I was walking home on a very cloudy night, and the spotlights from the Sagrada Familia were reflected off the clouds above. Overall, the spookiness of it all kinda scared the muffins out of me. Fortunately I had the crap-o-matic pocket camera with me to preserve the moment in digital grain posterity.

Part II of my photojournalism oeuvre that proves that the Sagrada Familia is HAUNTED.

Just look — why are the lights in the right-hand towers on?!! Don’t tell me they’ve found some way to lift money off of tourists at night as well, because everyone knows that the Sagrada Familia is a church, not a business venture.

Micha, apart from being a good-looking dude and a fun model to work with, is also one of the most laid back people I know. So it came as a total surprise one day when he got so angry that he slammed his fist into the wall. Unfortunately he chose a reinforced section of the wall that didn’t give way, and he broke some bones in his hand.

Here he is in a black-and-white studio photography shot in Barcelona, shortly before he went back to his native Amsterdam to work in that television studio that brought the world the reality TV program about people looking for organ donors.

A gentleman cuts a very respectable tune on his clarinet so that people in Plaça Nova can dance sardanes, which 9 of 10 Catalans agree is one of the silliest dances ever. (But hey, we does it and we loves it.)

Found this statue in a park in Girona near the cathedral. You know, the cathedral that’s beside the Turkish bath in the Jewish Quarter.

That’s Joe’s scary old eye in there peeking at something.