Saturday, 10 November 2012
Well, I guess that's one way of dusting the stair railing. I hope she didn't hurt herself.
We had all of two submissions this week. I think everyone else was cleaning up after Sandy. Hey, maybe this is Sandy. Now we know why she's so exhausted.
First, moooooog gave us...
When Bill told me he was sending me a 'picture of a girl getting railed', I was totally thinking of something different.
And then Shawn Ohara that Stubborn Fool, who I think knows where I live, provided us with...
And the winner of the 2013 Gatineau Stairing Contest...
Heh, heh, both good captions, gentlemen. I'm prepared to award a tie. You both are winners. Congratulations, you be hangin' with dufus this week.
The house needs some tidying. What say we get together over a can of Pledge this weekend. I'll provide the duster.
Hold the phone!
Oops, like they say on TV, "This just in". Jamie Baker over at Mad Science submitted this late entry...
And this is exactly why dancing Gangham Style in the stairwell is frowned upon.
Wednesday, 7 November 2012
150? Well that's a bit of a milestone isn't it?
Who knew when I started out with PPP we'd hit such an anniversary. And considering I didn't start numbering these things until I was well into them I've posted somewhere between 3 and 4 years of these pics for your enjoyment.
What do you think, should I continue on? Let me know.
I'm a bit anal and 150 seems like a nice rounded figure to go out on.
In the meantime, leave your caption(s) in the comments and slide on back here Saturday to see who made the grade.
This may be the last time.
Monday, 5 November 2012
I don't know who first came up with it but it's a marvellous saying. Sometimes you're the windshield, sometimes you're the bug.
It's like sometimes you win, sometimes you lose...but far more descriptive. I mean have you ever had it happen to you? You're driving along as the sun's just gone down. You turn on your lights in the dusk and the bugs just seem to flock to your windshield, drawn as if by a magnet. Now, of course, you're faced with a choice. Do you just leave them be or do you flip on the windshield wipers and shoot windshield wiper fluid at your windshield. If it's ever happened to you, you know this is a no-win situation. Trying to clean them off usually makes it worse. You better hope you find a gas station...or a guy at the side of the road who wants a dollar...with a squeegee. That's the only way.
And, of course, the bug never wins. It's always the windshield that comes out on top.
When I was a kid, though, riding my bike on paths through nearby fields, the bugs won...in a suicidal fashion. Of course I had no windshield on my bike. And as I pedalled faster and faster I'd open my mouth wide to catch my breath and, alas, that wasn't all I caught. Yep, I swallowed a bug or two in my time. Quite a few, actually. And people wondered why I looked bug-eyed half the time.
Sometimes you're the windshield, sometimes you're the bug has a sense of finality, doesn't it? I mean sometimes you're the screen door, sometimes you're the bug doesn't carry with it the same sense of doom and meeting your maker. And sometimes you're the window, sometime you're the bug doesn't work because there's a 50/50 chance the window'll be open.
It's like Mark Knopfler and Dire Straits once said...
Not only that, he sang it, too:
Sunday, 4 November 2012
Well, today's Blog Blast For Peace Day; a day when bloggers around the world all blog about one thing: P-E-A-C-E. It's a serious subject. But seeing how I manage a humour blog I have a bit of a different take on the subject. This is the post I've been publishing the last several years. I like it so much I thought I'd run it again. Enjoy. And peace.
In the giant land of Gastronomia, government leaders and their bureaucrats were all in a tizzy. The plump Prime Minister of Gastronomia was about to host a conference of the world's key leaders to discuss the fragile state of peace in the world and there wasn't a moment to lose to ensure, down to the minutest detail, all plans could be accomplished in time for the upcoming meeting of the Gastronomic 8.
The finest of hotel suites would have to be booked, the fanciest limousines would have to be leased, a conference centre would need to be found and a top-notch security detail would have to be employed.
But those things paled in comparison to the responsibility handed to Chance Essare, the Prime Minister's chef. Even though he wore a silly grin, Chance had been delegated as the point man responsible for the conference's menu. Yes, that's right. In the land of fine food, Chance would have to whip up the perfect meal. Chance knew the culinary challenge that lay before him, and the special kitchen implements required to do so, but he was a professional and it was a whisk he was willing to take.
Chance alone would be responsible for keeping the Gastronomic 8 satiated and satisfied. The slightest mistake could result in gastric acid or indigestion at the conference table manifested by a possible hiccup in the proceedings. Heaven help us all if Chance's repast jeopardized world peace and resulted in resounding burps flying across the table like the reports of AK-47s. Worse yet, if Chance's vital vittles were more difficult to digest than the oratory of the peace discussions, odours of war might arise far worse than any pungent mustard gas from World War I.
But what to prepare, what to prepare? Chance knew he had to come up with a culinary delight that appeased all members. A Cordon Bleu dish might tick off the Italians. Similarly, a pasta delight might blow-off the Brits, although they weren't known for their sense of taste, let alone their sense of style. But that's a story for another day. For days Chance stewed (pun intended) over his dilemma.
After two weeks, his sous-chef, Sue (that's right, a real Sue chef) and other sundry cook-like assistants intervened and arrived at a dish sure to preserve peace around the table and thus ensure peace around the world. Chance was amazed at it's simplicity and knew Sue and her culinary colleagues had saved the day with their immortal words:
"All we are saying, is give pizza, Chance."
There are many other takes on "peace" to be found today @ Blog Blast For Peace. Just scroll down and click the links for "peace" from around the world.
Saturday, 3 November 2012
Oh, man, we had plenty of entries this week. It was a difficult task to choose one out over the others.
I kinda felt like that woman in the picture after all was said and done.
My fantasy football friend Michael Wolfe (who I beat last week) made 8 submissions. Here's a couple:
A "green" way to keep her from chewing the surgical scar was far simpler than anyone initially thought.
"Jules Gabriel Verne! You get your ass back up here and finish this book!"
Thank God this woman doesn't have a garbage disposal.
That Stubborn Fool Shawn Ohara left two captions, one of which was:
Can you hear me now?
But it was Boom Boom Larew who appropriately summed things up around here with her caption of...
Ziva, the morning after the 30 Days of Photographs III challenge.
You had to be in that challenge to fully appreciate that comment. I was and I do.
Way to go Paula, you be hangin' with dufus...again!
People are gonna start to talk.
If you wanna get together I've got a huge basket of laundry for ya. The soap's on me. First, though, we have to get Ziva out of my laundry room.
Thanks to everyone for playing this week. See ya next time.