Anvil in a Lace Bootie

Yes, he swims the seas tending to the needs of injured and sick fish and whatnot. This is the only known photo of the kindly healing merdoc.

1. Did you pay full price? 2. Straighten that painting. 3. Pretzels again? 4. Is that my lint brush? 5. Shredded wheat.

There was an odd man with a beard who had twenty siblings – how weird It’s no wonder that he spouted nonsense for free That artistic odd man with a beard That ebook over there, RAKARA, book 3 of The Bekka Chronicles, happens to be the loon’s saner self’s homage to Edward Lear. Red Wade […]

You know when you get to the top of the beanstalk and walk across to the giant’s castle? This is a photo of the brick threshold below the castle’s massive door.

One of Bunny’s earliest memories was of Aunt Emma, perched on a chair, looking like an enlarged parokeet in a harness. I’m all about the ‘parokeet’. Kudos, Up, for the whole dang novel, OIL. It’s jist a pip.

“It says, ‘The title of this painting I once painted is not The Student Prince Removes His Gloves Before Sitting Down In The Shed. It’s not Marco Polo’s Landlady either.’”

The undersea adventure of May Rampart began and ended here in the sabre-toothed mermonster’s grotto of waving leaves located some forty feet beneath the placid surface of Mermonster Bay.

The action takes place in a coal mine. The harpist enters from the left, the pregnant lion tamer from the right. Harpist (strumming): Do you recall Deborah Carmody, my comely vixen? Pregnant Lion Tamer (leering grotesquely): Why yes, I believe I do. Wasn’t she the swimming teacher who invested all her savings into straw? Harpist […]

In recognition of today’s game, the loon hereby pays tribute to the 1957 All Star, Wally Moon, possessor of one of the great, perhaps the greatest, unibrows in baseball history. Oh, and thanks, Mr. Moon, for lofting those little fly balls over the ridiculous screen in left field at the LA Coliseum in 1959.