Text and Image

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Apollinaire's mask with an excerpt from the poem The pretty red-head. Translated by Oliver Bernard.
 
Edinburgh zoo may have to face the inevitable and return the pandas to China. I think we can see a solution, and for a fraction of the annual cost of hiring those two.
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Considering the Job Description, I would wager the zoo would be inundated with applications:

Lazing about scratching oneself while staring into space.

If we were honest, that would suit the lifestyle of at least half of the country, while for the other half it is an ambition.
The same goes with the procreative element of the job.
If doing it in the anonymity of a panda costume while being viewed by any number of curious onlookers on a fun day out does not kick start the dwindling drive, my dear, I'm affraid nothing will. And don't forget one is being remunerated while "on the job." My one concern: they could be questioned to why they were ever on the Endangered Species List in the first place.
 
Waiting fo be taxied to the runway, tension mounting, I see the effigy of an evangelist preacher, looking every bit the president of a former Soviet bloc country, and I wonder who the target audience is?
My faith in technology falters once we break walking pace..
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They were tough, joe, but small enough to swallow whole. I've already lost part of a molar to a pork scratching.

This post will do little to revise sno's opinion. 😁

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"You were my brother, Charley, you should have looked out for me, so I didn't have to take the dive. I could have had class, I could have been somebody, instead of an egg, which is what I am. let's face it. It was you Charley..."
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Voodoo works (kinda)

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Drew effigies of intended victims. Hated effigies more than (intended) victims. Destroyed effigies saved people. Saved people weren't that bad.
 
Let's indulge ourselves in a little musical interlude...
...to diverge you from another cock up.
 
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Drew the effigies wearing full-length disposable ponchos, of the kind one might find at a music festival.
Something they wouldn't have worn, at an event they wouldn't have been seen dead at.
What a bastard I am.

A Sad Poem
A roll of bin liners.
A three pack of rubber gloves.
Disposable things
disposed of unused.

Cagoule
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Cagoules that fold into the breast pocket to form a bumbag are an essential item in the intrepid trainspotter's armoury.

Coming Soon...the Ouch Pouch©️ ...The last place a pickpocket would want to dip.
 
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