much is uncertain regarding the status and wherabouts of the infamous victoria tunnels.
many attempts had been made on our parts, and tonight, we thought we had it pegged.

miles went first.

waiting for barnge to make his descent.

it doesn't smell too pretty down here.

this is what lie ahead. tunnel, tunnel, and more tunnel.

these pants are later'd.

the tunnel was infinitely long and tall enough only to allow us to hunch. by the time we reached
the end, we didn't care how, but we needed to stand up. sewage or no sewage.

whilst miles, harvey and i stood shin deep in god knows what, joe decided to tread on. the tunnel went on and on and on
and appeared to have no end. upon further investigation, we discovered that the particular tunnel we were in emptied out
under the johnson st. bridge. these were not the tunnels we needed to be in. miles looks for a way out, so we dont have to venture
back the way we came.

the damn thing is bolted shut.

while still in the tunnel, vagrants were heckling us from above, giving us all a bit of a scare. we made the trek back and thankfuly,
the vagrant had moved on.

our legs are dead.

we lost the battle, but the war forges on.

the ceiling of the tunnel was dirty.

taking a breather at quan valdez.

an id check at 7-11 turns nasty and bare assing ensued.

this is joe's bad tattoo.