View allAll Photos Tagged Punchline
We acted out a little series in the photobooth...
Divorce was a hot topic last night since a whole slew of people we know are calling it quits--so of course it devolved into a punchline as the evening continued.
If you have, tell me the punchline? :)
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©2009 Jason Swain, All Rights Reserved
This image is not available for use on websites, blogs or other media without the explicit written permission of the photographer.
A 'Crimson Tip' butterfly (Colotis danae) on a cluster of lantana flowers.
* the title is a take on a paint company's punchline ( Jenson & Nicholson )
' Whenever you see color, think of us'
i have beautiful friends.
this has been one of my favorite sets to edit.
*** NOTE: THEY ARE NOW GETTING MARRIED! ****
listen to their music at www.myspace.com/linden
----
there must be purpose here cause most of us keep waking up.
don't you think it's pretty here?
it's so unexpectedly predictable.
so sloppily intentional.
does anyone know the punchline yet?
explore #12
There she goes againâfull sprint, balloon guitar in hand, eyes sparkling like she knows a secret punchline weâve yet to hear.
Pina Polar turned the square into her own moving stage. This wasnât a showâit was momentum wrapped in costume and charisma
âš Fun twist: just like the last shot, she shared this one too. Always wild when the performer becomes the promoter
Three Killjoys Walk Into a Bar and Leave Before The Punchline
(Original post located at www.pmkelly.com/2018/11/three-killjoys-walk-into-a-bar/)
OK, so that's all I have of the joke so far. No build up, no punchline. But I think it's a good start. I mean, I don't recall ever hearing THAT premise before.
Freddie himself came up with that title, so don't blame the messenger.
Anyone can feel free to fill in the punchline.
The funny thing is that we were goofing on the commercials for Captain Morgan's, where they imitate the picture on the bottle. AKA leg on an imaginary barrel. However, the photographer chose to cutout to punchline, and now we just look like fruits.
These Wood Stork chicks seemed to be having a good time. I think the one in the middle told a joke and was the only one that got the punchline.
My first polish - I lost a bet, stakes were "Loser polishes their toenails pink, for a week" - by the end of the week, I knew I would be keeping my toes polished full-time....
(and, "Party Girl Creme" is for me a very dirty inside joke... the punchline is "finger licking good!" ;)
Two Snakes and a Griffin chill on a bridge . . .There's a punchline there somewhere, I just can't think of it right now. Do punchlines really matter when best friends hang together? It's been a long, long day of classes. Maybe no one will notice we skipped the last one.
"We could fall for the streets of Paris but the Eiffel's a joke and the punchline is me
And you know, you know it's not funny
But we'd laugh till it wasâŠ"
Back in 2020, Jorge Jimenez (jorge_jimenez_art) made a bunch of awesome covers for the Joker War series in the ongoing Batman title. Because I thoroughly enjoyed these covers, I decided to remake them with LEGO. This is a collection of all of them - you can see them posted individually on my Instagram.
Left to right:
Top: Punchline, Designer, The Underbroker, The Joker, Clownhunter
Middle: Harley Quinn, Catwoman, Nightwing, Batman 100, Grifter
Bottom: Ghost-Maker, Bruce Wayne, Barbara Gordon, Batman
This project took a lot of effort for me, I hope y'all appreciate it. The reception on Instagram was lackluster lol
#Surprise! Interpret whatever this theme means to you: it could be the astonishment in the face of your friend when it's her/his birthday surprise; it could be the reaction to an unexpected punchline to a joke; it could even be your expression of surprise when hearing good news! People can express surprise, shock and amazement in many ways and we want you to share your image of #surprise!
Think about a good surprise and submit your shot in the #FlickrFriday group. We'll showcase our favorites in Flickr Blog next Friday.
Photo CC-BY schillergarcia
Polk County
Nebraska
This is my favorite find of the 5 day trip and one the strangest coincidences I've came across. Too long of a story to tell, but I'll try a shorter version.
Only 2 known images on the internet I've found. Both wasn't sure of an exact location, but agreed it was between two small towns. I put in several hours of research into finding out without success. I combed Google satellite, topo, historic, and school maps without luck. I talked to several people on the phone including historical societies in the area. I gave up and ran out of time.
On the trip I came to the town of Silver Creek and struggled with the decision to go to the top of the state or southeast. I had the town circled on a non-detailed Rand McNally map long time ago for an unknown reason. Of course nothing in town. The back roads are in one mile grids with thousands of choices in the state. I chose to drive up and down the grid for 10 miles then skip 2 miles as you can see that far between. At some point I gave up and went east one mile to start leaving the gravel and seen a friendly older man mowing his yard. Then found a great old church by accident. (future post) Went back and chatted with the man mowing to find out its name. Later told me about the school he attended as a child one mile north that I would have missed. I arrived there pleased to find such an amazing building and realized that its the one I couldn't find through research. Then it dawned on me.
Here is the punchline.....it was 42 miles away from the rumoured location. That's pretty far and all, but when you draw a 42 mile radius around the rumoured location it encompasses hundreds of miles of gridded gravel road possibilities.
Hale Reservation
Many a summer day in my youth my friends and I would ride our bikes from our neighborhood in Boston for a day of fishing, swimming and exploring at Hale reservation in Westwood, Ma. It was about a six mile ride. We would pack a small lunch and one of us would be sure to bring the cigarettes (and sometimes a little weed) to help pass the time while fishing. I remember one of my friends would always share adult jokes that he had learned from his dad with us as well. We would break-out in hysterical laughter even though we didn't always understand some of the punchlines. Between the cigs and the jokes we thought we were pretty grown-up. The sweet days of Summer in the early to mid 1970's seem like another world away now, but they were indeed a much simpler time. As fate would have it and a few life changing events in my life. I am now living only a short walk from this beautiful spot.
We had a number of places on the list that we wanted to visit while in DC. My wife had her heart set on Williamsburg, I did not. We elected to try and do George Washington's Birthplace and few smaller places instead. George Washington's Birthplace was kind of a bust (sorry George), and it took us way longer to get there than we planned. There was no place to eat for lunch but Taco Bell (sorry Taco Bell), and the other places we wanted to see were going to be closed by the time we got there. Three hours in the car and the whole day seemed like it was going to suck. Even though it was close to 5, I threw caution to the wind and tore off for Williamsburg. Perhaps we could salvage the day if there was something cool there. And my wife would get to see the place.
I thought this place was a cheesy recreation-costume-infused-poorly-done-historical-field-trip-ville with bad food, rug rats, and 16 year old 'actors' trying to show me how to churn butter like they did in 1776. But I figured I could at least get my wife there so she could say she did it all, even if it was going to be closed when we got there. I figured the place would be gated and we would get to peek over the gate and at least see some neat buildings.
Boy was I wrong. This place was not what I thought. It was essentially an open-to-the public architectural wonderland for a history nerd like me, like us! Yes, many of the shops were closed, but the street was open. And the rug rats and field trips were all gone (yay). Some restaurants were open; so because the rest of the day was such a bust we elected to eat at a tavern.
We settled in, listening to a minstrel play a guitar (ok, some actors) when I looked out the window. I think the sound that came out of my mouth could be called a gafah.
