Balls and Walnuts
more than you ever wanted to know
Category Archives: Pix
Friday Flickr Babes: Hunka Hunka Burnin’ Love
From sxKitten’s photostream . . .
Q: Why are these two men smiling?
Animals at the Fair
I don’t likes the food
Dizzy rides makes us jiggies
Those shyster games suck
But I likes me some . . .
Friday Fourteen: fourteen homes
A revealing measure of my state of mind right now: I’m looking hard at that word, fourteen, wondering whether it’s spelled right.
Fourteen? Forteen? It’s forty, right? Or is it fourty?
Don’t worry. I’m not making too many more critical medical decisions today.
Below the cut, a theme I’ve robbed from Dean: fourteen places I’ve lived. Pix to follow when I get the chance.
Friday Flickr babe: sexy
Would it be demeaning to use car slang here? I like her lines. The human form (hers included!) is so very, very beautiful.
As much as I love this, y’all know what I really like: a pretty face.
. . . Below the fold.
Richard Avedon, I’m not
Dean has posted more photos of the b’stila. I love this guy cuz he makes my food look AMAZING.
Speaking of photography: of the 41 shots I took on this vacation, perhaps six are keepers. What is my problem? Why do I have such a fascination with the backs of people’s heads?
In the days to come, I’ll subject you to a few of the nicer photos. Let’s start with Jake at the Vancouver Aquarium:
Now, if you’re one of those people who don’t give a damn about other people’s kids, you can appreciate the crisp blue sky, the feathery clouds, and the funky Pacific Northwest First American sculpture. But if you can indulge a proud papa, follow me below the fold . . .
Faturday Flickr Babe!
Faturday Flickr Babe explained.
(By the way: the “fat” in “Faturday” is a coincidence of requisite alliteration and Roman Empire theology. It has nothing to do with the lipid content of the buttocks above. I happen to think these are perfect buttocks, and in fact, there’s a huge range of buttock perfection.)
My favorite part? The itty bitty downy area above the crack. Mmm.
Come ’round tonight at 7 – 7:30 PM PST for Live Blogging. See ya soon.
D.
P.S. For your reading pleasure: Fun at the Creation Museum!!!!
Gray matter fatigue
I thought about writing a post, “Top Ten Items Encountered at Paris Hilton’s Cavity Search,” but after my #10 (From Room 209 of the Waldorf Astoria Hotel, the missing Gideon’s Bible), I came up with nothin’. Nicole Richie’s ________. Donald Trump’s _______.
Like I said. Nothin’. The Muse is underwhelmed by Paris, so perhaps it’s a good thing I decided not to write my own version of Paris’s Prison Diaries.
If you’ll allow me to kvetch, I’m still coughing (have I mentioned that yet?), had a full OR schedule today (7:30 – 5:00 without a break), got home late thanks to a hospital committee meeting, and right now I can think of nothing better but to crawl into bed and watch the end of Mythbusters. Tomorrow looks similarly grueling, including a Board of Trustees meeting. So unless someone can suggest an extremely easy Thirteen, we might be looking at a Friday Fourteen. Or a Saturday Sixteen.
Anyway. Here’s Jake, age five, clambering around at our local park.
D.
If there’s a hell, mice will eat my balls
While writing to a friend this evening, I realized that the high point of my research career was growing mouse ears in a petri dish. No, I wasn’t the guy who grew a human ear on a mouse’s back — not even close. Growing recognizable mouse ears in tissue culture was good enough for me.
Mouse fanciers, please read no farther. Even you gerbil fans might give this a second thought. Those of you who consider mice to be vermin and snake food may read on.
Follow me below the cut for mouse ear pix, plus a bonus pic I found while rifling through my slides.
Eight steps
Here are the rules:
1.Each player starts with eight random facts/habits about themselves.
2. People who are tagged need to write their own blog about their eight things and post these rules.
3. At the end of your blog, you need to choose eight people to get tagged and list their names.
4. Don’t forget to leave them a comment telling them they’re tagged, and to read your blog.
But this would be too easy. To make it more of a challenge, I’m going to begin at age 5 and share some memories in eight easy steps, five years at a time. Sound like fun? I think so. See me under the covers.
Chihuahuas
My parents’ 60th wedding anniversary is coming up next January, and for the occasion, my sister wants to put together some sort of scrap book. My sister, my brother, and I each have our own collection of photos. It’s always something of a shock when we compare photos. For example, my sis had never seen this photo of my grandfather.
My brother turned up a few black-and-white photos of our chihuahuas, Chi Chi and Perrita. That’s Chi Chi on the right. I’ve told you about her before — my canine sibling rival. My mother still blames my father for Chi Chi’s failed pregnancy. As far as my dad was concerned, a dog ought to be able to deliver her puppies without assistance. My mom wanted to let the vet deliver the litter. Chi Chi gave birth to live pups, but somehow, she smothered them within the day.
I suspect every family has stories like that one — something which, on the face of things, isn’t all that big a deal, yet it becomes emblematic for so much of the deeper pathology of the marriage.
I’m not sure what happened to Chico, Chi Chi’s mate. I remember him vaguely as a hyper hairless who wouldn’t leave Chi Chi alone. I also remember being very disturbed by his bright red penis, and by the way he would get twisted around (tail-facing-tail) when mating with Chi Chi. We didn’t have him for long.