Gecko Bloggle

Films found in old camera via HappyPalace (which, if nothing else, is colourful).

Little Golden Book About God Translated into Zoggese…

Now as anyone knows, my interest in life’s headiest metaphysical mystery has led me on some strange journeys; from the highest mountain peaks of Peru to snort crystalized alpaca urine with an Incan shaman to the sewers beneath Istanbul to read 900-year old grafitti scrawled by the heretical Saint Phoqallyall. Having found no theological resolution in these rarified encounters I have left the door open to the chance that sublime truth may be found where I least expect it.

Check out the weirdness here.

Here’s Ripley, Tate, and me, in that order…:

Biggest email peeve: the “reply to all” function.

Check the rest of the tale of the email tape.

From Ebay via Duncan…

You are bidding on a mistake.
We all make mistakes. We date the wrong people for too long. We chew gum with our mouths open. We say inappropriate things in front of grandma.
And we buy leather pants.
I can explain these pants and why they are in my possession. I bought them many, many years ago under the spell of a woman whom I believed to have taste. She suggested I try them on. I did. She said they looked good. I wanted to have a relationship of sorts with her. Im stupid and prone to impulsive decisions. I bought the pants.
The relationship, probably for better, never materialized. The girl, whose name I cant even recall, is a distant memory. I think she was short.
Ultimately the pants were placed in the closet where they have remained, unworn, for nearly a decade. I would like to emphasize that: Aside from trying these pants on, they have never, ever been worn. In public or private.
I have not worn these leather pants for the following reasons:
I am not a member of Queen.I do not like motorcycles.I am not Rod Stewart.I am not French.I do not cruise for transvestites in an expensive sports car.
These were not cheap leather pants. They are Donna Karan leather pants. Theyre for men. Brave men, I would think. Perhaps tattooed, pierced men. In fact, Ill go so far as to say you either have to be very tough, very gay, or very famous to wear these pants and get away with it.
Again, theyre mens pants, but theyd probably look great on the right lady. Ladies can get away with leather pants much more often than men can. Its a sad fact that men who own leather pants will have to come to terms with.
They are size 34×34. I am no longer size 34×34, so even were I to suddenly decide I was a famous gay biker I would not be able to wear these pants. These pants are destined for someone else. For reasons unknown – perhaps to keep my options open, in case I wanted to become a pirate – I have shuffled these unworn pants from house to house, closet to closet. Alas, it is now time to part ways so that I may use the extra room for any rhinestone-studded jeans I may purchase in the future.
These pants are in excellent condition. They were never taken on pirate expeditions. They werent worn onstage. They didnt straddle a Harley, or a guy named Harley. They just hung there, sad and ignored, for a few presidencies.
Someone, somewhere, will look great in these pants. Im hoping that someone is you, or that you can be suckered into buying them by a girl youre trying to bed.
Please buy these leather pants.

Via Scott…

So who wants to lend me their camera?
http://www.flickr.com/photos/tags/cameratoss/interesting/

Rachaelsleight.com has some gumboots that don’t look like gumboots. Sadly, what they really look like is earthworm costumes for your legs. Still, if they had colours other than “Halloween Toffee,” which I’m sure they do/will, I could see people wanting these.

via No Garlic Please

I don’t know if it’s just me, or if this happens to everyone, and I just happen to find myself slightly more interesting than other people do, but I was moving some stuff around in the kitchen today, and noticed that the bottle of TUMS would look like SMUT if it was mirror imaged, and tried to take a picture of it, but it didn’t work out (too fuzzy, and hey, that’d be a “Z” wouldn’t it?), but then I noticed the can of coffee right behind the Smutty Tums, and flipped it over:

and started looking at it. But, like, really looking at it. In that Close Encounters of the Third Kind “This Means Something” kinda way.
First I thought “Splempe”, and ran that around in my head a bit. Nothing. My techie-sense was tingling though, and I took a photo of the coffee can and later cropped it to this:

Does it mean anything? Nope.
Does dyslexia have it’s self-discovery upside? Not as such.
Am I getting a little stir-crazy, and likely to start my next post with “So I was interviewing my cat about the new baby in the house and…”
Perhaps.

Via No Garlic Please.com

A sofa is discovered in the back streets of Deptford. Sad looking, with its broken leg and ripped leather, its fate was to be left out on the streets, damp and rejected. Thinking this was not a good way for it to go, Raw Nerve took it back to the studio. It sparked the group’s imagination as we considered all the things it may have experienced in its lifetime.

Stock.Xchng does free digital stock photography. Don’t forget next time Arwen comes looking for something.