A photoshopped image of a game show for cats called "Tap...Tap...Tap!" showing an orange contestant knocking Tiffany vases off of a padded, lime-green vinyl lectern during the "Vase Round."
I'm thinking game show original.
In an alternate timeline where I've fulfilled my dream of opening a cozy, mystery bookshop (a cozy-mystery bookshop?), I have visiting authors "sign" their books with an inked fingerprint. Just putting this idea out there.
Sensational!
JE and DJT with visible auras, that resemble red flags
ngl, sounds like the Depak Aura app could've come in handy
Scalzi's AI approximation appearing not-out-of-place as the third brother of the peeping-Tom duo played by William Sanderson and Tracey Walter in a publicity still from the 1981 movie, Raggedy Man.
hmm
As both "short" and "shorts" also derive from *skurtijΗ, the relatively modern (~1950s) American English "skort" ("skirt" + "shorts") is effectively a portmanteau of the same word. π€―π
A Risk! board game, annotated with Sharpie
This map is also mercator-y, and I think it could also explain someone's mindset.
Devastating. Exquisite.
There's an odd pushback by some who seem to argue that an audiobook, interpreted through a narrator's performance, is a lesser or bastardized version of the "pure" written text hitting a reader's eyeballs. That it has to an extent been predigested, and that something fundamental is lost. I disagree.
Audiobooks are not reading so much as "being read to." And while I'm certain different parts of a listener's brain are being engaged, I don't doubt that a good portion of their imagination fires in the precisely the same way as a reader's.
I wouldn't say listening to an audiobook is the same thing as reading that book. It's not "reading" if an illiterate person could do it. But (assuming no abridgment) the author's words are still being consumed/received, in toto, in the recipient's mind, albeit through a different delivery system.
The cover to The Bungalow Mystery, showing Nancy Drew covertly watching Betty Boop digging a makeshift grave. Later they will become lovers.
take my money
The story opens with a playful scene that explains the title... and then descends into nightmare. It's so good.
A Christmas crΓͺche scene. On one side, the figurine of Joseph is telling one of the Wise Men, "I just wish we'd been told that the kid's halo was going to be so pointy." At center, the baby Jesus figurine lies swaddled in a manger, sporting an elaborately carved, very spiky golden halo/starburst/corona upon his head. The figuring of Mary kneels off to the other side, pressing a light blue ice pack to her upper lap/crotch area, repeating "Ouch ouch ouch ouch ouch" ad infinitum.
Oh, Mary. Did you know!
A Kallana in a gold headdress sits on a carpet between two well-dressed Indian children, a boy and girl in fancy silk garments, in a hand-tinted vintage photograph
A Kallana appears to be performing a handstand on the edge of a low table surrounded by men posing in a vintage black and white photograph, one of whom holds a toddler.
A Kallana is mostly hidden behind a very young Indian boy in fine clothes and a turban. Its trunk extends above the boy's shoulder.
A Kallana, its trunk curled aloft, sits atop a pedestal between a young Indian woman and a man seated in chairs, in a sepia-toned, antique photocard portrait
Ooh! One of my favorite cryptids (to photoshop into photos) is the Kallana, so seeing the skeletons of/info about its real-life counterpart is pretty exciting.
I often think he feels as though he's a player in a winner-takes-all dick-measuring contest-cum-Risk* game with other Masters of the Universe, and worry that, faced with his looming mortality, he'll want to go out with a bang. (*I honestly believe this is why he wants Canada and Greenland so bad.)
Donald Trump Jr. and his fiancΓ©e, as a Lego person and a knockoff Barbie
same energy
A museum display cabinet of primitive utensils including an early chromium fork
A New Yorker magazine in a PlAin Brown Wrapper (tm) imprinted with a giant m-dash.
$Million idea: The PL"AI"N Brown Wrapper (tm). A mailing sheath imprinted with some AI-generated Lorem Ipsum gobbledygook, or maybe just one big iconic m-dash. Crunch the numbers, Sharks, and get back to me!
a Neanderthal gazes at a cave painting of a crude Netflix logo while uttering an approximation of the streamer's audio signature
I still call the refrigerator "the icebox".
A coroner's latex-gloves hand points out contusions left on the neck of a strangulation victim that closely resemble the beads on a cheap, bulk-ordered friendship bracelet.
"Ligature marks on decedent's neck appear to spell 'TEAM BUILDING'..."
the Peugeot Hypersquare steering wheel, with colorful inflatable Air Dancer tube men popping out of its holes
the airbag setup is concerning
In 1990 I went to a weekday matinee of the Woody Allen movie Alice at the Paris Theater (near the Plaza) and ex-mayor Ed Koch and a male companion were sitting in the row in front of me. I thought: "Wow, this has to be the most New York experience ever!" And then Yoko Ono sat down right next to me.
the updated Bluesky app logo
I like the more saturated/graduated blue and puffy butterfly. But the edges make me want to scrape it off with my fingernail like a sticker price tag.
"I'm afraid your cancer screening came back positive."
"Hooray!"
Gonzo blowing his trumpet in the key art to Knives Out
what
Gonzo blowing his trumpet in the key art to Knives Out
what
creepy mylar "4" balloon superimposed over the Grinch's hand
Yeah. Something looks creepy wrong there.
Trump in the zipper scene from "Something About Mary."
