Front
Back (apologies for my handwriting!)
I got this postcard in … well, New Orleans, Louisiana.
The text of the postcard is:
Dear Ellen,
It’s Thanksgiving-time, which I am excited about.
You know, America has always had a certain bravado which is pretty cool, and Thanksgiving shows more of it.
So shove off obesity as a national epidemic, and hand me more pie!
Wearing Sweatpants,
GetBradStanleyPublished.com
Where’s My Doe-Eyed Look and Legs That Go for Days?
I’m not about to write a dissertation
About getting out of a citation
With some harmless, mindless (‘I wasn’t flirting! … Oh! I guess I was flirting …’) flirtation
But my inability to do this does cause me some irritation
When those lights flash behind me my first thought is: aggravation
Followed by: frustration
With, I’ll admit, some four-letter words uttered with some not so small amount of exaggeration
While you of the fairer sex probably practice batting your eyes in the same situation
And then the cop sits in his car for what seems a sudden-onset two-week vacation
Taking my annoyance/worry/fear past their limitation
Seriously – did he pull me over then notice a tear in his seams so he then quickly pulled out his ever-handy pocket-sewing kit for some minor alteration
Others, I won’t point fingers, sit confident, waiting to exercise their skilled craft of subtle insinuation
Next the cop walks SLOWLY toward my car – viewing it and me under close inspection
I sit thinking of laws I’ve broken, things I’ve done wrong, such guilty introspection
‘Don’t say anything wrong,’ I think, ‘Don’t do anything wrong. Don’t give him any legal ammunition.’
The pretty faces yawn – to them this is bush-league, this is exhibition
The officer approaches and stares DOWN at me, “license and registration”
Straight to it, eh cop? No anticipation?
I’d make a joke about ‘traffic stop foreplay’ but I don’t have that kind of gumption
When you’ve got that doe-eyed look and legs that go for days who need’s a woman’s intuition?
The officer asks some questions without the slightest hint of animation
I stutter and stumble with some mental constipation
My hopes of a warning go up in a bug conflagration
And you, you, you send the hint of a hint of a good vibration
Without any hesitation
(And it probably goes without saying, also without any affection)
Here comes my ticket and from me a silent nod without any argumentation
Meanwhile you allow yourself some self-congratulation
Ninety-nine percent of the time your doe-eyed look and legs that go for days are cause for adulation
But for that other time I insist on some new legislation
It’s not sublimation it’s shameless self-exploitation
And besides, it’s unfair and I don’t like it and you’re pretty and what are you up to later tonight because maybe we can discuss this over some candle-lit situation
The following photos were taken by me around age 5. Looking at these pictures it makes sense that I spend the majority of my day working with a computer, and not with people.
I hope you enjoy them.
AMAZING. I miss Storm Shadow, Snake Eyes … and the guy in blue.
The cat was rightfully impressed with the epic battle.
Perhaps a police lineup?
Some sort of stuffed animal family reunion.
The Cover of the Photo Album (the red stain is … I don’t know what?)
DumbFunnery 