In suburbia, everyone can hear you smile.
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My Str-r-r-etch Retrostation.
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Using highly experimental technology, minifigs teleport from one floor to the next.
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Let’s see here...handcuffs, doughnut crumbs, crossworld puzzle, ... there’s my parking change.
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Tennis pro-wanna-bes aren’t tempted by pizza.
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Unaware of the newly installed time-activated pulpit trapdoor, pastor Bob is awaiting his longest sermon to-date.
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Hustle
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and
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bustle.
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Strike up the band.
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Can you name the instruments? No seriously, I do want to know what the yellow brass is called.
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Alright, who’s watching the pizza oven?
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Last year’s uniforms provided by an unnamed corporate sponsor by friendly barter. (they even came all the way from California)
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My baby takes the morning train.
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Our homes are models of efficiency. Judging from the minifig to house ratio, they sleep around 100 figs each.
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From the start it was definitely going to be a bad toupee day. Also note the lava lamp that one of my friends from church designed - thanks, Justin)
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“Sorry about your toe.” “Not a problem. I also have one on the other foot.”
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The truck for Bill’s LEGO® collection finally arrived.
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Wa wah wa wah wah
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Not to worry. This year’s model is deconstruct proof. You might remember the ads where the cow tried to disassemble the car. Not mine, bovine.
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