is an easy to use, index web page listing links to hundreds of my original photos. Clicking the link
will send you to a page of photos decorated by unique captioning that has been capturing the attention
of the entire WWW .
The MW Review of Books is where I issue eloquent and frank book reviews the everyday reader can comprehend and use as a factor as to whether to purchase the book or not. Go figure, a book reviewer you can believe.
Once I explained to him how dangerous it was to crawl down the middle of the street, a
good-sized Western Diamondback rattler, chooses to travel via the much safer sidewalk.
When talking to snakes one must use simple sentences always ending in 'sss', such as,
"The street-sss is-sss unsafe-sss."
Finally figured out why we see so many dead skunks in the road. This is because
they think their stink will stop a vehicle, so they stand in the middle of the
road tail-up, spraying away ... and get run over.
In the center of the picture you can see a toad sitting. To his left you can see
a toad shaped stone, which moments before was ... a living, breathing, hopping toad.
It is just amazing to see these creatures turn to stone. I've always wondered where
they disappear to. I'm calling Art Bell. Anybody know the country code for the Philippines?
See the truck on the left and the SUV on the right up further the highway? Well, in morning rush hour traffic
Mr.Wonderful tries to drive safely which means maintaining enough distance in front of my vehicle so that
I can stop without hitting it. So what did these two morons do earlier while I was headed southbound on
the I-17 freeway? The truck cut in front of me leaving about ten feet and the SUV swerved behind leaving about five feet, efficiently boxing me in while traffic merged, slowed from 70 mph to 50 mph and headed east on the 101. Idiots.
Here you can see the unexpected sight of a soft-skinned gecko type lizard. I don't know
how they survive as it is quite easy for us humans to reach down and pick them up, so
it must be even easier for the predators who feed on them.
After a bout of uncontrollable sneezing, this device erupted from my left nostril. All
I can figure out is that it must be an implant inserted by E.T.'s during one of my
encounters with them. I put it in a zip-lock bag, but by the time I arrived home, it
had dissolved into a puddle of blue goo.
Thanks to Cadillac by Bond I was able to identify this tarnished jewel as a
1960 Coupe de Ville. This was back in the days when a new Cadillac cost $6,000 and most owners paid in full for their purchase.
In Scottsdale, Arizona per gallon gasoline prices remain stubbornly high, but a least they haven't risen
drastically either. I read today in the Wall Street Journal that as far as petroleum
supplies go, in six months, worldwide, we will have no place to store it.
As my regular visitors know, I think photo-radar is both constitutionally illegal
and simply a means for cities to increase their tax take. While you probably didn't
think of it as a "tax" a traffic ticket is indeed a tax under a different name.
In any case, so many people are driving at such insane speeds and endangering
us few who don't drive Hummers, Escalades or three-ton, four-door Mercedes, I appreciate
photo-radar equipment's ability to slow these bastards down, albeit if just for
a block or two. I saw this one on Cactus Road in Scottsdale, Arizona just west of
It's just too bad that people who put on bumper stickers like this weren't around
during World War II, because tens of millions of lives could have been saved. Well, they
were around, but thank God they didn't have any influence on the Allies war effort. It
defies logic in today's world, where Islamofacists are flying commercial airliners into
skyscrapers, taking kids off school buses to murder them and blowing themselves up
in resorts, that anyone could believe peace is possible.
While on patrol the other night, I was startled by inhuman noises that sounded as
if dozens of sticks were being drug across the asphalt. Shortly before this monster,
probably created by inadvertent over-exposure to North Korean radiation,
devoured my Chevrolet Aveo, I was able to take this photo.
Yes, even your incredibly intelligent and incredibly right-wing Mr.Wonderful
gets called to jury duty. Having been called decades ago, I know I will never get
chosen to sit on a jury. That is because the lawyers choose only retired males over
the age of seventy and females, usually housewives first addicted to The Mike
Douglas Show, currently addicted to Oprah. I am also willing to bet, if I were
chosen for duty, that the person who would be facing my judgment would be yet
another Illegal Alien.
On Mr.Wonderful's birthday my sole gift was rainfall. In some places rain is a bad
thing. In the Sonoran Desert, where a mere seven to eight inches of it falls each year,
rain is a blesséd event. Here, we see a pilot-in-training (in Arizona from Europe)
running to meet his transport van.
As I was growing up Arizona it rained so rarely, that every time it rains now, I'm thrown into the
aft of my parent's car while it is speeding through the back roads of The Grand Canyon State. And, as a tiny lad, I am laying on the back shelf looking out through the long slanting rear window of the Studebaker Commander enjoying the rain where rain was not quite so rare.
So that my viewers would have an idea of how small he was, as I laid a quarter near him,
I cooed an ancient Apache lullaby to this infant Western Diamondback
I was not bitten, which was delightful, because contrary to appearances, this baby's bite is very likely to be deadly. That is because infant rattler's haven't developed the ability to conserve their venom
like their parents (and Hillary Clinton have) with the result that during a single one-half second
strike all of its poison is released, which is more than
enough to kill any target weighing less than two hundred pound. As a matter of fact I recently heard of
a young adult (who volunteers to collect and relocate these noisy and protected serpents) being bit by
a baby rattler. The result? Twelve bottles of anti-venom and a five day hospital stay.
I've been driving legally in the Phoenix (Arizona) area since 1967. That was back when the northern border of my hometown was generally accepted to be Bell Road, with any streets sprouting beyond there being the tan color of dirt. In 1967, the Valley of the Sun suffered a mere one-third of the population we have now. And without the family of every Tom, Dick, and Guerillmo owning three vehicles, traffic volume was far less than a third of today's 21st Century volume. What I'm getting at is that traffic has increased so much and that there are so many absolutely insane, selfish, and ignorant drivers, that where once I opposed radar, I now favor it.
Here, in a photo taken north of Phoenix, you can see a motorcycle-mounted Maricopa County Sheriff's Deputy shooting radar with a hand held unit. And, I'll bet you didn't know that Sheriff Joe had motorcycle mounted deputies either.