Missed a couple of great photos on the weekend. One was a local renovator’s van with the logo emblazoned on the side: “Let’s get plastered!”
The other was a ute with an antique electric chair strapped to the back. (This was just after Halloween). My friend asks: “Why would anyone buy that?” Not wanting to miss an opportunity, I reply “For the shock value!”
Groans ensued.
Ah, cholesterol my love…
Be still my beating heart!
(Aorta know better, but I’m so vein. I may not know arteries, but I know what I like!)
I don’t know what’s in this box, but by the description I’m guessing that it is a device that can staple desks – and does comedy shows – and Burlesque.
-Update- I’m no longer allowed to order stationary.
(I can only buy stuff when I’m moving.)
(…)
(FYI: “Stationery” – (n.) the place you buy stations. They’re a collaborative franchise created by the cable TV and Rail networks.)
(AFYI: “Staples” – (n.) basic or principle items. For instance, in the phrase – “we need to order more staples because someone keeps stealing my paperclips and I need them to complete the post-modern work of art I’m constructing in my drawer” – the word ‘paperclips’ implies a staple.)
Brad Pitt’s latest film explores the trauma hairy men experience in a world obsessed with personal grooming…
A majestic flock of cranes spotted in the dying light of the evening.
This park has stunning views.
I spend my time searching the world for my doppelgänger. Because I believe that out there, somewhere, is my exact likeness. So one day, when I find him, I can train him to be my stunt double. Imagine the pranks I could pull. Walking with friends, I duck behind a bush only to leap out in front of a car. Wham! Never fear, I am fine. The looks on their faces. Priceless. Ever wanted to be in two places at once? I could do it. There I am, playing video games, but behold, I’m also at work completing all my tasks while juggling razor sharp snake venom machetes. Oh yes, meetings would be a breeze with my doppelgänger on hand to casually leap through a window on command. I wouldn’t even need to line up to get my license photo taken. And then, when the time is right, my doppelgänger stunt double will leap into action, only the car doesn’t stop, or I don’t arrange for the mattress to be placed just so, and my doppelgänger will be no more. I have just faked my own death. Which means that now, I am free. I can assume the identity of my doppelgänger. That guy’s awesome. I don’t want to be me. My life sucks. I spend all my time searching the world for my doppelgänger.
Behold! The transport of the future!
Anything with LEDs is from the future.
Also a comment on the impending energy crisis.
Also, these guys will turn into pixelated mice and a pumpkin after midnight.
(That was a reality sandwich).
C.T. Curio 