Now, normally a photographer always watches the light, but I was so busy trying to salvage a bad day that I lost track of what time it was, as far as the light was concerned. That was yet another error for the day, because now I was in this expensive tavern and the sky outside was CRAZY! The tavern may as well have been a shackle on my feet. I wanted to go play now. The color was amazing. So many colors! I sat weeping at the window when my cute wife says "go." "You will not be here again anytime soon, go." She said this as my two rambunctious children were basically dancing on the table and juggling knives. So this offer was a big deal. Not to be taken lightly. It was a Williamsburg miracle! I shot out of the tavern so fast that it made the minstrels guitar spin. My buddy Tom (father in law) took advantage of the trails I blazed and ran out with me.
Don't look back, the consequences could be disastrous.
I kind of ditched Tom (sorry Tom), because I knew I only had about 10 minutes of light, and more importantly, about ten minutes before my wife was going to get antsy being alone with the terror that is my children. I also knew the comp I wanted was about three blocks away. I sprinted. It had just rained so I was looking for any refection I could get. I knew I wanted the church, and the sky, but no refection to be...wait. I spotted this puddle in the brick sidewalk. Perfect.
That would allow the viewer to get pulled in my the color, linger in the sky then follow the lightpost down into the lights refection in the puddle. Additionally, the puddle surround would capture the environment, and sense of place, with the detail of the brick sidewalk. I guess the joke doesn't work if you have to explain the punchline. Well, I hope you like the photo even if I tried to tell you why you liked it.
Enjoy.
Pete 5D's photos on Flickriver
Now to explain: I was sitting on this beach and saw this shot in my mind, I had to wait until the next morning to take it (angle of the sun & clean beach).
When you see the framed shot you are presented with an idilic location, but out of view there are red flags flying on the beach.
For those who don't know there are three coloured flags that are used: Green, calm sea and good for swimming; Yellow, slightly rough sea, swim with caution; Red flag, rip tides present do not swim in the sea.
The amount of people who do not adhere to the warning flags is unbelievable, I have actually seen three people being rescued by lifeguards from this location.
Now the punchline; in the last year 37 people lost their lives on this beach.
Equipment:
-Canon 5D Mark II
-EF 24-70 f/2.8L USM
-Manfrotto tripod
One Utama + Kodak Colour Plus 200
Queen of Leons Nur'ain
the soundtrack Extreme - Waiting For The Punchline
In a mist-veiled village forgotten by maps, two porcelain-faced twins, Mika and Miko, drift through the pines in unison, laughter tinkling like wind chimes carved from bone. With eyes that shimmer like ink in moonlight, they beckon wanderers to join their endless game, promising delight with riddles wrapped in giggles. But the laughter never fades......it only echoes, louder, deeper, until hearts burst from mirth or madness. None recall the rules; only the final punchline, whispered through the trees: âPlay with us, or stay with us.â
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The innappropriate statue behavior that launched a thousand punchlines, Chauffi takes advantage of a purple gorilla statue while Angeline, Sundry, Rob and the rest of the crew watch karaoke at Crocodile Rocks, Journalcon Austin 2003.
1/30/09 - I'm happy with who I am and the decisions I've made so far. I've got luck on my side and fate pushing me forward. Life's good.
close to the edge << PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE. so much better.
"She's innocent, but she was close to the edge.
One more step, and she probably would have been dead.
It's ironic how she got here, but she's glad to be alive."
- Punchline.
explored #119 :)
Satirical actors with creative stage names including Cole Hartkasch and R.S. Dickrat jest at other protesters at the Tax Day Tea Party April 15, 2009, at Lafayette Square in Washington, D.C. The actors played off of other protestersâ aggravation with recent tax hikes and the new administration by representing the countryâs private wealthy. But who got their punchline? The group came, like others, looking for a fight. But many lacked a sense of humor about America's private wealthy.
2023 A New Year's Eve Soliloquy
I was asked recently by a friend if I would ever be likely to teach someone what
he/she felt were my skills at pickpocketing.
Extremely flattering as the question was, I had never thought of what we do as a skill. Rather than just role play, or taking advantage of a friendâs condition ( like Pissed drunk, or compellingly overwhelmed emotionally) that makes them vulnerable.
We had a discussion over this with my brother and our group of friends, concluding that since non of us would ever try to do a lift on a stranger for keeps, the topic of this being an actual skill is pretty much mute.
That all being said, if there are professional pickpockets that are adept enough to actively lift jewelry from a victim, then either they are incredibly skilled, or just know how to spot an advantage brewing that would cook up into a victimâs concocting condition as described above.
For a clearer example of a concocting condition, let me relate my own experience this past New Yearâs Eve.
As is our habit, my friends and I celebrated New Year's Eve at our local âThe Poet & Peasant Pubâ.
I was on the decorations committee, so I was there to observe most of the guests coming in.
I was at the top of the stairs leading to the upper rooms, placing a party hat on Erik, the skull of the medieval poet who is the pubâs namesake. The macabrely grinning thing sits high on a ledge of the stairs overlooking the pub and its guests (peasants).
So I had a great vantage point to take an early drink and watch.
A friend(and he knows of whom I speak) had sorta challenged me to make a lift this evening. So it was with a thiefâs eye that I tried to look innocent as I watched the partiers coming in.
The pub proper is not large, but it has two larger first-floor rooms, one for dance, the other for dart competitions. Since we usually can expect a crowd of two hundred, all three areas come into play.
The upstairs rooms are old bedrooms used for various pub-related antics.
Now, Itâs not supposed to be a dressy affair at this party, but the guests, regulars, and visitors make it one.
The gents in suits, and tuxes, the ladyâs getting a second chance to show off by wearing an old gown or dress theyâve only worn once.
Rhinestones and pearls are the majority of jewels worn with splashy brilliance.
This year was no exception.
Once it was in full swing one would have thought it was an after-party at a actors' awards show.
Use that thought to picture in your mind a quick visual without me going into boring paragraphs of detail.
But for a brief idea, Iâll describe what my clique was wearingâŠ
Which, since it was one(or more)of us girls that became a victim that evening, it appears appropriate to do so.
So, In my role-play thief's mind I observed:
First off, myself.
I had on a smart ocean blue coloured satin dress with a below-knee length skirt and a slick solid top with a mock turtleneck collar. The sleeves flared out just below my elbows. I was wearing my gold necklace set with diamond Sapphire rhinestones with matching long earrings. Also being worn was my rhinestone cuff bracelet. The same one my brother once nicked from me at the very pub we were now partying at.
I also added two of my real cocktail rings to complete the glittery effect.
As far as the type of mark Iâd be for a thief? Well if being a twit came in degrees, and I was in my monthly period, I would be certified as a solid brown belt. If I was wearing real jewels, thieves would be able to have a field day lifting the bloody things, as did actually happen to me in a very similar situation as this evening. But it was not done by a real thief, just by an opportunist who took advantage of a victim who had been having herself a pisser.
But then, this is not that story.
