HOW TO MAKE MY PHOTO FUNNY : HOW TO MAKE

HOW TO MAKE MY PHOTO FUNNY : ONLINE PHOTO ALBUM FREE

How To Make My Photo Funny


how to make my photo funny
    how to
  • A how-to or a how to is an informal, often short, description of how to accomplish some specific task. A how-to is usually meant to help non-experts, may leave out details that are only important to experts, and may also be greatly simplified from an overall discussion of the topic.
  • Practical advice on a particular subject; that gives advice or instruction on a particular topic
  • Providing detailed and practical advice
  • (How To’s) Multi-Speed Animations
    funny
  • amusing: arousing or provoking laughter; "an amusing film with a steady stream of pranks and pratfalls"; "an amusing fellow"; "a comic hat"; "a comical look of surprise"; "funny stories that made everybody laugh"; "a very funny writer"; "it would have been laughable if it hadn't hurt so much"; "
  • funny story: an account of an amusing incident (usually with a punch line); "she told a funny story"; "she made a funny"
  • The comic strips in newspapers
  • curious: beyond or deviating from the usual or expected; "a curious hybrid accent"; "her speech has a funny twang"; "they have some funny ideas about war"; "had an odd name"; "the peculiar aromatic odor of cloves"; "something definitely queer about this town"; "what a rum fellow"; "singular
    make
  • The manufacturer or trade name of a particular product
  • The making of electrical contact
  • The structure or composition of something
  • brand: a recognizable kind; "there's a new brand of hero in the movies now"; "what make of car is that?"
  • give certain properties to something; "get someone mad"; "She made us look silly"; "He made a fool of himself at the meeting"; "Don't make this into a big deal"; "This invention will make you a millionaire"; "Make yourself clear"
  • engage in; "make love, not war"; "make an effort"; "do research"; "do nothing"; "make revolution"
how to make my photo funny - How to
How to Survive a Garden Gnome Attack: Defend Yourself When the Lawn Warriors Strike (And They Will)
How to Survive a Garden Gnome Attack: Defend Yourself When the Lawn Warriors Strike (And They Will)
Move over zombies and adolescent vampires.

There’s a new threat in town—and it’s only twelve inches tall. How to Survive a Garden Gnome Attack is the only comprehensive survival guide that will help you prevent, prepare for, and ward off an imminent home invasion by the common garden gnome. Once thought of as harmless yard decorations, evidence is mounting that these smiling lawn statues are poised and ready to wreck havoc. The danger is real. And it’s here.
Class 1 gnome-slayer and gnome defense expert Chuck Sambuchino has developed a proven system—Assess, Protect, Defend, Apply—for safeguarding property, possessions, and loved ones. Strategies include step-by-step instructions for gnome-proofing the average dwelling, recognizing and interpreting the signs of a gathering hoard, and—in the event that a secured perimeter is breached—confronting and combating the attackers at close range.

