As the house lights go down and the holiday weekend’s performance draws to a close, I bid it a fond farewell.
A pinch of pictures, and a smattering of words.
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Monthly Archives: November 2010
One for the weekend.
No one is at work today, therefore no one is reading this.
I got all blown out on the process of giving thanks, and between freezing my ass off on a bike ride and then replacing all of that lost ass with a ridiculously huge dinner with the in-laws, a new post fell by the wayside.
Rest assured, I’Ill have one squared away for Monday, but in the mean time, please know that besides my collection of women’s saddles and not yet sat upon sunglasses, I am thankful for you, the faithful readers, for without you, I would be in a world of hurt. Or I’d be washing dishes.
So with the utmost sincerity, I say thanks again for the continued support.
Some observations on planned obsolescence.
Graphic courtesy of the exceptionally talented Tobias Lunchbreath.
A whole lot of references to man parts.
Between posts expounding on movies I’ve seen, strange new cyclocross practices and incoming barrages of shirts shaped like Ts, the old mail bag has gotten filled up again.
Because I’ve just about exhausted all mail-related imagery, here instead is a graphic of a little girl setting herself on fire.
One for the weekend from Ghostship Matt.
Don’t hate me because I’m bieütiful.
I sometimes live a blessed life.
I mean, it’s not one of Caligulan excess, but it’s pretty good.
Hey.. I’ll tell ya..
I drink too much. The last time I gave a urine sample it had an olive in it.
And on the eighth day, God created neurotic, type A wing nuts.
As we get to the bottom of the barrel, and are scraping it with our gigantic silver spoon, our minds are as pure as our bodies are tainted.
Image and corresponding story via The Bunnyhawk.
One for the weekend from Dahlonega Wheelworks.
“I just grew a beard, punched my mother and spontaneously combusted.”