My friend Byrne was wearing an old-fashioned black tux, black vest, black shirt, and blue bow tie, topped off by a black bowler. He had to work late at the Dyfed station that day and said he was wearing the suit he had on. So it was a pleasant surprise to see him dressed up, and I let him know it in no uncertain terms.
My brother was dapper in his tawny-colored herringbone vest suit, brown silk shirt, and gold satin necktie. A gold satin handkerchief stuck jauntily out from a vest pocket.
Ginny had again poured her lithe figure into the sleek satin Japanese-style Qipao sheath dress she had bought to wear in a play she acted in last spring. It was midnight black with a brite lime green inner lining and tight lime green Lycra pants. The only decoration on the elegant dress was a glittery silver rhinestone Dragon, with green slanted eyes and a red fiery tongue. It was embroidered crawling up one side of the dress, reaching around up towards her bosom.
Ginny was wearing a bib-style necklace of rhinestone emeralds with matching earrings.
The necklace she usually wore was still in a police evidence locker at Dyfed ( see my tea party story).
Her hair was held up on one side by a glittery clip. She wore no gloves, so her diamond rhinestone cuff bracelet lay on bare skin, as were the 3 cocktail rings she was wearing.
Ginny would be a tougher nut for thieves to crack. For she is logical to a fault and witty. She is also a black belt in Jiu-Jitsu.
But one really after her jewels, would just have to follow her around to see she is on the wee bit clumsy side. I immediately thought how useful a satin handkerchief could be if employed along the high, partially exposed neckline of her gown to acquire her necklace. And I happened to now know where to obtain one âŠ.
Two other two close friends (members of our role-playing troupe) also eventually showed up.
Merrick was dashing in a James Bond-styled black tux. The vest he wore had a gold and black calico silk pattern.
His Heather enticingly was wearing a very shiny black satin, slightly off shoulders gown with long white lace frills hanging down from the neckline and the gownâs puffy elbow-length sleeves.
Her jewellery was a ruby rhinestone necklace with matching earrings. Like Ginny, one side of her hair was pulled back and held by one of her real diamond chip hair clips. She wore black satin gloves, and around one wrist was the wide tennis bracelet Merrick had given her last Valentineâs Day. It was a beauty, two rows of diamonds and a centre row of round rock rubies. She also wore twin ruby cocktail rings.
Heather is a timid meek little thing who blushed easily and turn her head away whenever complimented(think of Actress Alison Pill ). Also, those black satin gloves of hers would hinder feelings of lifting from her skin.
Mum and Auntie were also in attendance.
Mum was wearing a shimmering dress of silvery metallic material. She was wearing a necklace of round diamond rhinestones, with matching earrings and bracelets. They were ones I first âborrowed â, sneaking them out of mumâs day jewel case and started wearing as my twin and I began first exploring our games of thievery.
Her personality and looks matched the actress Haley Mills. Her eyes getting delightfully large as she was surprised by something. It would be worth trying for her necklace just to witness that reaction.
Father was working the Dyfed station this evening, so my bodyguard-built uncle was the escort of both ladies.
Uncle(or the man from U.N.C.L.E . As I thought of him) was a rugby player in his youth and still had the physic for it. The tight tux he wore looked like it was bursting from the seams over his muscular build. But for all his looks he was a pussycat. Though a fierce darts competitor.
Auntie was very elegant in a long white silk dress with a red and green flowery print. She was wearing her gleaming set of pearls.
Our Aunt reminded me of the actress Janine Duvitski, in looks, and the way she was insecure, like Janineâs character in the Telly seriesâ Waiting for God.â She was a foil to far too many things in her life and would offer no challenge to a proper thief, which may be her saving grace.
Then there was our cousin Michelle(Micke)
She has come there with a group of her coworkers but divided her time with us.
Micke was enticingly wearing a very sleek, slick brown satin fully off-shoulder number that nicely outlined her petite figure as it poured along it down to her silver high heels.
Her Jewels were a sparkling collection that consisted of a wide V-shaped necklace that looked like a falling river of rhinestones, amazingly sparkling chandelier earnings, her favorite diamond-appearing bracelet, and several enticing rings.
But the real showpiece was the eye-grabbing broach she had pinned to the gown just at her waistband. It had a sparrow egg-sized diamond at its centre.
Now blonde Micke just wears her heart upon her sleeve. Just as gullible as her mum, she has fallen victim to many of our pranks. Micke was easy prey to a compliment or falling into a tight, searching hug.
And by now most of the rest of the crowd had entered.
I tapped Erickâs boney jaw open so the poor sod of a poet was grinning, then came down from my perch to begin mugging, er, mingling.
^^^^^^^^
And so the party rambled on, properly behaving like most pub-held New Yearâs Eve affairs.
I highly recommend going to one if you have never been.
Plenty to drink, and eat, games to play dancing to music( ours was live this year) camaraderie, storytelling and jokes, attempts to lite the cigar someone had stuck in Erikâs mouth, etc
Oh, And did I mention games?
Especially the one I was playing on my own, pretending to be a thief on the prowl.
I did miss one early opportunity on me mumâs necklace when I stood behind her in the snack line. She had literally backed into me and was reaching down to snag a small pork pie, exposing her throat and necklaces' clasp. But uncle was in front of her and turned to look as she asked him if he had one for himself.
Victims 1 Thief 0
But then as the night went by quickly and since Iâm not a real thief, I found myself having so much fun I almost forgot I was looking for a further lifting opportunity.
AlmostâŠ
End Acte 1
^^^^^^^^^^^^*
Acte 2
Almost forgot I had been dared to do a lift, that is until I had l came out of the loo around 11:00 and realized I was on my own.
For the first time that evening.
Everyone I had been with was split up into small groups now doing their own thing
I could either join in, watch, orâŠ.
And now I thought licking my freshly touched-up lips, time to do something on my own.
So like my pretend thief, I decided to have a walk around and seek an opportunity amongst my chosen potential victims.
Byrne, Merrick, Uncle, and my brother Craig were weâre still playing darts with another group of men. I had been watching before slipping away to freshen up.
Micke and one of her co-workers ( in green taffeta) were amongst a group dancing. I thought of cutting in as a possibility to make a score, for that glittering broach of hers was an enticing calling card.
I watched for a minute or so when suddenly an opening appeared that paved my way in. A man had cut in and was dancing with Mickeâs girlfriend. His back to Micke. I curled my fingers while licking my lips ready to plunge in and make a lift of a glittery broach.
I got no more than two steps in when the music stopped and the dancers headed off the floor in the opposite direction, including my Cousin.
I walked away, my heart pounding.
Victims 2 Thief 0
Our Mum and Auntie were sitting at a side table of the long mahogany bar, chatting away. Mum has an almost empty glass, so I surmised she may need to be making a trip to the ladies' room. I stored away that tidbit.
But there, in an opposite corner, underneath Erikâs perch, a makeshift stage was set up. With guests coming up to tell jokes and stories.
It was at one of the tables, chairs backed against the stairway, Ginny and Heather sat listening to an Irishman telling one of his drinking stories.
Both, in my thiefâs eye, were a royal treat to be observed. Two enticingly dressed and deliciously jeweled prospects, very distracted, sitting in a rather vulnerable location.
