My Big Boots

Now that's an impressive Mohawk.

Hold on tight. My long history of scaling fences has taught me you need strong grip and the right footwear.

Well don't you lads look all fancy in your Big Boots and fresh uniforms.

Hear that sounds? Leather fluttering in the breeze, heavy soles on the road, creaking of solid gear? It's a Big Booted man coming for ya. Run.

Relax. It's only the most important Pride Month ever in the last couple decades. Be ready. And don't forget the big ass Big Boots.

Huh. I mean, it's an effective campaign. I'm in.

You there, drone! Get your rubbered rear in gear. Oh, wait, you already are...

Spread 'em out. I don't care if it's not your house, I don't care if it's not your furniture. You got the Big Boots, you make the rules.

Parade's staring soon...better get your ass over there and fast.

Pride month you say? I call it a Month Long Fuck-Fest. But, you know, in Big Boots.

Also, they come in yellow. Also, they come "scented".

Yeah, I know, lotta wader photos today. But I'm looking out the window on this Memorial Day Weekend and it's crap out. Rainclouds, fog, wind chill, the whole bit. So, wader photos. Live with it.

Dark mysterious factory? Abandoned too, you say? Better pull on the tall waders.

Someone's...excited to be wearing those waders.

The stairs are blocked. Good.