Pizza At Lily's Pad

Hope you're hungry!

{{Bunny Nest}}

Soooo. . .where DID you think Easter eggs come from??

Phredd and Phœbee: Phugitives?

We hadn't heard hide nor hair of the Snowes since their postcard from Palm Beach, and we got a little worried. So we sent a private-eye down to Florida to check on them. It seemed that no one had heard of them or seen them, but odd reports of an international jewel and art thief were circulating as far down as Miami. People were saying that the thief's m.o. was to leave puddles of water about. Quirky.

After a lot of snooping and who knows what else, the detective finally discovered that Phredd and Phœbee were ensconced at the Crowne Plaza Hotel in West Palm Beach! Are you wondering how they can afford to stay at a place like that? How do they have money at all? Don't think about that! Maybe Phredd and Phœbee really are international jewel and art thieves. Hmmmmm. . . puddles of water, eh?

How could you think such things about such nice people! You are being rather suspicious, don't you think?

So far, the private-eye hasn't even caught a glimpse of the two lovely Snowes! He doesn't have a single photograph to justify his none-too-shabby advance (his clothes however, were quite shabby). So how did we acquire the photo of Phredd and Phœbee in the Gallery? Hmmmmmm. . . maybe it's a hoax?

No way! The Gallery monitor was keeping a close eye on the two. He said they kept getting too close to the artwork, and he was about to kick them out of the place. Phredd and Phœbee really seemed to love the Georgia O'Keefe! "Such warm colours!", they said. He was so suspicious that he took this snapshot, and notated their comment which he just happened to overhear. The watchman said if that painting ever showed up missing, they'd know who the thief was right away. Is this fair?

The detective also managed to get an interview with the janitor of the Gallery, who said there were some really big puddles he had to mop up. As per the detective, the poor man looked a little soused with consternation.

Phredd and Phœbee, phugitives? How could you think such a thing!

This Phototoon is by Karen Gladys Henry ©2007 and is a work of phiction. (ya think?)

Phredd and Phœbee at the Beach

"Hey friends and fam! We've been enjoying our stay in Florida so much we forgot to write! Hope ya'll (that's how they talk down here you know) aren't too jealous. It took us a while to warm up, so we roasted marshmallows on the beach, and had s'mores! We've collected lots of shells and we're taking lots of pics. Don't think we're getting tan though (he. . .he)! Tomorrow we're going to try the seadoo. No pics for that though. Don't get any frostbite while we're gone."

Love and hugs, Phredd and Phœbee Snowe

This PhotoToon is by Karen Gladys Henry © 2007

All characters and situations are phicticious, and any resemblance to real people, places, or things is totally occidental.

Hand Over the Chocolate

I'm really not sure who likes chocolate more, Jake or his owner. Jake's not allowed to have chocolate though, and I'm not sure he was too happy about having his photo taken either, after being dragged away from the s'mores. Jake is a Weimaraner puppy, believe it or not!

Obviously, this is not a very original idea. There's something comical about these dogs, though. Check out the link on the title above. I made this for a friend, and she thought it was funny. Me too. ;)

Unintelligentsia

The ichthyosaurus ich [sic]
thumb times
mysteriously myth represented (hic)
by well, intent-shunned
people.
The theory of thumb ich [sic]
that thumbthing over-et it.

The thick thesaurus ich [sic]
thumb times
most seriously myth used (hic)
by those attempting to be
pedantic.
The rule of thumb ich [sic]
to never over-edit.

The pterodactyl ich [sic]
thumb times
quite terribly myth placed (hic)
in the Pleistocene
epoch.
What thumb think scientific ich [sic]
practically psychotic.

The poet dactylic ich [sic]
thumb times
deplorably myth construed (hic)
in this plasticine
era.
But what thumb think artistic ich [sic]
truly (sigh) cot tic.


by Karen Gladys Henry, circa 2006

Don't Mind Me I'm. . .

. . . just a little nuts!