I was crossing the street downtown a few days back, and I noticed three people clustered around each other on the sidewalk, then noticed that a camera lens was pointed in my direction (it was crowded, so not sure if it was directly at me), then noticed the camera lens was protruding from a garbage bag, which was wrapped entirely around what was presumably a person. There were gym shoes emerging from the bottom.

I was annoyed at having my photo taken, but the thought of starting an argument with three likely-pretentious art students (the arts college is next to my office) was not worth the energy.

I almost made a "Things I did not expect to be coming out of other things" post here about it. Partly because directly before that, I almost got creamed by a bike messenger who was neither in a lane nor in the sidewalk, but instead running a red light by biking fast on the bus-stop median between the two right lanes, a median that had large vans parked on either side of it, completely obscuring the cyclist's view of pedestrians and vice versa.

Things should only come out of, or stand next to, things that one is expecting them to come out of, or stand next to.

Things should only come out of, or stand next to, things that one is expecting them to come out of, or stand next to.

When MeChazens rule the world...

A dramatization.

thanks -t... train trax are missing though.

dude turn off the thunderstorms already, eh?

It's sunny here...

Apparently somebody jumped off a building two blocks from where I work today.

There's weed-eating goats for rent in a lot of places. Mystery solved?

Rent-a-ruminant!!

I'm in the wrong line of work. I need to be renting out goats.

I'm having goat for dinner.



Not really.

I've had goat at Jamaican restaurants and Cuban ones, too. It's tasty.

non sequitor

eth that was bloody awesome. I'll take one of each, plz!

AV, you're right. I had forgotten that Parks & Open Space has been running rent-a-goat weed controls for several years now. they're usually penned in with porta-pens, this fellow must have escaped. My dad's goats were notorious climbers and escape artistes, so I assume that's a species trait.

Humane Society were jonny-on-the-spot and sent some volunteers over with catch equipment to snag him - they said it shouldn't be too hard to locate his owner.

mainly I was concerned because those trax are super busy and hornyboy there would have become a grease spot whenever the next freight came thru.

Super Dickman's Negro Kisses?
i know i want to try them.

A guy on Miami Ink's getting a tattoo of his mother's name: ethylene. (I shit you not.)

(except he spelled it etheleen)

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Sczhetchy? Shupah. Hull-llo.Fucking zee, Dickmann.
Dickmann, Dickmann. Dickmann.
*mouthful* Dickmann!
Dickmann, Dickmann.
*licks finger*Wat is ie lekker, man?

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Well, I'm scarred for life. Seriously, I can't stop watching this.

I'm totally using this for rickrolling purposes from now on. Not that I spend a lot of time rickrolling people, but still, should the occasion arise... I guess it's gone from duckrolling to rickrolling to Dickrolling.

This is the one to blame.

And now a fat monkey.
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Goats are non sequitur.

I'm in the wrong line of work. I need to be renting out goats.

Laughed. out. loud.