burglar
Roxy Bisquaint

Roxy Bisquaint...

Is self-indulgent. Over thinks everything. Tweets too much. Looks really good in these jeans. Wants to eat butterscotch. Makes herself laugh. Obsesses about aging. Does some crunches. Lives with two ghosts. Procrastinates daily. Measures once, cuts twice. Hates Foo Fighters. Drinks lots of coffee (keep it coming). Puts spiders outside. Brings balance to the force. Draws a perfect curve. Enjoys dark chocolate. Bangs on the drums. Always gets in the slow line. Orders from a menu. Hopes to be reincarnated. Speaks fluent Sarah Connor. Cooks tasty crack theory. Loves a good storm. Dances like a dork. Picks some locks. Tips well. Refuses to share the popcorn. Dreams about the future. Ignores the clock. Sings off key. Has a superpower. Shoots the paper bad guys. Needs some eyeliner. Goes to bed at dawn. Can't resist good smut. Quotes movie lines. Eats whipped yogurt. Lets the story tell itself. Maintains a rich fantasy life. Knows all the mysteries of the gods and of the universe.

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