It was all far too tempting, and I felt an overwhelming urge to acquire a piece of jewellery and strted to excitedly tingle from deep within.
Ginnyâs necklace was beckoning with a flashy invitation. Heather's elegantly gloved hands with the inviting jewelry she wore, also called out to my inner thief with a fiery blazing hot lure.
^^^^^
The Irishman telling the joke was holding a long cigar as he started, his accent and mannerisms adding much embellishment to the story.
(Look up on Utube Mike Dunafon. An Irish drinking joke)
âIrishman Paddy O'Brien has moved to a small city in Wales. And as men are wonât to do, looks for a new local. He walks into the first pub he finds, and tells the bartender, "Give me three pints of Guinness."
The bartender obediently brings him three pintsâŠ..
As the story started I had circled over to the empty staircase and snuck up it till I was level with Heather and Ginnyâs chairs. Then I sat down.
I earlier decided that my game would be to lift a piece and make it outside to the victimâs car and write gotcha on it, for my thief to win, if I was caught or stopped by anyone, then I lost.
The Irishman took a long puff of his cigar and carried on.
Paddy proceeds to alternately sip one, then the other, then the third until they're gone. Then he rose, threw coins on the table, winked at the bar mistress, and left.
Meanwhile, I was leaning against the rails, my hands reaching out to the back of Ginnyâs throat, aiming for the clasp of her emerald-laden necklace. Figuring once the punchline was given, the laughing (if it was as funny as I hoped) would provide the perfect opportunity.
The Irishman continuesâŠ
The next Saturday evening Paddy walks in, hanging his cap, taking a seat, he walks again and orders three more pints.
The bartender brings them over, and says, "Sir, you don't have to order three pints at a time. I can keep an eye on one and when you get low, I'll bring you a fresh pint."
Paddy responds, "You don't understand. I just moved to wales and I have two brothers, one in Australia and one Canada. We made a vow to each other that every Saturday night we'd still drink together. So right now, me brothers are having three Guinness Stouts and we're drinking together.
The bartender thought that it was a wonderful tradition and said as much.
Both Ginny and Heather were now leaning back in their chairs. My fingers had been slowly working on pulling Ginnyâs necklace down lower on her back so it would dangle. Just then Heather put her arms behind her chair. Her bracelet danced with rippling sparks that just cried out to the thief in me to be taken.
So, as the Irishman took a sip of his drink, I moved my hands from Ginny, and moving down a stair reached for Heatherâs ruby bracelet. As the next part of the joke was told, I delicately worked at removing it.
Now, every week for several years Paddy came in and ordered three pints at a time.
Then one Saturday week he came in and ordered only two pints.
He solemnly drank them, rose. Put on his cap and went over to pay his tab.
The bartender, who had worriedly been watching, said to Paddy, "I know your tradition, and I'd just like to say that I'm sorry that one of your brothers died."
Paddy responded, âoh no, both my brothers are just fine Dontchay knows now.â
The Bartender, puzzled asked, âthen why only two beers now? laddie?â
But I never heard the answer, for as Paddy was still drinking his two beers, I had fiendishly slipped off Heatherâs glittering ruby bracelet from around her sleekly gloved wrist and had snuck off the staircase and was heading towards the back door.
Victims 3 Thief 1
I managed to slip past the table where my Aunt sat( mum was gone).
Behind me, I hear vigorous laughter and applause at the ending of the Irishmanâs joke.
I would have to ask later what it was.
Then, by the entrance to the dart room, I waited until everyone was watching a dart being thrown before walking past the room.
The dance floor was again packed. But I couldnât spy Micke, so I took a chance and scurried past.
I made it to the door, excitedly letting out my breath as I pulled it open and slipped through into the chilly night.
A couple was walking in the parking lot, so I ducked into a shadowy side alley and skirted around a fence. Kneeling, I peeked through the pickets.
I did not know the couple, but they obviously had been having a great time, though I wondered why they were leaving so soon. The lady was dressed in a blue taffeta gown with prickling rhinestone adornments. Her jewelry also prickled fire in the moonlit evening.
In my thiefâs eyes, I saw them being approached and held up. The lady is forced to hand over her jewels to a masked female thief. Not me though, the thief I was picturing had bigger boobs.
Of course, that would be something only I would find to be that amusing, and let out a giggle.
They both heard it and looked around as I slinked back into the shadows.
They shrugged it off and got inside the car.
I took my eyes off them and soon spotted Merrill and Heatherâs black sports car.
I rose.
Suddenly a male voice snarled sinisterly from behind me...
âWho let you out all dressed up looking like a mugger's dream?â
I let out a shriek as I jumped up and turned around.
Byrne stood there grinning.
I playfully pounded his shoulder, my heart thumping as I scolded him between breaths that gave off wisps of vapor into the cold night.
âByrne you rotter. Scared the Jesus out of me you did, and almost peed my undies. And how would that have looked I ask you?!â
Byrne held onto my shoulders and laughed.
âSorry, you looked so mischievous as I saw in the corner of my eye you sneaking out. I followed, then lost you until I heard the giggle. So tell me what you are up to now?â
I explained to him my game, that upon the thiefâs success, I had come out to write âgotchaâ on the car door.
âThen what were you gonna after that Ms. Cadence?â
âFollow Heather out when she left and give it back âŠ?â
Byrne looked thoughtfully at Merrickâs car.
âI have got a better idea. She wonât know who did it.â
He led me over to his auto. Goes to the back and pulls a long slender bar from what I call his cop box, in the trunk.
We go over to Merrickâs black sports car and Byrne, looking around first, uses the tool to lift the latch on the passenger side.
âNow lay her bracelet out on the seat.
I did so letting it curl up on the black leather, where it lay sparkling. Then I locked and shut the door.
With a smirk, Byrne reminded me not to forget what else I was going to do
I nodded and in the dirty side of the door, I traced the word âGotchaâ as Byrne went over to put back his tool.
Arm in arm, with a co-conspirator's air, we walked onto the sidewalk, making our way to the front of the pub and went back inside. Innocent as a sparrowâŠ
Another gent was getting up on the stage telling a story so we went and joined Ginny and Heather with an air of innocence as we began laughing along with them.
An old Irishman, Paddy, is about to go to his eternal reward. He looks at his grieving friend, Mike, and says, "Michael, I have one last request."
Ginnyâs necklace was still lifted and the backside hanging down. She hadnât noticed that fact. Nor had giggling Heather noticed her flashy bracelet was now missing.
"Anything, Paddy," Mike says. "What is it?"
"In me kitchen pantry lad, you'll find a bottle of whiskey from the year I was born. When they put me in the ground will you pour it over me grave as a final salute?"
"I will, Paddy," Mike says.
âThank you Michael, you have been a true and thoughtful lad.â
I nudged Byrne and pointed to my wrist. He looked over and saw that Heather had her hand on the table, with her other gloves hand over it. I was tingling with excitement over how my game had played out.
Byrne nudged me back and I shook my head in agreement. He was loving the fact that we had pulled it off. So like a man to take the whole credit now that he had contributed a wee bit to my game.
We both turned back to listen to the stories finish.
"But Paddy?â
Mike asks earnestly âŠ.
