Though things got crazy here, no blood was spilled at the Church of Spilled Blood
For our final stop of this journey Big Boy had to serve up his classic Americana Russian style, so it was off to lovely St Petersburg. I don’t know what his fascination is with pictures at cathedrals, maybe it’s his way of blaspheming since he can’t talk and with burger in hand it is like a slap in the face since he refuses to gesticulate. Whatever his reasons, Church of the Spilled Blood (is it just me or does that name bring back awful images of the movie Carrie with blood all pouring down her face?) was the site of this Big Boy postcard shot. Big Boy tells me however, that he likes this church best because it reminds him of his favorite outfit. Thinks he can blend into the side of the building or something. I can see it. It does have that gingerbread house kind of look.
