Thursday, 21 August 2008

Wednesday, 20 August 2008

The Amazing Pickuppity Brothers.

This is Miklophe and Milton Pichuppty.
Mike likes hugs, but only from trusted brother, and lifter, Milton.
Mike is the brains of the duo, the choreographer, the showmanship
behind each and every masterful lift.
Milton, on the other hand, is somewhat challenged in the art of thinking.
Always getting into confusing situations simply because he doesn't get
how the world works. The only time he appears to be in control is when
his big brother Mike is in his grasp, held up, high above his head. That's
when he's happy, when he thinks he's doing a good job and making his
brother proud.
Every lift achieved, every tap dance while holding Mike in the air
'makes momma proud'.
Milton doesn't have a long life expectancy though. Unknown to most, but
perhaps to the more astute of you, exposed by his bent and ruddy hand
there on his hip, the sure sign of 'mangle hand' syndrome, a terrible and
ultimately incurable predicament. Lifting is all that makes him happy, it's
the only thing the ruddy and otherwise decorative 'gland' is good for.
'Lifting is like Buddha's song'.
That's what simple Milton says.
Mike takes great care of his small, fading twin.
... and so they lift, for momma and for the sake of brotherly love, for one
day it will be the soft thought that lays Milty to his rest.
Sleep tight children, and take care of one another.

Saturday, 16 August 2008

Nervous about his review.

Flash just hadn't been hitting his quotas. Some days he'd be late
and everyone else was already hard at it, standing in the cold
cold sunless day.
He had been slacking off a bit, not sitting on the required number
of eggs. Not making whatever noises penguins make and going
'baaaaaawk' instead. He just didn't have his heart in it anymore.

They frolicked, but she already had a boyfriend

It's what's in me head, like.

Thursday, 14 August 2008

Fuppin Bean Farmer

Like his Daddy before him, and HIS Daddy before that Daddy ...
all the way back to, well, to his Grandaddy.
All were big bean farmers, and PROUD of it. Look at him there
chewin' his thing there.
It's like his Mammy always said ...
"Once there's a barrow of beans at yer feet, there's nowt can knock ye"
That's not really true though is it, but they're simple folk are the
beanfarmers. Simple, and they smell like tomato sauce.
Yes, life was good.

hamstropolis prisoner

by aBowman