âWould you be minding if I be passing it through me kidneys first?"
The whole room erupted into laughter as the gent merrily raised his glass.
It was then announced that we were only ten minutes away from midnight and everyone should take their places.
I gasped inwardly. Blimey had not been keeping track of the time.
Byrne helped us out of our chairs, and we followed Ginny and Heather to where my brother was standing next to Merrick.
Lights soon dim as the countdown begins
10,9,8,
Everyone behind us is prancing around
7,6,5
We go around hugging. I lift my brother's satin handkerchief from his pocket as I hug him.
4,3,2
I hug Ginny
Wrapping the handkerchief around Ginnyâs throat as we hug. Feeling the clasp of her necklace. Oh so tempting.
Victims 4 Thief 1
Then 1 was called out at the stroke of midnight.
âHappy new years everybody!!!â
Lights flicker horns are honked, crackers exploded, and drinks were toasted.
As Ginny turns to hug my brother, I grab and hug Heather, seeing Merrick and Byrne hugging.
I then pull Bryne from his man crush on Merrick and hug him.
Then we spilt up to wish others a Happy New Years.
^^^^^^^^^
We party for another hour before Merrick and Heather say they must leave.
We say our goodbyes and as Byrne and I watch Heather being helped on with her wrap we smirk at each other knowing what she will be finding on her car seat. Love to be a fly on the wall for that.
The music was still playing. A series of slow dances now that the party was winding down.
As we dance, Byrne, looking over at Ginny, commented:
âDamn if Ginnyâs necklace isnât a corker. If Iâd been playing your game, I would have had a go for it, though I may have needed a bit of good luck to pull it off.â
I smirked and explained I had originally been attempting to lift it but had gone for the bracelet insteadâŠand that in his case luck may have been needed, but it would not have been good.â
Then, as we both were watching Ginny, with that lovely necklace just sparking away around her throat, I purred into his earâŠ
âSay the word, and Iâll get for you, my love.â
He shook his head noâŠ
âThe scary part is if I said yes you would do it.â
I giggled:
âAnd wear it until she noticed.â
Byrne smiled:
âYou will play nice here the rest of the party wonât you now?â
I nodded as a delighted thought crept into my head.
âSo if Ginny had been skulking outside would you have snuck up on her luv, maybe had her hand it over?â
âAnd have my arse thrown over the fence. No, think Iâll stick to the easily distracted ones who meltdown in my arms.â
âDream on mister.â I chide him happily.
^^^^^^^^^^^^
Early the next morning as the last of us were kicked out long after the party was officially over, Byrne bundled me into his car, knowing I was too wasted to drive my own self home. I sat there in a mute stupor, hornily replaying the evening's fun.
Suddenly Byrne spoke into the windshield.
âLetâs go to the playground.â
I perked up, for ideas like that usually came from me.
âYour drunk.â I teases
âWell, So are you Lass.â
âBut itâs too cold. Letâs go to your flat and play at burglarsâŠâ
Byrne, sensing my hot flashy feelings, nudged meâŠ
âI knew you would like to role-play since you were playing your games this evening.â
I poked him
âYou were the one to mention muggers. Steal my jewelry and strip me naked, is that whatâs in your head me lad?â
âSomething like that.â
âDo you have your cuffs?â
That perked him up royally.
âDo you want me to use them?â
I giggled with a burgeoned horny appetite.
âYes, laddie. On yourself. So you can do the thieving and stripping of my easily distracted person without using your hands.â
I do so enjoy it when one can score by making my Byrne speechless.
^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^
So I would like to think that in real life, once upon a time, there may have been an actual pickpocket attending an actors' award show after a party, with real jewellery being worn, that may have seen what I saw, made observations as I did. and lurked, and waited to take advantage of the situation once it developed.
As I did.
Food for thought
Fini
Mike Dunafon. An Irish drinking joke
If the Troll Gunners* are one of the jokes of fantasy warfare, the Troll Brawler is the fatal punchline. These are the troll forces at their purest and most effective.
With large muscular bodies able to absorb tremendous damage, and a healing factor able to regenerate that damage, platoons of Troll Brawlers can quickly and brutally bludgeon a bloody swath through enemy lines.
The only 'weapon' these huge creatures choose is shaped steel bands over their heavy leather gloves. 'Steel knuckles' if you will. With these, a punch from a Troll Brawler will crush a shield and the arm that holds it. A single blow can shatter the timbers that support enemy war machines. They can batter their way through the strongest castle gates.
And again, no matter how you injure them, other than burning them, they always get back up and come after you again. Because of their regeneration they're able to eschew armor, making them fast on the battlefield.
Fire is the only thing trolls fear and enemy forces have learned to use "Fire Squadrons" effectively in order to survive the onslaught of the feared Troll Brawlers.
đŸ Happy đ° Heroclix đŻ Friday! đ
__________________________
A year of the shows and performers of the Bijou Planks Theater.
* As seen in BP 2020 Day 185:
negative scanned::Yashica 635::Yashikor 80mm f3.5:: Kodak Ektacolor Pro :: Putrajaya ::
the lovely Liana
im listening to Extreme - Waiting For The Punchline
2023 A New Year's Eve Soliloquy
I was asked recently by a friend if I would ever be likely to teach someone what
he/she felt were my skills at pickpocketing.
Extremely flattering as the question was, I had never thought of what we do as a skill. Rather than just role play, or taking advantage of a friendâs condition ( like Pissed drunk, or compellingly overwhelmed emotionally) that makes them vulnerable.
We had a discussion over this with my brother and our group of friends, concluding that since non of us would ever try to do a lift on a stranger for keeps, the topic of this being an actual skill is pretty much mute.
That all being said, if there are professional pickpockets that are adept enough to actively lift jewelry from a victim, then either they are incredibly skilled, or just know how to spot an advantage brewing that would cook up into a victimâs concocting condition as described above.
For a clearer example of a concocting condition, let me relate my own experience this past New Yearâs Eve.
As is our habit, my friends and I celebrated New Year's Eve at our local âThe Poet & Peasant Pubâ.
I was on the decorations committee, so I was there to observe most of the guests coming in.
I was at the top of the stairs leading to the upper rooms, placing a party hat on Erik, the skull of the medieval poet who is the pubâs namesake. The macabrely grinning thing sits high on a ledge of the stairs overlooking the pub and its guests (peasants).
So I had a great vantage point to take an early drink and watch.
A friend(and he knows of whom I speak) had sorta challenged me to make a lift this evening. So it was with a thiefâs eye that I tried to look innocent as I watched the partiers coming in.
The pub proper is not large, but it has two larger first-floor rooms, one for dance, the other for dart competitions. Since we usually can expect a crowd of two hundred, all three areas come into play.
The upstairs rooms are old bedrooms used for various pub-related antics.
Now, Itâs not supposed to be a dressy affair at this party, but the guests, regulars, and visitors make it one.
The gents in suits, and tuxes, the ladyâs getting a second chance to show off by wearing an old gown or dress theyâve only worn once.
Rhinestones and pearls are the majority of jewels worn with splashy brilliance.
This year was no exception.
Once it was in full swing one would have thought it was an after-party at a actors' awards show.
