I made two other pages like this one, what with the shopping mall pictures. However, since the outing took place seven months before the page did show itself, I have minimal recollection of the events which occurred, so there is no unifying story, and I can't even guarantee that the pictures show up in chronological order. Alas, they are in chronoridiculous order (that being as clockwise is to clockfoolish).

I'd prefer you not to kiss me at all.

Oh, my mistake. I thought those were chocolate chips.

Does this mean someone has three legs, or another person only had one?

Pink is not a good color for a thing that will be around you all the time. If you get hit by a stagecoach or someone steals your Spamburger, you don't want to be staring at your mockingly happy pink shoes for the rest of the day, and yet you'll be too ashamed to stare in any other direction.

there's plenty of room for the tt_e on there!

...who suffered a terrible suffocating cribdeath. Either that or Daddy realized Chelsea had a rabbit head and did the job himself. The end.

''ahhh!  my arms!''

Surprisingly, this was still there. You'll notice another all time classic on the screen, NES Friday the Thirteenth. Everyone knows the reason there weren't more Friday the Thirteenth games was due to the first being so unquestionably perfect that the developers all considered their lives complete and killed themselves in a massive suicide pact.
You might also detect that despite the exact same location, packaging style and commitment to quality in the actual product, its name has changed. Although Power remains (that means it's not steam-propelled), the "Player" has become "Games" (which was actually a Nightmare on Elm Street storyline). Do not worry, however. This is similar to how an underaged paraplegic raccoon pornography website may send you the same e-mail from several different addresses. It's not going anywhere. Ever.

the legendary 1950s gay diner!

Understand that the stick itself is super, and no prospective increase in joy should be in any way inferred, nor shall the manufacturer be held liable should a positive change in joy not occur.

is Pac Son like Pacman Jr?

These stuff has been the ice cream of the future period tm for at least ten years now. When is it going become the ice cream of the present? I hope the people who sell this aren't secretly hoarding future just to keep the price up, like they do with diamonds and koala meat. Or maybe they do it to ruin both my enjoyment of the current time period and my hopeful, naive longing for the next at the same time.

No, I hate lemons!

This sign means that it's a good thing when The Pope is confused. I guess he doesn't approve of these shoes. Or rather, considering the significant delays in this page's construction, the previous pope did not approve. Obviously, the Catholic world waits anxiously to hear how the newer pope will judge the issue.

as seen in bargain bins!

Only an Olsen siblings' movie can make that seem like a compliment. You mean to tell me that the film didn't have a straight-to-video release, and that a couple of people actually saw it being shown in theaters? Wow. They could make the line seem even more like a compliment if they prefixed it with "better than."

but I need a *whole* sweater!

“Ohhh... too much pudding!”

then get it!  GET IT!


This blob has nothing to smile about. It has neither neck nor limbs, so there's no plausible way that it can feed itself. It probably can't walk either, if it can even stand up. It is only glad because its cranial gunshot wound has damaged the brain tissue that makes it aware of those things. I shouldn't have to put up with this.

John Adams?  Who's that?

I'll be glad I read this book when I go to record my song "Learning to Read."

murder she DID

I don't know why anyone would invite Angela Lansbury anywhere. If her occupation is writing about murders (or perhaps just writing the word "murder"), isn't it in her own best interest to keep them happening? If she shows up at your door with a typewriter, get out of there. Don't bother sending her away, she is drawn to the creepy skull imagery in or about your place of residence, so she'll be back. What's worse, is you may not even know it's her this time, for she is a master of disguise.

murder she cowrote with non-fictional person not in the story

Note the plaid on the green sweater in the second picture.

what is this object, anyway?  A roach trap?

And you say "like it's a bad thing" like you think it's not, in fact, a bad thing. But it is. Everyone who knows you hates you. Anyone who seems to appreciate your company only pretends to because they think they stand to gain some monetary or material advantage from it. Someday they'll realize it's pointless and they'll abandon you as well and you'll deserve it. Your close-minded arrogant attitude may get you a few cheap laughs at the expense of others, but it won't save you from the pitchfork I'm going to throw at you while you're going down the de-escalator. If I miss and hit someone else, it will be my error that has saved you and nothing more.

WALDENBOOKS RECOMMENDS things which have already proven to sell well

These may appear to be similarly conceived, designed and titled books written hurriedly on little more than spite and bias in regards to two similarly educated, dressed and gestured people who are not sufficiently skilled to lead a nation, so why did George Bush win in the end? If we can assume that the only people who'd be swayed by a book like that can't read (my song will be for them also), then it is very possible that one such person seeing these two books together would choose the candidate accompanied by the Nintendo Seal of Quality.
And that is why.

Speaking of unfit commanders...

''My fellow Americans:  QUACK.''

Fortunately, there are a mere three microphones, and they're prop ones without wires.

''All right, who put crazy glue on my hands while I was asleep?''

It failed for using a completely different cast than its predecessors, but few people are aware that Macaulay Culkin actually did audition for Home Alone 3.

leg amputees are welcome, though, apparently.
PASSENGERS ONLY.
A note to non-passengers: If you aren't going to be on this, stay off of it!

and me without my photon torpedoes!

This is not a flashback to kindergarten physical education class. This is an actual scene inside an actual store that presumably sells merchandise to people competent enough to drive motor-powered vehicles. This is a picture of a strange thing, but I wish I was around when whatever sequence of customer over-reactions that led to this being here occured. Just the point when the cashier stopped arguing, walked away, came back with tape, and laid lines on the floor would have been a fine moment in the history of humanity to capture on film. Even better, the point when shoe-sillouhette stickers were sought for the benefit of those who still did not quite "get it."

...or we'll steal your neck!

I should probably watch a lot of my steps. I also won't answer any questions regarding how big the watermelon was if asked by a person immediately to my left or right.


Or a broken leg. Whatever.

that's a load of dunk


These could very well displace breakfast burritos as the worst non-cereal bad breakfast. Toast, I know at least has real bread in it. I think this is more likely to contain actual Aunt Jemima than anything authentically waffelian. If these are homestyle, then I live in Aunt Jemima's reasonably disturbing food processing factory / weasel cybernetic research laboratory, and if I do, why should I have to buy what is my own local specialty?

That there was the closest you will ever come to watching me "slam dunk."

I wish I hadn't typed that.

they ought to center, but they don't.

They do a very good job. I've never had to manually hear anything.

Your internet browser has a stupid looking icon Leaving? I don't blame you. But don't go there.