I drive through this little, predominantly Spanish-speaking area often, and today I finally decided to stop. There's just something about the name, The Pork Chop City, and all its dreadful meatness, that sticks in my head, that seems to demand capturing. I pulled out my phone, and...
The, uh, Beef Meat House. I'm trying to think of something to say. Nope, the sign got the last word.
And the Commercial Beef Utilization Guide. Makes you feel kinda warm inside, doesn't it?
This poor fellow looks awfully worried.
I think this place may call for investigation. I wonder if their beans are made with lard.
When I stop just to look, I see beauty in the everyday, in average and plain things.