Use that thought to picture in your mind a quick visual without me going into boring paragraphs of detail.
But for a brief idea, Iâll describe what my clique was wearingâŠ
Which, since it was one(or more)of us girls that became a victim that evening, it appears appropriate to do so.
So, In my role-play thief's mind I observed:
First off, myself.
I had on a smart ocean blue coloured satin dress with a below-knee length skirt and a slick solid top with a mock turtleneck collar. The sleeves flared out just below my elbows. I was wearing my gold necklace set with diamond Sapphire rhinestones with matching long earrings. Also being worn was my rhinestone cuff bracelet. The same one my brother once nicked from me at the very pub we were now partying at.
I also added two of my real cocktail rings to complete the glittery effect.
As far as the type of mark Iâd be for a thief? Well if being a twit came in degrees, and I was in my monthly period, I would be certified as a solid brown belt. If I was wearing real jewels, thieves would be able to have a field day lifting the bloody things, as did actually happen to me in a very similar situation as this evening. But it was not done by a real thief, just by an opportunist who took advantage of a victim who had been having herself a pisser.
But then, this is not that story.
My friend Byrne was wearing an old-fashioned black tux, black vest, black shirt, and blue bow tie, topped off by a black bowler. He had to work late at the Dyfed station that day and said he was wearing the suit he had on. So it was a pleasant surprise to see him dressed up, and I let him know it in no uncertain terms.
My brother was dapper in his tawny-colored herringbone vest suit, brown silk shirt, and gold satin necktie. A gold satin handkerchief stuck jauntily out from a vest pocket.
Ginny had again poured her lithe figure into the sleek satin Japanese-style Qipao sheath dress she had bought to wear in a play she acted in last spring. It was midnight black with a brite lime green inner lining and tight lime green Lycra pants. The only decoration on the elegant dress was a glittery silver rhinestone Dragon, with green slanted eyes and a red fiery tongue. It was embroidered crawling up one side of the dress, reaching around up towards her bosom.
Ginny was wearing a bib-style necklace of rhinestone emeralds with matching earrings.
The necklace she usually wore was still in a police evidence locker at Dyfed ( see my tea party story).
Her hair was held up on one side by a glittery clip. She wore no gloves, so her diamond rhinestone cuff bracelet lay on bare skin, as were the 3 cocktail rings she was wearing.
Ginny would be a tougher nut for thieves to crack. For she is logical to a fault and witty. She is also a black belt in Jiu-Jitsu.
But one really after her jewels, would just have to follow her around to see she is on the wee bit clumsy side. I immediately thought how useful a satin handkerchief could be if employed along the high, partially exposed neckline of her gown to acquire her necklace. And I happened to now know where to obtain one âŠ.
Two other two close friends (members of our role-playing troupe) also eventually showed up.
Merrick was dashing in a James Bond-styled black tux. The vest he wore had a gold and black calico silk pattern.
His Heather enticingly was wearing a very shiny black satin, slightly off shoulders gown with long white lace frills hanging down from the neckline and the gownâs puffy elbow-length sleeves.
Her jewellery was a ruby rhinestone necklace with matching earrings. Like Ginny, one side of her hair was pulled back and held by one of her real diamond chip hair clips. She wore black satin gloves, and around one wrist was the wide tennis bracelet Merrick had given her last Valentineâs Day. It was a beauty, two rows of diamonds and a centre row of round rock rubies. She also wore twin ruby cocktail rings.
Heather is a timid meek little thing who blushed easily and turn her head away whenever complimented(think of Actress Alison Pill ). Also, those black satin gloves of hers would hinder feelings of lifting from her skin.
Mum and Auntie were also in attendance.
Mum was wearing a shimmering dress of silvery metallic material. She was wearing a necklace of round diamond rhinestones, with matching earrings and bracelets. They were ones I first âborrowed â, sneaking them out of mumâs day jewel case and started wearing as my twin and I began first exploring our games of thievery.
Her personality and looks matched the actress Haley Mills. Her eyes getting delightfully large as she was surprised by something. It would be worth trying for her necklace just to witness that reaction.
Father was working the Dyfed station this evening, so my bodyguard-built uncle was the escort of both ladies.
Uncle(or the man from U.N.C.L.E . As I thought of him) was a rugby player in his youth and still had the physic for it. The tight tux he wore looked like it was bursting from the seams over his muscular build. But for all his looks he was a pussycat. Though a fierce darts competitor.
Auntie was very elegant in a long white silk dress with a red and green flowery print. She was wearing her gleaming set of pearls.
Our Aunt reminded me of the actress Janine Duvitski, in looks, and the way she was insecure, like Janineâs character in the Telly seriesâ Waiting for God.â She was a foil to far too many things in her life and would offer no challenge to a proper thief, which may be her saving grace.
Then there was our cousin Michelle(Micke)
She has come there with a group of her coworkers but divided her time with us.
Micke was enticingly wearing a very sleek, slick brown satin fully off-shoulder number that nicely outlined her petite figure as it poured along it down to her silver high heels.
Her Jewels were a sparkling collection that consisted of a wide V-shaped necklace that looked like a falling river of rhinestones, amazingly sparkling chandelier earnings, her favorite diamond-appearing bracelet, and several enticing rings.
But the real showpiece was the eye-grabbing broach she had pinned to the gown just at her waistband. It had a sparrow egg-sized diamond at its centre.
Now blonde Micke just wears her heart upon her sleeve. Just as gullible as her mum, she has fallen victim to many of our pranks. Micke was easy prey to a compliment or falling into a tight, searching hug.
And by now most of the rest of the crowd had entered.
I tapped Erickâs boney jaw open so the poor sod of a poet was grinning, then came down from my perch to begin mugging, er, mingling.
^^^^^^^^
And so the party rambled on, properly behaving like most pub-held New Yearâs Eve affairs.
I highly recommend going to one if you have never been.
Plenty to drink, and eat, games to play dancing to music( ours was live this year) camaraderie, storytelling and jokes, attempts to lite the cigar someone had stuck in Erikâs mouth, etc
Oh, And did I mention games?
Especially the one I was playing on my own, pretending to be a thief on the prowl.
I did miss one early opportunity on me mumâs necklace when I stood behind her in the snack line. She had literally backed into me and was reaching down to snag a small pork pie, exposing her throat and necklaces' clasp. But uncle was in front of her and turned to look as she asked him if he had one for himself.
Victims 1 Thief 0
But then as the night went by quickly and since Iâm not a real thief, I found myself having so much fun I almost forgot I was looking for a further lifting opportunity.
AlmostâŠ
End Acte 1
^^^^^^^^^^^^*
Acte 2
Almost forgot I had been dared to do a lift, that is until I had l came out of the loo around 11:00 and realized I was on my own.
For the first time that evening.
Everyone I had been with was split up into small groups now doing their own thing
I could either join in, watch, orâŠ.
And now I thought licking my freshly touched-up lips, time to do something on my own.
So like my pretend thief, I decided to have a walk around and seek an opportunity amongst my chosen potential victims.
Byrne, Merrick, Uncle, and my brother Craig were weâre still playing darts with another group of men. I had been watching before slipping away to freshen up.
