flickrblogging

Flickrblogging — 9684

Posted on by Patrick

IMG_9684
Dis­cov­ered in car­olyn­hack’s Flickr photostream. 

Ladies, Gen­tle­men, I present to you the cov­er art for my newest how-to guide, “Mak­ing a Cyborg on $6 a day”. This one is an illus­tra­tion from the “Opti­cal ‘Enhance­ment’ ” sec­tion. You’ll note the quote marks around the word “Enhance­ment”; my lawyers, God bless their black lit­tle souls, sug­gest­ed that, in the inter­est of avoid­ing law­suits, I use lit­tle so-called “irony quotes” around cer­tain terms.

Please note also that there is a sub­stan­tial adden­dum to the book, and that the major update to the “Opti­cal ‘Enhance­ment’ ” sec­tion points out that, due to the $6 nature of the “Infrared” Eye “Aug­men­ta­tion” “Device”, you can’t actu­al­ly set fires with your new-found “heat” vision. Or per­haps that should be “vision”.

* * *

Ran­dom Flick­r­blog­ging Explained
Tech­no­rati: flick­r­blog­ging

Flickrblogging–IMG_3355

Posted on by Patrick

IMG_3355
Dis­cov­ered in Toby Lee’s Flickr photostream. 

Not the best first date ever, thought Mon­i­ca. I don’t think he’s said two words to me all day, he’s pret­ty weak since I’m doing all the pulling here, and his cologne smells an awful lot like varnish.

Still, he does dress like a pirate…

Flick­r­blog­ging on Technorati
Flick­r­blog­ging explained–join the fun!

Flickrblogging — “The Disappointment” (IMG_3280)

Posted on by Patrick

IMG_3280
Dis­cov­ered in worstelen.org’s Flickr photostream. 

Lat­er, in the bar

“Dude, why did you inter­view him?”

“C’mon, John­ny, don’t you know who that was? Did­n’t you rec­og­nize him?”

“No.”

“John­ny, that was the Green Gob­lin! What a scoop!”

“Dave…”

“What?”

“Dave, that was­n’t the Green Gob­lin. That was some guy in a green mask.”

“…Seri­ous­ly?”

“Yeah. Seri­ous­ly.”

“Aw crap, man, that’s like eighty bucks worth of tape I used. That’s gonna come out of my salary.” [Drinks a shot of whiskey] “Heh, you’re just yankin’ my chain, sure. That was the Green Gob­lin. I’ll be fine.”

“No, Dave, that was some guy in a mask. Dude, you’re a lit­tle too cred­u­lous, you have to work on that.”

“What­ev­er. I sup­pose you’re gonna tell me that ain’t Wolver­ine that was tend­ing bar, too, right?”

“Dave, that’s just a guy who needs to trim his fingernails.”

Tech­no­rati: Flickrblogging

The Hotel

Posted on by Patrick

IMG_4416
Dis­cov­ered in colinedwards99’s Flickr photostream. 

…and to cap off your evening, what could be bet­ter than a roman­tic night at The Hexa­gon, the only four-star hotel in the West­ern Wastes? The hotel is pat­terned after the dis­tinc­tive shape of a snowflake, and fenced with a Wampa-proof perime­ter defence sys­tem, and our ever-chang­ing enter­tain­ment and din­ing menus will offer you a dis­tinc­tive stay every time.

Once again, let me thank you for con­sid­er­ing Hoth as your vaca­tion destination.

Tech­no­rati: flick­r­blog­ging

Flickrblogging — 2816

Posted on by Patrick

IMG_2816
Dis­cov­ered in derek73’s Flickr photostream. 

“All right, I think we’ve decid­ed. I’ll have a small Hawai­ian piz­za, Lisa’ll go with the chick­en fin­gers and a Cae­sar, and Travis will have your pep­per­corn burg­er. Yeah, fries are fine. What? Gravy? No, that’s all right, no gravy. Oh, and no mat­ter how much he begs, don’t bring Travis any more cof­fee. Ever.”

* * *

Ran­dom Flick­r­blog­ging Explained
Tech­no­rati: flick­r­blog­ging

Flickrblogging — IMG_8883

Posted on by Patrick

IMG_8883
Dis­cov­ered in bri­antang’s Flickr photostream. 

After count­less day-care rum­bles, caus­ing untold num­bers of boo-boos that required the kiss-and-make-it-bet­ter skills of hun­dreds, maybe thou­sands of trained triage nurs­es, the war was over. The Tele­tub­bies gang and the Snoopy gang signed the Play­ground Accords at exact­ly 1800 hours on July 4th, 2006, and peace final­ly reigned through­out the toddlersphere.

Tech­no­rati:

Flicrkblogging — Practice Run

Posted on by Patrick

IMG_4580.JPG
Dis­cov­ered in Charkrem’s Flickr photostream. 

The place was emp­ty. Four AM on a Tues­day, even the clean­ing staff was MIA, prob­a­bly drink­ing cof­fee down by the book­store or something.

Zelda–her real name was Jen­nifer, but for Hal­lowe’en, she went by Zelda–tested the lines, swung them one at a time to make sure none of them were tan­gled, tugged them to test their strength. Satisi­fied, she strad­dled the broom­stick, straight­ened her cape and point­ed black hat with one hand, and took a run­ning start.

Leap­ing over the glass wall, she soared above the mal­l’s courtyard.

Yeah, she thought, swing­ing in a wide lazy cir­cle, the lines taut and invis­i­ble, this’ll make the kids sit up and take notice tomorrow.

It was almost Hallowe’en.