Happy birthday Mark Twain!

click on image to enlarge

Foolosophy

click on image to enlarge

Foolosophy

click on image to enlarge

Sunday Morning Coming down

click on the image to enlarge

Foolosophy

click on the painting to enlarge

Love

   Earth looked into the mirror and gazed upon his hideous reflection, "I look 
like death," he whispered to nobody in particular. Well...okay, maybe he wanted 
the moon to hear.
   "That's not death you're looking at," the moon giggled, "that's the Pacific Ocean!"
   "Grrr....nobody takes me seriously," he grumbled before he turned around and 
fell asleep.
   The moon cried.

   Maybe we didn't say it very much but we did love you Earth. You were there 
for us. No other planet in the universe was as giving as you were to us. 
We took you for granted but that doesn't mean we didn't love you.

Foolosophy

click on the image to enlarge

Foolosophy

   I love William Blake, but if I express my feelings for his art by raiding his
grave, pouring gravy on his bones, and then feeding them to my neighbour's dog,
would that still be holy?
   William Blake's ghost: You aren't paying attention! It has to be living to be holy!
   Okay, well, uh... what if I pour yogurt into your skull and let him lick it out?
   William Blake's ghost: Sigh...the yogurt will be holy, but not my skull.
   If I started licking up this holy yogurt, would I be holy?
   William Blake's ghost: click!

When the time comes...

   Do you want to become a monster? I don't want to either but I still can't change 
the horrible fact that it is indeed Monday morning.
   Please stay out of jail and don't kill anyone today. 
   At least wait until your boss turns into a zombie before you take action.

Peek a boo!

click on the image to enlarge

Angelica... part one

   As I rub the poor little dead dove back into the world of the living, I imagine that my real life is somewhere far away in space and time. 
   Suddenly, I'm back in my real bedroom in my real home and it takes me a few moments to come to the realization that I'm not even a real human being.  Nothing like one!
   I'm green and have twelve tiny noses on my bum, (like everyone else).
   I was on Earth for so long that I forgot who, (or what), I really was. I actually still love those wonderful humans that I was so close to.
   I really badly want to go back to Earth but my mother screams, "you can go back to Earth at bedtime like everybody else! Now get up and eat your breakfast!"

Is it possible for Mum and Dad to just find some way to fix this broken planet together, (without killing each other)?

click on the image to enlarge

Foolosophy

click on image to enlarge

Foolosophy

click on image to enlarge