Micke and one of her co-workers ( in green taffeta) were amongst a group dancing. I thought of cutting in as a possibility to make a score, for that glittering broach of hers was an enticing calling card.
I watched for a minute or so when suddenly an opening appeared that paved my way in. A man had cut in and was dancing with Mickeâs girlfriend. His back to Micke. I curled my fingers while licking my lips ready to plunge in and make a lift of a glittery broach.
I got no more than two steps in when the music stopped and the dancers headed off the floor in the opposite direction, including my Cousin.
I walked away, my heart pounding.
Victims 2 Thief 0
Our Mum and Auntie were sitting at a side table of the long mahogany bar, chatting away. Mum has an almost empty glass, so I surmised she may need to be making a trip to the ladies' room. I stored away that tidbit.
But there, in an opposite corner, underneath Erikâs perch, a makeshift stage was set up. With guests coming up to tell jokes and stories.
It was at one of the tables, chairs backed against the stairway, Ginny and Heather sat listening to an Irishman telling one of his drinking stories.
Both, in my thiefâs eye, were a royal treat to be observed. Two enticingly dressed and deliciously jeweled prospects, very distracted, sitting in a rather vulnerable location.
It was all far too tempting, and I felt an overwhelming urge to acquire a piece of jewellery and strted to excitedly tingle from deep within.
Ginnyâs necklace was beckoning with a flashy invitation. Heather's elegantly gloved hands with the inviting jewelry she wore, also called out to my inner thief with a fiery blazing hot lure.
^^^^^
The Irishman telling the joke was holding a long cigar as he started, his accent and mannerisms adding much embellishment to the story.
(Look up on Utube Mike Dunafon. An Irish drinking joke)
âIrishman Paddy O'Brien has moved to a small city in Wales. And as men are wonât to do, looks for a new local. He walks into the first pub he finds, and tells the bartender, "Give me three pints of Guinness."
The bartender obediently brings him three pintsâŠ..
As the story started I had circled over to the empty staircase and snuck up it till I was level with Heather and Ginnyâs chairs. Then I sat down.
I earlier decided that my game would be to lift a piece and make it outside to the victimâs car and write gotcha on it, for my thief to win, if I was caught or stopped by anyone, then I lost.
The Irishman took a long puff of his cigar and carried on.
Paddy proceeds to alternately sip one, then the other, then the third until they're gone. Then he rose, threw coins on the table, winked at the bar mistress, and left.
Meanwhile, I was leaning against the rails, my hands reaching out to the back of Ginnyâs throat, aiming for the clasp of her emerald-laden necklace. Figuring once the punchline was given, the laughing (if it was as funny as I hoped) would provide the perfect opportunity.
The Irishman continuesâŠ
The next Saturday evening Paddy walks in, hanging his cap, taking a seat, he walks again and orders three more pints.
The bartender brings them over, and says, "Sir, you don't have to order three pints at a time. I can keep an eye on one and when you get low, I'll bring you a fresh pint."
Paddy responds, "You don't understand. I just moved to wales and I have two brothers, one in Australia and one Canada. We made a vow to each other that every Saturday night we'd still drink together. So right now, me brothers are having three Guinness Stouts and we're drinking together.
The bartender thought that it was a wonderful tradition and said as much.
Both Ginny and Heather were now leaning back in their chairs. My fingers had been slowly working on pulling Ginnyâs necklace down lower on her back so it would dangle. Just then Heather put her arms behind her chair. Her bracelet danced with rippling sparks that just cried out to the thief in me to be taken.
So, as the Irishman took a sip of his drink, I moved my hands from Ginny, and moving down a stair reached for Heatherâs ruby bracelet. As the next part of the joke was told, I delicately worked at removing it.
Now, every week for several years Paddy came in and ordered three pints at a time.
Then one Saturday week he came in and ordered only two pints.
He solemnly drank them, rose. Put on his cap and went over to pay his tab.
The bartender, who had worriedly been watching, said to Paddy, "I know your tradition, and I'd just like to say that I'm sorry that one of your brothers died."
Paddy responded, âoh no, both my brothers are just fine Dontchay knows now.â
The Bartender, puzzled asked, âthen why only two beers now? laddie?â
But I never heard the answer, for as Paddy was still drinking his two beers, I had fiendishly slipped off Heatherâs glittering ruby bracelet from around her sleekly gloved wrist and had snuck off the staircase and was heading towards the back door.
Victims 3 Thief 1
I managed to slip past the table where my Aunt sat( mum was gone).
Behind me, I hear vigorous laughter and applause at the ending of the Irishmanâs joke.
I would have to ask later what it was.
Then, by the entrance to the dart room, I waited until everyone was watching a dart being thrown before walking past the room.
The dance floor was again packed. But I couldnât spy Micke, so I took a chance and scurried past.
I made it to the door, excitedly letting out my breath as I pulled it open and slipped through into the chilly night.
A couple was walking in the parking lot, so I ducked into a shadowy side alley and skirted around a fence. Kneeling, I peeked through the pickets.
I did not know the couple, but they obviously had been having a great time, though I wondered why they were leaving so soon. The lady was dressed in a blue taffeta gown with prickling rhinestone adornments. Her jewelry also prickled fire in the moonlit evening.
In my thiefâs eyes, I saw them being approached and held up. The lady is forced to hand over her jewels to a masked female thief. Not me though, the thief I was picturing had bigger boobs.
Of course, that would be something only I would find to be that amusing, and let out a giggle.
They both heard it and looked around as I slinked back into the shadows.
They shrugged it off and got inside the car.
I took my eyes off them and soon spotted Merrill and Heatherâs black sports car.
I rose.
Suddenly a male voice snarled sinisterly from behind me...
âWho let you out all dressed up looking like a mugger's dream?â
I let out a shriek as I jumped up and turned around.
Byrne stood there grinning.
I playfully pounded his shoulder, my heart thumping as I scolded him between breaths that gave off wisps of vapor into the cold night.
âByrne you rotter. Scared the Jesus out of me you did, and almost peed my undies. And how would that have looked I ask you?!â
Byrne held onto my shoulders and laughed.
âSorry, you looked so mischievous as I saw in the corner of my eye you sneaking out. I followed, then lost you until I heard the giggle. So tell me what you are up to now?â
I explained to him my game, that upon the thiefâs success, I had come out to write âgotchaâ on the car door.
âThen what were you gonna after that Ms. Cadence?â
âFollow Heather out when she left and give it back âŠ?â
Byrne looked thoughtfully at Merrickâs car.
âI have got a better idea. She wonât know who did it.â
He led me over to his auto. Goes to the back and pulls a long slender bar from what I call his cop box, in the trunk.
We go over to Merrickâs black sports car and Byrne, looking around first, uses the tool to lift the latch on the passenger side.
âNow lay her bracelet out on the seat.
I did so letting it curl up on the black leather, where it lay sparkling. Then I locked and shut the door.
With a smirk, Byrne reminded me not to forget what else I was going to do
I nodded and in the dirty side of the door, I traced the word âGotchaâ as Byrne went over to put back his tool.
