Location, Location, Location?

I don't get get it. I sit on a bench all the time and I don't make news.

Back on the job

Do I look like I'm getting plumber's gut? Too much rabbit fricassee lately.

I think I'm all out of little helpers so I get paired with this ape today. He'll do.

You knew I'm a plumber by trade, right? I'm good especially for handymonkey jobs where you don't ask too many questions about paperwork. It suits me fine. When I need cash to tide me over between other jobs, it's reliable.

Sitting in the back yard

with a warm sun and a cool drink.

C'mon sing with Tiny Tim

Tiptoe through the tulips...

(pic taken by Butterfly)

Brains isn't exactly a family trait

A lot comes down to choice.

Like passing me those pliers, say.



I consider myself to be doing a social service, helping out the orphans in the community.

Does the word Stockholm mean anything to you, Fiver?

Oh, nothing, the pliers, if you would.

Curiosity isn't good for anyone

You back again? Which one are you? LIl Tattler?

Oh, your cute buddy brother's here too. You don't know when to well-enough leave me alone do you?


This? I wear it in memory of your pa. A memento you might say.


Whoops, my mouth slipped.


It's not unethical if it's not your own species you're eating right?

You might want to move along, bud. I've collared your mom too.


That's right. Go. And tell all your little brothers.

An Easter Wedding

I was the best man. That tells you about all you need to know about how hard up he was to find someone to stand with him. If whathisname's denim tie didn't already.

My date was a dog. She kind of felt deflated about the while event. Still, long live the bride and groom. Want me to open the wine?

What's that clicking bark sound?

Geez, this looks bad but bun-bun4 was hot.


Heh, well, yeah, so good to know they aren't orphans. I'm happy for them. For you.

Are they going back with you to the warren?

Er, how did I know you were a single mom? bun-bun2, you told me, right?

a line in the grass

It's kind of nice, these little squirts hopping around. Except from little Tommy Tattlepufftale.


Him and me are what a monk might call "uneasy" around each other. His suspcious offends my inner (very deep down inside inner) gentleman.

The mystery of the sounds in the bush by the path

I was being followed. Perhaps I was paranoid. I've had my periods of wingnuttery spins. Who hasn't but then it was clear that I was being followed by tiny gold bunnies. That's not as crazy as it sounds. Once I quit running, they all came at me.


When I first put it together, i was aghast. He never told me he had kids!

I've got a responsibility. Maybe he was a single dad and now look what I've done. I've chawed your pa. And your pa's paw.


One of them never trusted me tho. If he won't trust me, fine, I'll be big enough to return the favour.

Photos Always Surface

The one rule to remember about beer...records may be taken. Here me and Ron sit on the tall bar and have a pint. Big hearts there to find a mug his size. Enough to bring a green tear to the eye, even if I don't remember the photo being taken. But then in this age, photo is no proof of anything.