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My Angst (Yeah...that's what he called it...honest)
My Angst (Yeah...that's what he called it...honest)
Sheree and I are making a Martha's Vine book run to Montana this afternoon. So I wanted to get this up before we left. (I LOOOVE road trips!) *********************************************************************************************************** Larry Talbot, the man I have turned this flickr site over to, came to my house last night. Don’t ask me how I knew he was there. It may have been the slight electrical charge in the air – a certain increased intensity. But sure enough, when I crept to the window and peeked out through the blinds, there was a long black stretch limo pulled up in front of my house, rumbling softly, pulsing small regular puffs of exhaust into the air. We don’t get a lot of limos in this neighbourhood. But I knew from the licence plate, bearing the name “WOLFY”, that Talbot had come calling. Don’t ask me either how he knew I was peering out at him from inside my darkened house. He just knows this stuff. He’s always known things like this…even when we were kids together. I watched as the window rolled down and a hand emerged. I saw a flash of glittering cufflink and perfectly manicured fingers. The fingers gestured in a “come here” gesture…and I quietly slipped out of the house, closing the door softly behind me so as not to awaken Sheree. I was nearly at the limo when an impossibly tall bald man slid soundlessly from the driver’s seat. He wore all black. Black hat. Black shiny shoes. His eyes were fixed on me like glinting marbles. “Howdy,” I said. “You must be Olaf, Talbot’s minion…oops…I mean manservant. That’s what I meant. Y’know. ‘Manservant.’ Or…butler…if you prefer. Y’know. Whatever you prefer…like…y’know. Ummm…whatever.” I realized I was babbling but intense scrutiny from someone who scares the crap out of you will do that. Well…it does that to me anyway. Olaf said nothing. He simply continued to regard me with those flat glittering eyes. He opened the rear door and jerked once with his head. It wasn’t a request. I slid in, noticing the interior smelled not unpleasantly of jasmine and cigar smoke. I found myself sitting beside Larry Talbot. He’s an impressive looking guy. He held a black walking stick, crowned with snarling wolf head…painstakingly crafted from what looked like silver. “Hi, Larry,” I said, striving to keep my tone light. “Nice ride.” “Good evening, David,” he said. The guy has a baritone that really needs to be on the radio somewhere. His voice comes from deep in his chest. “How are we doing?” “That wart on my little toe is healing nicely…” I started. Larry silenced me with an upraised hand. “No. I asked you how WE are doing. How are WE doing with the articles I’ve given you?” “Great!” I said. “How many people have actually said something?” I pause. “You mean altogether?” He nodded. “Lessee,” I started and began counting on my fingers. “Walkin’ Man…and Kiki..and Alan, of course. Denise too…and…Aaron…and Photo Chick and well…ummm…lots of people.” “How many?” Talbot asked. “Like…altogether?” “Yes.” I saw his fingers twitch on the top of the cane. Irritated, I thought. Trying to look like I wasn’t doing it at all, I peeked out the window. Only a quarter moon. “John too,” I said. “Peggy, Dahil (but let’s not count him) and Izzy … Mirr … Monica….. frogolinwhazisIcanneverrememberhowhespellsit. Sylvia. Wink. And Genibell. A bunch of people.” “How many?” “This morning, the last time I checked?” Talbot nodded. “There were sixteen commenters,” I told him proudly. Something just slightly dangerous glinted in Talbot’s eye. “We got twenty yesterday,” I offered hopefully. Talbot was silent. “My genius…my writing…indeed my PHOTOGRAPH have drawn only sixteen people to oooooh and ahhhhhh in wonderment?” he said, his voice getting kinda thundery. “Well…no,” I said. “No one actually said ‘ooooh’ or ‘ahhhhh.’ They just kind of…commented. Y’know. Like people do.” I paused for a moment. “You gotta lighten up, Larry.” “My picture…my image…the soul of my art exposed to an indifferent world,” he started. “MY words…my photography….and only SIXTEEN people commented?” I could see him getting all wound up again. “Relax, Larry,” I said. “You can spend hours flickering…you can spend your whole freaking life on that site…or you can just throw some shit up and see what happens. Mostly you do it because…well…you feel like it. And because you like the people.” He was silent for a long while. When he spoke his voice was a soft growl. “I am going to have my Geneva labs develop a virus,” he began. “Every single person who comes and does not comment AND mark my work as a favorite? Ohhhh….my virus will track them down like the scurvy dogs they are...through cyberspace…and then it will invade their home computer it will rain down such destruction from on high…and they will know the price that will be exacted when they ignore my genius…” “Don’t do that,” I said. “Why?” I shrugged. “It’s not about numbers. Not really.” “Nonsense.” Talbot leaned close t
How fast you want to go?
How fast you want to go?
I am sure many will find this funny or even hilarious, but often times I have thought about the sad fact and truth of lives of millions of such people in Karachi and presumably elsewhere in Pakistan and then outside Pakistan as well. The time is around 6:30am when I was out to shoot sunrise and here I find almost every bus loaded with these people. Since most of the work is in my area and Karachi being such a huge metropolitan area with the biggest populated city status in Pakistan as well, most of these people must come out of their homes at early 5 or so. The "modern men" like me wake up at 10 or later and have wonderful reception of everything they go and work at their pleasure but most importantly go on living on our lives without giving a hoot about them. Oh, wait, the modern, liberal, wise and educated rich people also care. The intelligent and rich geeks like me create Website Bands containing messages of "End Poverty" or "Make Poverty History" which everyone else follows because people like me are popular and every one wants to do the same thing as popular people do and hey, it looks cool and modern and global too. So, yeah, they care. They know what goes around. The intelligent, moderate, cultured and rich people go to concerts and have drinks and spend some money on 100 such people. They go to concerts again and manage something like G8 or whatever and they create lots of hand-bands or whatever and they wear them. The original such bands then give rise to more stylish such bands wearing slogans such as "Friendship Forever", Love and so on. The modern, educated, liberal and wise rich men like me DO care. We shoot their pictures, we colorize them, we propagate their truck art works all over the world. The more enlightened liberal, wise, educated and caring rich people go to different places such as UK, Australia and Texas where they see such buses all colored and decorated as nicely as "these" buses look. Then some wise, rich and educated person decides to hold an exhibition too. These things get popular. Cricketers use them. Lots of people use them. They feel good and "Cultured" sitting in those buses in brave new world outside Pakistan. So, you see, the "caring man" of the modern society of rich ideas, greater intellect, deeper pockets, higher esteem and certainly better sense of global knowledge DOES a lot of things to "bring awareness" and "care" and such things in the world about these people. But what I am so ashamed to admit is that the lives of these people NEVER change. Why should any one ever give a damn to look into their lives. Deeper than the outer shell. That thick crust of mysteries, stillness and quietness in this fast-paced world, PL drenched corporations, surrounded by draconian media and liar governments with ugly agendas. No one shall ever look into their lives. No one shall ever know what goes around the world in which they breathe and live. No one shall ever act upon their grievances or shortcomings and the lives they could have adopted - as wise, intelligent, liberal and rich as ours. 'They could have been somebody, they could have had class and they could have been contenders instead of the bums that they are' (apologies to Budd Schulberg for using his words). This could be extremely flawed photography and so on but I am glad that the picture does show the stillness of the bus and everything else around moving (sort of paning technique I couldn't do properly I guess) which is quite on the contrary. The title is not addressed to these people shown in the picture but to the viewers. Because it's us who may be leaving them behind in hurry not other way round. Sorry if I wasted anyone's precious time. It's just a picture, afterall.

how to make my photo funny
how to make my photo funny
The Cartoon Guide to Sex
From the first eye contact to the therapist's couch, from the throes of ecstasy to the nitty-gritty of safer sex, from the world's sexiest animal to the dating jungle, The Cartoon Guide to Sex covers everything you've always wanted to know about sex. Frank, informative, and written with Larry Gonick's characteristic comic verve and scientific accuracy, this book gives a comprehensive discussion of the spectrum of human sexuality, including sexual structures and functions, gender roles and sexual identity, sexual arousal and response, sexual communication, love, marriage and other arrangements, contraception, and sexual health -- without the fig leaves.

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