Arm in arm, with a co-conspirator's air, we walked onto the sidewalk, making our way to the front of the pub and went back inside. Innocent as a sparrowâŠ
Another gent was getting up on the stage telling a story so we went and joined Ginny and Heather with an air of innocence as we began laughing along with them.
An old Irishman, Paddy, is about to go to his eternal reward. He looks at his grieving friend, Mike, and says, "Michael, I have one last request."
Ginnyâs necklace was still lifted and the backside hanging down. She hadnât noticed that fact. Nor had giggling Heather noticed her flashy bracelet was now missing.
"Anything, Paddy," Mike says. "What is it?"
"In me kitchen pantry lad, you'll find a bottle of whiskey from the year I was born. When they put me in the ground will you pour it over me grave as a final salute?"
"I will, Paddy," Mike says.
âThank you Michael, you have been a true and thoughtful lad.â
I nudged Byrne and pointed to my wrist. He looked over and saw that Heather had her hand on the table, with her other gloves hand over it. I was tingling with excitement over how my game had played out.
Byrne nudged me back and I shook my head in agreement. He was loving the fact that we had pulled it off. So like a man to take the whole credit now that he had contributed a wee bit to my game.
We both turned back to listen to the stories finish.
"But Paddy?â
Mike asks earnestly âŠ.
âWould you be minding if I be passing it through me kidneys first?"
The whole room erupted into laughter as the gent merrily raised his glass.
It was then announced that we were only ten minutes away from midnight and everyone should take their places.
I gasped inwardly. Blimey had not been keeping track of the time.
Byrne helped us out of our chairs, and we followed Ginny and Heather to where my brother was standing next to Merrick.
Lights soon dim as the countdown begins
10,9,8,
Everyone behind us is prancing around
7,6,5
We go around hugging. I lift my brother's satin handkerchief from his pocket as I hug him.
4,3,2
I hug Ginny
Wrapping the handkerchief around Ginnyâs throat as we hug. Feeling the clasp of her necklace. Oh so tempting.
Victims 4 Thief 1
Then 1 was called out at the stroke of midnight.
âHappy new years everybody!!!â
Lights flicker horns are honked, crackers exploded, and drinks were toasted.
As Ginny turns to hug my brother, I grab and hug Heather, seeing Merrick and Byrne hugging.
I then pull Bryne from his man crush on Merrick and hug him.
Then we spilt up to wish others a Happy New Years.
^^^^^^^^^
We party for another hour before Merrick and Heather say they must leave.
We say our goodbyes and as Byrne and I watch Heather being helped on with her wrap we smirk at each other knowing what she will be finding on her car seat. Love to be a fly on the wall for that.
The music was still playing. A series of slow dances now that the party was winding down.
As we dance, Byrne, looking over at Ginny, commented:
âDamn if Ginnyâs necklace isnât a corker. If Iâd been playing your game, I would have had a go for it, though I may have needed a bit of good luck to pull it off.â
I smirked and explained I had originally been attempting to lift it but had gone for the bracelet insteadâŠand that in his case luck may have been needed, but it would not have been good.â
Then, as we both were watching Ginny, with that lovely necklace just sparking away around her throat, I purred into his earâŠ
âSay the word, and Iâll get for you, my love.â
He shook his head noâŠ
âThe scary part is if I said yes you would do it.â
I giggled:
âAnd wear it until she noticed.â
Byrne smiled:
âYou will play nice here the rest of the party wonât you now?â
I nodded as a delighted thought crept into my head.
âSo if Ginny had been skulking outside would you have snuck up on her luv, maybe had her hand it over?â
âAnd have my arse thrown over the fence. No, think Iâll stick to the easily distracted ones who meltdown in my arms.â
âDream on mister.â I chide him happily.
^^^^^^^^^^^^
Early the next morning as the last of us were kicked out long after the party was officially over, Byrne bundled me into his car, knowing I was too wasted to drive my own self home. I sat there in a mute stupor, hornily replaying the evening's fun.
Suddenly Byrne spoke into the windshield.
âLetâs go to the playground.â
I perked up, for ideas like that usually came from me.
âYour drunk.â I teases
âWell, So are you Lass.â
âBut itâs too cold. Letâs go to your flat and play at burglarsâŠâ
Byrne, sensing my hot flashy feelings, nudged meâŠ
âI knew you would like to role-play since you were playing your games this evening.â
I poked him
âYou were the one to mention muggers. Steal my jewelry and strip me naked, is that whatâs in your head me lad?â
âSomething like that.â
âDo you have your cuffs?â
That perked him up royally.
âDo you want me to use them?â
I giggled with a burgeoned horny appetite.
âYes, laddie. On yourself. So you can do the thieving and stripping of my easily distracted person without using your hands.â
I do so enjoy it when one can score by making my Byrne speechless.
^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^
So I would like to think that in real life, once upon a time, there may have been an actual pickpocket attending an actors' award show after a party, with real jewellery being worn, that may have seen what I saw, made observations as I did. and lurked, and waited to take advantage of the situation once it developed.
As I did.
Food for thought
Fini
Mike Dunafon. An Irish drinking joke
several guys jumped out of a car, chased this guy through a parking lot and beat the tar out of him. I got the entire thing on video, police arrived immediately, and everyone around said the guy "got what he deserved." no idea what he did, but nobody had any sympathy for him at all. he refused an ambulance. this was probably been the single most Española thing I've ever seen: a town absolutely destroyed by drugs, poverty and cultural isolation. but the nail in its coffin has been its total financial and institutional destruction at the hands of one native american pueblo that's been leveraging racist, preferential land laws to carry out a centuries-old vendetta ...
if you've ever taken part in an empty, virtue-signaling land acknowledgment to feel smug and good about yourself, the absolute devastation and destruction of this town is what "Land Back" actually looks like in action. unpopular but patently true observation: tribes (in the organizational sense) are by and large terrible, oligarchic, nakedly racist institutions that do nothing but amass wealth through real estate loopholes, exploit (mostly poor, mostly uneducated) people via immensely profitable gambling operations, and sell gobs of tax-free junk food, cigarettes and alcohol to people with already precarious health. very little of the wealth these shadowy organizations generate trickles down to regular members of these tribes, who mostly live in ticky tacky tract homes and receive benefits primarily from the U.S. government. these tribes build no infrastructure for the benefit of anyone, including their own members: even the richest tribal lands by and large remain food desertsâand if they can build lavish casinos and fund draconian police forces, they could certainly stock decent supermarkets with healthy food. they hoard land that could otherwise be used productively, siphon water rights from farmers and cities alike, and are exclusive of everyone outside the small numbers of people with official memberships. just where on earth does all this wealth go?
poor Española. when I was a kid, it was a town with a tough reputation, but it was actually a pretty lovely place, surrounded by gorgeous landscapes. now, it's a warzone, a punchline, a pitstop for wealthy tourists traveling between santa fe and taos, and the sacrificial lamb in one dishonest campaign for fake justice masquerading as progress that will invariably enrich a few powerful people at the expense of absolutely everyone else.
and a little bonus trivia for any The Curse fans out there: this is the parking lot of the San Pedro Plaza strip mall where the fictional fancy jeans boutique and coffee shop are located.