Het kan niet silly genoeg zijn.

Van meer blauw op straat naar meer straat op blauw… of zoiets.
Maar dan andersom.

Het was gisteren π-dag.

Tijd voor wat variatie in de voeding. Vier nieuwe gerechten op de Bakken met Burgers afdeling, alle met totaal verschillende ingrediënten. Want: gevarieerde voeding is gezond!

– Andijvierolletjes
– Pannenkoeken gevuld met spinazie en geitenkaas
– Rijst met sperziebonen en gehakt in tomatensaus
– Chocoladetoetje

Dat het u allen mag smaken.

Big Shot – Bonzo Dog Band

I am the Big Shot.
You heard me right the first time. Name of bachelor Johnny Cool. Occupation: Big Shot. Occupation at the moment: just having fun. What a party that was – the drinks were loaded and so were the dolls.

I narrowed my eyes and poured a stiff Manhattan. Then I saw… Hotsie. What a dame. A big, bountiful babe in the region of 48-23-38. One hell of a region. She had the hottest lips since Hiroshima: I had to stand back for fear of being burned. Whiskey wow wow. I breathed. She was dressed as before the bed. In that kind of outfit she could get rolled at night… and I don’t mean on a crap table.

It’s kind of revealing, isn’t it? Revealing? It’s positively risky – I like it. She said: “You’re a man with a thousand Gs, right?”
“A thousand what?” I quipped. “G-men, girls, guns, guts.”
“You’re my type.”
“Wrong, baby” I slapped her hard. “I’m an `L’ man: strictly liquor, love and laughs.”

She stared over my shoulder: “Play it cool, Johnny.” Play it what? I flipped. “Listen, I fought my way up from tough East Side New York. Lead-filled saps and sub-machine guns, like this.” [gunshots]

She said: “Johnny, this is a deadly game, have a few laughs and go home.” I shuddered. Normally I pack a rod in pyjamas – I carry nothing but scars from Normandy beach. I said “Wrong, baby, you can’t fool me.” She spat playfully. “I’m ahead of you, Johnny.” I studied the swell of her enormous boobs and said: “Baby, you’re so far ahead it’s beautiful.”

“You, you are, you are eccentric, I like that.”
“Electric chèri, bonque off my rocket, tout comprende?” We spoke French fluently. Our lips met again and again. “Yeah, yeah yeah” I slobbered. Hotsie said: “You’re slobbering all over the seat, kid.”

I went home late. Very late. What can I say to my wife? “Darling, I’ve been beaten up again?”
Let’s face it: she’s credulous as hell.
A punk stopped me on the street. He said: “You gotta light, mac?”
I said: “No, but I got a dark brown overcoat.”

”Opponents of evolution want to make a place for creationism by tearing down real science, but their arguments don’t hold up”

Meer hierover

Je moet maar durven…

Wie is het?

Oplossing

Voor je het weet is Clara weg.

Tijd voor een wakkere burgers lego borrel! Iedereen lego meenemen!

(via Flabber)

Kan geen kwaad op de zondagmorgen.

Allemaal leuk en aardig, die website van The Westboro Baptist Church. Maar ik heb ze toch maar even gemaild in de hoop een bevredigend antwoord te krijgen.

En Zweden schijnen ook klootzakken te zijn.

Voor we hem vergeten…

Hij is dood.

Dit is veel leuker. Een soort mat van 120 ballen die je kunt vormen naar de emotionele staat in je hoofd.

^NSFW