Cleaning day for my photo morgue. Just a few. Nothing related, well almost.
Tycoon rhymes with typhoon. A prime example:
SOMEBODY needs to tell him.
This is for real. Created especially for the thirsty sniper:
Yesteryear (the Walrus):
Today (ah, vanity, thy name ain't woman):
(or, maybe it is)
No, I am not going to go into the other shaved areas (PeachTart has already done that one)
This is where it all may end up:
A friend of mine...sort of...sometimes...when he is playing the silencio game (yes, he really looks like this...or so Mr. Charleston tells me) Punch:
This would be Mr. Charleston (he's the one with the cell phone)...or so Punch tells me:
And finally, here is the only know frontal photo...with clothes...of the walkingman:
That felt good, getting all of the trash out of here. Maybe you should consider the same.
Tomorrow, all of the degenerate stuff...political speeches, nude photos of Sarah Palin and Dick Cheney molesting a mooose, Barbara Bush getting a wax job, and Joe the Plumber mending his pipes, getting a tuck, and applying for an Amex Gold Card, and for the discriminating B of Q readers, a photocopy of Rush Limbaugh's green card, and African Birth Certificate...stuff left over from last year's election, that kind of thing.