I mean yes, all these art e-creations are slightly bizarre.
But some me make me laugh more than others.
Others?
Make me snort out loud.
Thank you clever art lovers….
For giving me something to chuckle about during this stressful time.
Tag Archives: humor
It ain’t what it used to be.
Going out for a seafood dinner certainly has changed in recent months.
Gone are the charming restaurants with lovely oceanfront views. Gone are the meticulously crafted cocktails and professional wait staff.
These days?
It’s a long line of cars idling at the curb waiting to cue up to a traveling roach coach.
While this would normally not be the least bit appealing, I was quite sick of cooking last week and one of the husband’s friends swore this seafood was good, plentiful and reasonably priced.
From the size of the crowds you’d think the circus had come to town.
People be desperate.
We waited 20 minutes in the car parade, 10 minutes for a girl to take our order, and another 20 minutes for the food.
50 minutes without a martini?
Is not my idea of dinner out.
To say I should have known it would be bad is trite…. but oh, so true.
For slightly over $30?
I received 2 absolutely disgusting and totally inedible crab cakes…. while the husband frantically tried to find a section of fish in the foot thick batter.
Disappointing doesn’t begin to describe that rancid grease drenched mess.
Bad seafood is always bad.
But this?
New is not always improved.
You never know what the grocery store will be out of these days.
I haven’t seen flour for weeks, unless it’s made from something ghastly. At this point, dehydrated tofu/arugula flour wouldn’t surprise me.
Along with the lack of everyday items comes the strange substitutions.
Some, I can live with.
Peach and almond dish soap? Sure.
Legume pastas? Not so much.
Colorful? Yes.
Tasty? I doubt it.
Yes, these horrors are still on the shelf.
Though that shouldn’t come as a shock to anyone.
I couldn’t find my regular orange juice last trip and had to home with this.
And all I can say is the fruit might have ripened on the tree…. but the flavor leeched out on the way to the bottle. A less fruity fruit juice you’re not apt to find.
Then there was this, that the husband simply had to buy when the peanut butter shelf was empty.
Roasted watermelon seed butter.
WTF?
” ‘In with the new’ kinda day” ?
This abomination looks like beige spackling paste and smells half as appetizing. Needless to say the other half had one sandwich and called it good.
Did I mention it was $17 a jar?
A new scent of soap made its way to the shelves and being a mango lover, I had high hopes.
Sadly there was a lot more butter than mango in this product and unless you have a sudden urge to smell like a hot bucket of movie theater popcorn? I’d steer clear.
And finally, there were Pete and Gerry’s eggs.
What happened to Ben….
Good God, is my Cherry Garcia in peril?
Gerry… go back to Ben.
Substitutions are not always acceptable.
Imitation is the sincerest form of flattery.
Even if it doesn’t quite live up to the original.
You knew there would be more…. right?
Nice unabrow.
Nice…. dragon?
Not many men can carry off the parasol look. Though the Frito bag gloves do help.
Kudos sir.
And if you think it’s all about classic art….
Well, dogs playing poker is someone’s idea of a classic I’m sure.
I may not be able to find flour….
But I really need something blooming in my life right now so I masked up and headed to a local nursery down the road for the other kind of flower.
No make up, no manicure and wearing a sweatshirt.
The Corona lock down has definitely put a nail in the coffin of my beauty regime.
Please note the mask is color coordinated though.
I’m not a heathen FFS.
Came home with a car load full of pansies, begonias, geraniums, mallow and a container of pretty I don’t know what.
This will be a good start… but no where near enough to fill my beds.
Damn. We always miss the good stuff…
Since the virus apocalypse has killed our beloved Red Sox season this year, it’s been a struggle to find alternative viewing when we’re in the mood for something competitive.
So imagine my dismay when I realized we’d missed an entire day of stellar sporting events….
Damn it!
You know that was a nail biting, edge of your seat good time.
And if it wasn’t bad enough we missed the spitters?
Yes.
We missed that too.
In fact, we missed an all star line up of great competitions.
Cheese rolling and stone skipping?
Be still my heart.
Stupid robots and slippery stairs?
These are probably future Olympic events!
And we missed them.
Pandemic humor.
Because we all still need a laugh.
Now that’s just rude.
This looks like a great idea since I always whup the husband at gin rummy and he won’t play with me anymore.
*Note to self – borrow neighbor’s rooster*
I really do miss traveling.
Even if it’s just to the next town.
Indeed.
Yeah.
Gwyneth (correct spelling) can bite me.
( Did I already post this one? Maybe… but the sentiment holds true. )
Cats.
They think they know everything. It happens to be tequila.
Stuff it Mittens.
Jesus… neither do I!
We’re doomed.
In case you’ve never seen it close up….
Don’t get excited, I’m talking about deer antlers.
And as I was filtering through my hundreds of shots of our buck the other day….
I thought some of you city people might get a kick out of this.
After the fall rut….. (read: deer orgy, where size does matter) ….. the buck will drop his then useless horns.
It’s a slow process that sometimes takes all winter. The blood supply is cut off and they slowly loosen. You often see bucks with one side hanging crookedly… and they’ll rub against trees, fence posts, picnic tables or whatever is around to knock them off.
When this happens, it does look a little bizarre.
And painful, though they assure me it’s not.
But how do the proverbial ‘they’ know?
I doubt anything has fallen off of them lately.
It certainly doesn’t look like fun to me.
Ars Gratia Artis.
Art for Art’s Sake.
Noble words, but do they apply to off color road graffiti?
Let’s ask the woman in my town who discovered a piece of art and posted it on Facebook….
Well, yes.
That is a rather large skin flute, dipstick, tallywacker, schlong, piece of art.
And apologies for the photo censorship, it wasn’t me.
I’d never deface someone’s Johnson, knob, love muscle, trouser monkey, creative expression that way.
I did however get a kick out of the comments on this post.
Of course.
That’s what I thought when I first saw it as well.
I’d always been told size doesn’t matter.
Clearly, that was wrong.
Butterfly?
That’s sweet, if mildly disturbing.
And yes, considering the size and scope of it?
That’s probably sound advice.
Here we go again.
We love our large back yard.
Specifically because there’s nothing to see except grass and the occasional 4 legged visitor.
It’s quiet, peaceful and far away from other houses.
Remember a while back when I complained about the neighbor behind us who parked his motor home right next to our property line instead of on any of his other 10 acres?
Well, the other day as I was reading on the couch, I heard banging.
Do you see it?
How about now?
The neighbor’s house isn’t visible from our place, and they have a good 12 acres worth of property, if not more. Some is cleared, some wooded… and it goes right down to the water.
So what did they do?
They started construction of a tree house…… right next to our property line.
Grass? Ours. Brush? Theirs.
Maybe 6 feet between the end of our grass and their tree house frame.
12 acres plus… more than 522,720 square feet! But they had to pick the only spot on our common border that’s open to viewing from our side.
I’d like to bitch… but we love these neighbors, and have always had a good relationship. The owner lost her husband to Parkinsons a few years ago and it broke all our hearts. The home is large and was too much for her to handle alone so her daughter and family moved in to help. Two granddaughters and two step grandsons are now also in residence, hence the tree house.
Which technically it isn’t, since it’s merely tree adjacent.
I don’t mean to sound anti children, but damn. We’re on the other side of the life spectrum and relish our peace and quiet.
But there it is, looming over our backyard.
Did I mention it’s strategically placed on the only break of the tree line?
12 plus acres…. and they had to put it there!
River's world..... 