Sunday Evening Post

The week in pictures.

 At the beginning of the week, the Batmobile caught a flat.

 Here was the culprit:

A scissor blade.

I got my eye on you, pal.

 Sauce.

 Meatballs.

 Chocolate mouth.

 My wife rented a huge rolling magnet and trolled our driveway to prevent another flat tire.  Here is what we ended up with - a cornucopia of sharp and dangerous objects.

 Wouldn't you like to get away? 

Sometimes you want to go 

Where everybody knows your name...

My Uncle John turned 70, so my Mother surprised him with a visit to Florida.

For a guy who grew up in little old Houston, DE, he's done pretty well for himself.

When I called him to wish hime well, he advised me to drink a beer in his honor.

I obliged.

When my wife was a young one, she cracked her forehead open

(she still has a darling scar).

She remembers rubbing Cococare on it while she watched TV, to help minimize the scar.

 We live in wondrous times.

Pole dancing has its own magazine and people actually make a living at it.

God Bless.

 Swim meet graffiti.

 Requiescat in pace.

Tyler popped into the new house.  It was grand to see him and marvel at how old he has gotten.

Time keeps on slipping...

My Uncle shares his birthday with Neil Diamond.
This is his favorite song.
Happy Birthday, John.


See you next week.