View allAll Photos Tagged BLAME
Blue-faced Honeyeaters, as you would expect, have brilliant blue patches around their eyes. Juveniles have green/yellow patches which they must grow out of. This young bird, seen at Indigiscapes had a definite orange cast to the patches. Clearly thinks it is my mistake.
day fifty two.
-It hurts only when you do it by yourself-
Sooo,i'm back, yeah. i won't tell you again "sorry", just believe me it was a very stressful and tiring week.
About this [Please you have to read,it doesn't mean a thing if don't understand it] !
It's about things that hurt you..you know, its a thing when other people do something that makes you feel rly bad, and its another one if you do it by yourself,and see the results. You only have yourself to blame, and that's the worst thing ever.
Experimental Video For The Don Turner Penned Song:"Don't Blame Me"Unedited Digital Capture:2016:Copyright:2017:
Joel A. Fairchild;=[}ILYJAFFE{}=;
Off to Toronto on holiday. In terms of conceptual stuff, I might be a little quiet until mid august. However, I am still hoping to post my 365 stuff from my iPhone if I can get wireless access. See you soon!
could you blame me for the tears
when you've never felt the fears?
[wilt - open arms]
____________________________
quotes and lyrics often inspire me. i first heard this song many years ago, and just recently rediscovered it. when i looked up the lyrics, i just had to use this line for one of my pictures.
life's good, generally, even though it's stressful as well. but the countless beautiful moments make up for every little bit of negativity that might swallow my thoughts sometimes.
For those who dont know Foster Blaine , he is an American poet at Poemhunter , who was not just critical about my poems but also of my being a poet.His remarks were racist, he felt only those who spoke English lived in America have a right to be called poets..
Well I dont blame him, knowing the overall attitude of American towards the sons of their soil the indegenous American Indians..I am only a Brown Indian ...during Moharam I become a Red Indian..
Some stone sculpted American women hearts would prefer to call me a Dead Indian..
I leave behind my verse to soothe their premature hopes and aspirations..
Cross eyed
tongue tied
toothless
rapturously
ruthless
Duck lipped
Togolese woman hipped
Gargantuan girth
Wordless worth
Walrus fold chin
A human dustbin
Demonically Dwarf legged
Embryonically egghead
Tyrannical
Mechanical
Prosaically boring
Prostituted reader
Outpouring
Sedentarily snoring
Fostered unblamed
unclaimed
Underscoring
Cavernous cavities
Rectal Rhapsodies
Transgendered
Exploring
On Indo Gangetic plains
Offshoring
An empty bag of wind
Made in USA
And so encouragingly
Adoring
Caiapahas like
Poem temple priest
Head made of Gold
Body of silver
And all held up
By mud bathed clay feet
One leg in the grave
This war headed
Poetic beast
An obituary in advance
Before he ends
As deceased
His scarred tarred soul
To the nether regions released
To say the least
Cybernetically we celebrate
Foster Blamed Feast
Last yet not the least
North by North East
635th poem
picture of me and Indian floral wreath of a death he could not cheath..
picture shot by Dr Friedritch of Austria
#firozeshakir
#buzznet
#beggarpoet
Blåmes Parus
Latinskt namn:
Parus caeruleus - vilket betyder, himmelsblå mes.
Typiska kännetecken:
12 cm. Huvudet är ljusblått och ansiktet till största delen vitt omgärdat av svarta band och streck. Vingarna och stjärten är mörkblå och undersidan gul, ibland med en antydan till mörk mittstrimma. Ryggen är mörkt grön. Båda könen mycket lika, men hanen har dock genomgående mörkare och klarare blå färg. Ungfåglarna har under sommaren gula kinder och ej så klara färger.
Finnes:
I löv- och blandskog, trädgårdar och parker. Förekommer allmänt i de södra och mellersta delarna av landet och i viss mån även i de norra delarna av landet.
Bored? Killing time at work? Here's the way I see it:
By liking the Blame The Monkey Facebook Page or following me on Twitter, I'm helping you, help me, help you, by helping (us) waste a few more pesky seconds at work before the end of the damn day.
Other time killers: Google+ |-| Smugmug |-| 500px |-| HDR Tutorials |-| Technical Mumbo Jumbo |-|
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The Space Dolphins Saga Pt. 4 - Going Home:
(This is part of the ongoing “Space Dolphin” saga. To view and read previous parts, click on the links below)
After my narrow escape from The Space Dolphins and after I discovered The Home World, I steadily began Approaching The Home World...
I orbited the blue planet many times before I settled on this approach. The whole time my mind was reeling. How could humanity have let this happen!? How could we have been so careless? How could we have let the Space Dolphins take over? -- I mean sure, they’re much better at politics, and I have to admit they look good in a tuxedo but, how!? -- Have I really been away that long?
As I remain here, floating gently in space on the path to Going Home, I remind myself that I alone chose this mission. I could have been sipping cosmic cappuccinos in the gift shop, but no. I chose a different path. My path.
With one foot forward I step onto the escalator of my destiny; going home on the path unknown, slowly climbing, moving closer and closer to the next phase of my mission. With extreme focus I...
“Elia!” What the hell are you doing now!?
“Huh?” I turn, “What is it?”
“I’ve been waiting for you at the gift shop for over an hour. The museum is closing and I’m ready to go home.”
It’s her again. -- I straighten, proud, rising to my full height. I speak slowly in my most serious voice, “I am going home...”
