Putt-putt

If you’ve been reading this site recently or not reading it, which happens a lot, you are aware that some wires were yanked out or chewed on causing new posts not to appear in the reader.

The brilliant and macabre photo-lovin’ Angie Z suggested sending out a flood of quick posts to unclog the internet tubes. “You don’t have to write too much,” Angie said. “Maybe just ‘fart’.”

So that’s what this is. A fart, or putt-putt if you are sophisticated or easily offended by the word f–t.

There’s also this:

This was posted on someone’s Facebook wall. And, well, um, it’s. . . uh. . . nice? Sure, we’ll say nice and leave it at that.

Please excuse my putt-putt.

 

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27 comments

    1. I think that would be best.
      But just one thing, is that eagle his dad or mom? Because he is a eagle/man hybrid, right?

      It’s just so………………uh…………………..well……um, the road looks realistic? Yes.

  1. Thank you for crediting my brilliant idea that already has WordPress tech support saying, “Who is this genius and why is she not on our team?” And if anyone is offended, just blame it on the Metamucil.

    Oh, and I do prefer putt-putt but only because I have a TM on “fart”. That’s okay; you didn’t know.

    1. You are brilliant cuz it worked. It worked! I have been putt-putting in celebration all morning.

      I will make sure not to use f–t without first getting your permission from now on.

      1. I’m so happy for you! The musical fruit has done it again!

        In other news, my post today disappeared from my reader. It was there this morning when I published it. Then it disappeared an hour later. I republished it three times since then and it finally reappeared after the third time. Do you think WordPress tech support is trying to get back at me since my brilliant tip might have risked making them obsolete? (I love you WordPress tech support. Please know that.)

      2. Oddness. I actually got a reply from WordPress saying they were having some technical difficulties with the site redirect, but it was fixed. Maybe something else went a little screwbally? I do see your post in my reader. I don’t know if it was there earlier because I read your post through my email.

  2. I am deeply disturbed by this illustration. It looks like the Apocalypse, in which cops, wearing furs that women used to wear in Atlantic City in the 1950s, steal teddy bears from young children for nefarious purposes.

    1. I had no idea how to describe those eagle wings…until now. That characterization is dead-on. I’m somewhat concerned about the placement of the child. It’s very crotch-central.

  3. The photo creeps me out, and hat bald eagle is about to snatch the bear out of the girls arms.
    My Mom once said, “I’m tootin’ like a tug boat.” My husband and I were caught off guard, and we laughed ourselves silly. Tootin’ like a tug boat. That is way better than ‘fart’. Way better.

    1. Son-of-an-eagle-police-officer! Maybe you have to click unfollow then click follow? I’ve unfollowed and followed myself so many times during this ordeal to try to figure out what was all screwy. I see it in my reader so maybe that’s the key?

  4. OH MY GOD WHY WHY WHY??!!! why does patriotism now equal absolutely no design skills? i mean jesus christ, talk about clutter or clusterf*ck of wrongness. nooooooooooooooo! too much. why wasn’t there a virgin mary on the back of the policeman’s shoulders while he held up a bloodied lamb in the other. i mean he’s only got one arm around the girl, he’s got another arm, and a back, right? i say not patriotic enough. i would also like to see stages 3 and 4 of this photo when he becomes completely engulfed by the world trade center image and the bald eagle. there should also be some severed praying hands in there. i’m just sayin’. ;) mother

    1. Those are some fantastic design ideas. I personally would like to see some product placement like maybe he could be holding a Coors Light Beer and be standing on a Domino’s pizza box. Either way, whenever I see this I cry tears of red, white and blue.

  5. Okay, now that poster is some seriously weird solid Putt-putt. Makes me wonder just what planet some people are really from… but truth is that I’m much more interested in figuring out what planet we can send them to, cause I just don’t want ‘em here on ours.

    1. What was interesting were the comments underneath saying “how beautiful” “how inspiring” “how eagle-y” (I mighta made up that last one). For a few minutes, I would like to see through their eyes because that would be Willy Wonkaesque.

  6. We call them futzies. Because we are both elegant and cutsie. And I have that poster. It is on the ceiling over my bed, so that when I am making sweet love to my legally-married-and-heterosexual-white husband I can feel the extra sweet patriorgasm.

    1. I am crying with the emotion of a swarm of eagles chopping off their wings to glue on to a swarm of police officers. I am now working on a second poster that conveys this image.

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