Looks like eye shoes are more popular than mouth shoes… ?
The eyes have it.
I don’t know what they see in these myself.
Other body parts were sorely missing from this collection. They have no nose. …how do they smell? Heh heh. Like shoes. o_0
That’s pretty bad. Someone put their foot in their mouth.
Sorry that’s so corny. May need to file that away.
Too pedestrian?
I thought I’d have a go at some sketchy double puns
And of course, my old favourite –
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.)
Apparently we can clone people now. It’s crazy. I’m sure many have opinions on this, but I take it quite personally. When I first found out I was beside myself.
And I’m not sure if we will ever see I to I.
But clones are people two. (Okay, I stole that last one)
Don’t you hate it when you see something go by, perhaps through the window of a tram, and think “that would make a great picture with a caption to put on my website thing” – but too late. The thing has long since rattled away while I, er, you fumble with your phone. It’s out of memory again and needs to be reset. Oh for those future days when we all have digital cameras embedded in our foreheads and privacy and memory and imagination are but faded memories, slowly yellowing in the corner like an abandoned Polaroid from 1984.
So it is with a heavy heart that I ask you now to forget that shared golden dystopian destiny and dwell with me a moment in the mere present and -:imagine:-. (Or at least until I can be bothered walking back down the road to take a photo or learn to draw.) Imagine a small cafe, facing the street with cars and trams bustling by. In the window, bright red signage: “Milkshakes! Milkshakes! Milkshakes!” Next to it, also stuck to the out-facing window, an A4 piece of paper with the words printed in plain black ink: “Help wanted. Enquire within.” Now, if you are not too exhausted, imagine all this captured in a well-framed and focused photograph, badly photo-edited (I don’t own Photoshop) with the following emblazoned across the foot of the picture: “Milkshakes fail to bring boys to yard.”
That almost happened.
But that’s not all. Just hours earlier I was looking out at the cityscape and something caught my eye. An enthusiastic graffiti artist had scaled a building in the CBD and written (no doubt suspended upside down, dramatically, clutching the roof in one hand, white spray can in the other) “HOAX”. Now I must ask you to again imagine this (as my camera focused on the smudges on the glass in front of me, rather than my target) – along with the caption: “Unreal Graffiti”.
Yesterday my camera phone failed me. Today I attempt to repair the damage that was never done by hinting at some imaginings that will never yellow.
They just disappear.
Especially after we all have cameras in our foreheads.
Little miss Muffet
Sat on a tuffet
Eating her curds and whey
Along came a tram
It was late, what a scam
That poor spider was waiting all day
C.T. Curio 