Tag Archives: haha

Artist Tip #4 – How to make aunt Wilma happy now that you’ve made her mad

Artists Tip #4 – How to make aunt Wilma happy now that you’ve made her mad

Now that Aunt Wilma is flaming angry because you caricatured her face and ripped out one of her eyeballs paste a pretty paper red rose in place of the missing wrinkled third eyeball that you previously created from one unsightly pen line. Explain to her that she is beautiful and that you love her. Do NOT apologize. Give this collage to her as a gift this Christmas.

Next Weeks Tip – How to package Aunt Wilma’s Christmas Gift

Last Weeks Tip

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Artists Tip #3 – How to hide that unsightly pen line

Artists Tip #3 – How to hide that unsightly pen line

When you’ve drawn a line and it’s bad because you smudged it, drew the line too long, too short, gave aunt Wilma an extra eyeball or twitched from being startled from your rhythm by said aunt Wilma simply give her another eyeball. In other words draw another line or two. Give Aunt Wilma’s third or fourth eye wrinkles if need be. In as worst case scenario tear the eyeball (line) out and paste something in it’s place. Instant multi-media collage.

Next Weeks Tip – How to make aunt Wilma happy now that you’ve made her mad

Last Weeks Tip

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Jesus knows…

Jesus knows

…how to get the demons out.

How to get the Demons Out

There is a tropical Storm Named Noel traversing the Maritimes right now. I hijacked a camera and began clicking a few images of myself and seeing as I have not published ANY NEW photos to this blog of myself (in a year perhaps) I thought I would. The two above stood out from the rest. If you were looking for a nice smile the one below is best. :)

Smile you are standing in front of the bathroom mirror

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How to Have an Eargasm

1 + 2 + 3 = 6ex

How to have an EARGASM

The above instructional How to Have an Eargasm illustration inspired this post:
He popped his cherry.

*Please proceed with caution as I will NOT be held accountable for any inner ear damage due to the onslaught of multiple eargasms attained by following the above illustrated directions.

Yes – we all have a bum

We sit on our derrieres
We shit from our derrieres

We, rather than go into a lengthy poo ballad, that only I could find funny because there are things out there people that only, each one, to herself will laugh out loud to. With the way my mind works it focuses from one to another thing as though it were outstretched spaghetti almost reaching the wall it supposedly was to land on as described once in an infomercial to me. These infomercials are just damned informative. It can fold this way. You can wash it this way and then dispose of it. Poof! It all disappears with the click of a button. A switch is more, an apt word, than button. We button clothing. We switch on and off or on again only to get sucked into a strobed illumination of one brothers creation in the family living room.

On. Off. On. Off. On. Off. On.

My brother always had a way of bugging me. I call it bugging because that may have been the word I most said next to Stephen or Mom or Dad. Then our dualling would begin. We would go underground not involving the parents in our war for supremacy over the house, inclusive but not exclusive to; the control of the TV remote control after supper, ice cream, fort building of all kinds including snow forts or pillow forts and lastly, control over the swings on the swing set nestled in the backyard.

Good times we had playing for hours in the snow piling it high only to dig it’s center out to create a snow fort. There was so much snow. So much.

Eric hurt his back at work yesterday. He’s home from work for a few days in the least. “A gable landed on me” he said. Took him to the doctor yesterday afternoon and his back is bruised with some muscle strain, slightly pink-purple with shades of blue appearing momentarily and this reads as though I’ve written a weather forecast about my boyfriend.

Moods are high with seldom whimpers while gusts of laughter roar up as he enjoys a showering of TV programming.

It’s my birthday tomorrow. I’ll be 33.

Kick kick kick! soooo back to bums. I have been linked to from a place called Smart Ass Farm. A PaperBullet on flickr has added me to her contacts. She contributes on Mondays to FecalFace. Once I thought a flip meant fart in the comments, however discovered that a flip is a finger, the central one, and had nothing to do with farting after all.

Weeee fart from our derrieres.
We even report about our derrieres.. goings ons
. 😉

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