Eye Candy Friday: Tulipville

I haven't had the best luck with tulips. The first year, I get beautiful flowers corresponding to the number of bulbs I planted; the second year, leaves, with maybe one flower; the third year, wait, didn't I plant tulips here? From what I understand, one must feed tulips at exactly the right moment, dig them up when they're done blooming, store the bulbs at precisely the right refrigerated temperature until the autumn, plant them and feed them again, and hope the deer don't get them and the weather is up to their specifications. For my part, I have better things to do than cater to the Lindsay Lohans of the bulb world, but the landscapers employed by the office park where I work have it down to a science, except that I think they just throw the bulbs away and plant new ones in the fall. In any event, I have to admit that the results are spectacular. They have rose-pink tulips...


yellow striped tulips...


mutant tulips...


a veritable panoply of red tulips...


including some for the delectation of Gymnast Dude.


We are not sure how Gymnast Dude got into a suburban office park inhabited by outposts of various financial-services firms. At least he has the tulips to keep him company. (In case you are wondering, no, he is not wearing anything, and yes, he is anatomically correct, in a sketchy sort of way. He also suffers from macrocephaly, but it doesn't seem to bother him.)