“What? No, that’s the 18th time you’ve been on that silly escalator and It doesn’t take you home, It takes you to the third floor. The exit is down here. Come on, seriously, I’m tired”
I fix her with a serious stare, “None of that matters anymore. There is only now. There is only the mission. There is only the...”
She cuts me off, “Wait.” She laughs, “Are you wearing a tinfoil hat?”
As the Earth’s gravity pulls me closer, sounds seem to melt away, blending together with the soft melody of distant laughter. Is this what the astronauts heard? -- Regardless, none of that matters now. It’s only the mission. There’s only the hope of a solution; a salvation. Will I be able to find it? Will I be able to save Earth from the Space Dolphins? Will there be time for one more cappuccino in the gift shop!?
To be continued...
* To read more click here
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For more HDR Tips, Tutorials, and Technical Mumbo Jumbo, visit: www.blamethemonkey.com
* All comments are welcome & Monkey Business is strongly encouraged. If you have questions, I would love to hear them. Thanks for viewing!
Meanwhile, outside Jerry's apartment...
!BUMP!
"Oh, I'm sorry, excuse me, Miss!"
"My fault! I was trying to get in out of the rain."
"Me too. Or I was going to catch a cab. It only starts raining when we don't have an umbrella, huh?"
"Right! Well-"
"I'm Michael! Michael Scott."
"Hi, Michael! I'm Elaine. Elaine in the rain..."
...laughter...
"Wow, that laughter again! Even outside! Listen, Elaine, want to share a cab?"
"Oh! Well, thanks Michael but I was just going in this building right here."
"But, I just came out of that building.* It would be a shame to meet in such memorable circumstances... and then just go opposite ways..."
"That's... that may be true, Michael. Where would your cab be headed, by the way?"
"A fine restaurant with a table for two. So, you know, Elaine, if you don't come with me I'm going to look pretty ridiculous sitting at a table for two by myself."
"You are an interesting fellow, Michael. Yes, a table for two sounds fine."
...laughter...
...applause...
⋅•⋅⋅•⋅⋅•⋅⊰⋅•⋅⋅•⋅⋅•⋅⋅•⋅⋅•⋅⋅•⋅⋅•⋅⋅•⋅⋅•⋅⋅•⋅⋅•⋅∙∘☽༓☾∘∙•⋅⋅•⋅⋅•⋅⋅•⋅⋅•⋅⋅•⋅⋅•⋅⋅•⋅⋅⋅•⋅⋅⊰⋅•⋅⋅•⋅⋅•⋅⋅•⋅
A year of the shows and performers of the Bijou Planks Theater.
Funko
Mini Moments
Seinfeld - Jerry's Apartment
Elaine
Funko
Mini Moments
The Office
Michael Scott
* Michael had been at Jerry's apartment as seen last week:
www.flickr.com/photos/paprihaven/52637493544/
after "joining" George two weeks ago!
Blame The Monkey || Google+ || Facebook || Twitter || 500px
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Sacred Path || Fushimi Inari Shrine
The Fushimi Inari Shrine with the seemingly endless path of Torii Gates was my favorite destination in all of Kyoto. Aside from the massive amount of creepy spiders, it was an incredibly soothing and spiritual feeling to walk up the mountain path. On this night there was a cool gentle breeze accompanied by the sound of thunder from an approaching storm and as the light faded, the sounds of the day were replaced with a tranquil silence that calmed me to my core.
Oddly enough, even with the enhanced D800 resolution, I didn’t find a single spider in this photo. It gives me the eerie feeling that they’re all hiding somewhere, waiting to ambush me. Man does that thought gives me the shivers…
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* All comments are welcome & Monkey Business is strongly encouraged. If you have questions, I would love to hear them. Check me out at BlameTheMonkey.comThanks for viewing!
Image by Richard Cawood | www.RichardCawood.com
This photo is licensed under a Creative Commons license.
If you wish to use this photo, please contact me.
This photo must be credited to "Richard Cawood" and a link to www.RichardCawood.com must accompany the image.
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At least when Zimbabwe failed in the 1983 Cricket World Cup they could blame the Coach - with a Dennis Falcon V for transport they probably never made it to most of the matches!
Tracky 81 is seen here during its brief career with the Yorkshire firm - it would pass to United in late 1983 and depart NBC the following year although it survived in independent operation longer than most of its sisters.
Possibly the only bus-enthusiast cat in the UK here as well admiring the Perkins V8 power in the rear.
Efter att ha flugit in i fönstret satt den några minuter och tittade. Sen piggnade den till och flög iväg.
My 7 year old, who is referring to himself as General Fireninja has been subjected to watching me build cool military stuff without him. I decided to put him to the test.
Here is his lumberjack, Frightened Fred, who is scared and spills his water after the tree falls. Here is his song:
I don't like being a Lumberjack. I don't like the job. 'Cause I always have to take the blame for burning fires and falling trees. They say I am the worst but I don't know why. Because I think I am the best. The end
if you've wondered why I haven't posted any Magnolia Green Jumpers this year.
I came across this duo as I was walking to the front of the house one day. Hoping they'd stay, I ran for a collecting cup and got lucky. She didn't drop her victim when I collected them or deposited them on my black glass stage here. I was sad for the green one because I love that species, but that's how nature does.
This angle provides an interesting comparison of the difference in eye arrangement between these two species of jumping spiders.
29 Arachtober 2019, 1 of 3
Colonus sylvanus with
Magnolia Green Jumper, Lyssomanes viridis prey
My Side Yard, Alexandria, VA
15 September 2019