Rainy, dribbly, Sunday stuff

click to make picture get bigger (yawn).

I'm going to build the first Dog Restaurant!

raining here, a bit dripply, but temperatures are climbing so all's well! Stay tuned for pictures of rabbits, birds, bugs, and flowers gone crazy!

whatever. just another Sunday

click on comic to enlarge dramatically. Somewhat.

"he swallowed my heart"
"mine too"

Sunday Springing into Action

Metamorphose!

I Nose You!

OK, can you please turn off the wind machine now?

Sunday's in the books

Hey, maybe we've got that spring thing going on..! Time to get out the gardening gloves. Time to break out the running shorts. Time to put away heavy socks and boots. Time to chase the rabbits out of the greens (and yellows and blues). Time to believe the Cubs have a chance for maybe 2 or 3 weeks. Time for a nap...

Here's to the talking mouth, obviously, and the nondescript noise of epic elocution. The blathering drivel eclipses all but the most intrinsic of motor acuity. You'll meander through the motions, taking in the ambiance of the permanent collection, swaying to the hamster sounds, mush mouth, incoherent ramblings of an alien voice, somehow understandable while at the same time incoherent. What it sprouts from parched lips glistens with truth, but the logic is irrefutable due to ambiguity. It's tough to argue from the tip of your tongue. An echoing answer mingles around the edges in a more feminine tone, sweet talk mixed with innuendo but it passes over the senses like a red balloon over a field of poppies, imagery unbound, titillating perception, diluting propositions that teeter on the edge of reason. Still the mouth drones on repeating soliloquys and Technicolor how-to lists that confound, yet satisfy. Along the fringe, framing the pretense, she answers glibly with a recipe of reciprocation and then mixes it verbally, continues on task while you wander open to impression, maudlin to modernism, immune to cubism, numb to steam punk. Lips and vocal chords hidden like wires in conduits gather sentiments in monotone drifts high in camouflaged rafters, until the coagulant spiels burst with the vehemence of storm clouds over the plains. You'll get it then, obviously.

photo credit from Here.