November 29, 2007

Tiger Grasshoper on Cypress Knee

This critter is big enough to gnaw off your thumb and finger without pausing. The Cypress Knee he's perched on is about one foot tall, so you can see the perspective. There seems to be some meat on his bones, I mean, some guts in his exoskeleton.

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What with global warming, December stresses, and all the related gloom & doom from a campaign year, is this another sign of the apocalypse? Imagine the sky filled with these things, then make sure to eat your veggies today, while you still can...
Hear that buzzing sound? They’re coming your way!

PS: I made up the name “tiger grasshopper” just because it’s descriptive.

November 23, 2007

there ain't no flies on me

This is one of the few turkeys of 2007 that survived to see the sunrise of Friday November 23rd (the day after Thanksgiving).
His name is Jake, as in Jake Turkey. More original than naming him Tom.
Turkey Jake has his namesake from an old man with a saggy neck waddle. Human Jake didn’t seem to mind the saggy comparison, although I wonder if he is crying inside or if to him it's all water off a ducks back or maybe saggy human Jake no longer feels emotions…

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Old gray turkey Jake is old, even by fowl standards. He’s older than most of the human offspring playing in the yard and has outlived all of his fowl contemporaries. Consequently, Jake has been granted a permanent pardon from ever being considered as sustenance. Smart decision for all, especially since this old bird must be one tough old bird to have escaped the dinner preparation neck-ax, survived nightly raccoon raids, and avoided road and farm vehicles up to November 2007.

As a tangible example of an homage to elders, we sent Jake off to the farm. Meaning the real farm, not the “farm” as in that euphemism for the chopping block and then the carving plate.

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Old Jake has not yet “bought the farm” here.
Look closely and there’s a dog in the bottom right of the photo. She's a nice Boykin Spaniel, not likely to agitate the old bird.

Jake is more likely to see tomorrow than many of us, especially if we don’t learn to mend our wicked, wicked ways and remember to say "Yessum" to the ladies, and "Yessur" to the men.
Which leads us to:
“Most all the time, the whole year round,
there ain't no flies on me,
But jest'fore Christmas I'm as good as I kin be! “

Click below for wise insight on
just how to behave “Jest 'fore Christmas”

Continue reading "there ain't no flies on me" »

November 19, 2007

a bonton does Manhattan

This just in from our studiobonton New York City field correspondent:

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It is a good time of year to be in the city. Those hot summer smells are long gone, the Hamptons aren’t beckoning (not in the same way as in June) so now we can focus on shopping(!) and being right here at Rockefeller Center and buying(!) stuff. Vintage overcoats, Canal Street stuff, holograms on things, uber-artsy-expressive haircuts in The Village, dinner reservations at 11pm, cab rides, tickets to The Met, and front row seats at Madison Square Garden. This year has certain ticket limitations: not only is Broadway on strike but there are no late night TV shows to attend due to the writers strike. But still, plenty to do if you are with the right person.

“Winter is here, best time of year,
come on along, sing the skating song”
- was that song in your 3rd grade music book?

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Skate skate skate,
Skate skate skate,
Skate your booty, skate your booty, booty!
(think KC & the Sunshine Band).

November 6, 2007

the buzzards are circling

Just in time for Xmas (that's Christmas for Goths):

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Well, they're clear about their inventory.
Somehow makes me want to check my closets for anything missing.
(been feelin' pretty vacant...)

my MRI is back from the lab

The results are in and we’re waiting for the interpretation.
Is this going to be OK? What about that pattern? Any of you ever heard a physician say, “We don’t like the looks of this shadow on your x-ray?”
Maybe this indicates the intricate brain waves of a highly evolved humanoid (hopefully)? Is the life that some of us lead eternally facing a mental brick wall? It's a nice and pretty dead-end, but where are the sunny broad horizons imagined way back when we were all going to “grow up to be President someday”.

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Back in reality-land, this wall was built in the 1700’s and shows off the skill of the brick mason. Consider the photo a texture study.
We’ll not subject you to the Artist’s Statement.

Appropriately enough, this image is from Retreat Plantation.
Retreat! The intended meaning is “a calm get-away”. At the moment it means “get the heck out-a-here, your MRI is inconclusive of any inspired or viable brain wave pattern."
It’s football season, drop back and punt.
Just slip out the back, Jack
Make a new plan, Stan
You don’t need to be coy, Roy
Just get yourself free
Hop on the bus, Gus
You don’t need to discuss much
Just drop off the key, Leigh
And get yourself free
- Paul Simon, Fifty ways to leave your lover