Here, finally, is the truth.

This is a picture of our lovely artist, Izzy Seltzer. One side, is from his long ago adolescence. The other is present day.

Can you guess which one is which? You got it right! The right is before, the left after!

It's pronounced EL-EE-PEE!

Just because there's an H in it doesn't make it sound like and F!

I mean really. . .

I am NOT an elephant! And so neither is my name!

Do you seriously think I bear ANY resemblance to some blubbering, sniffly pachyderm?

I'm GREEN, for chrissake! I've got a GOLD TOOTH. And please, don't even think to put my nose in comparison with a lumbering brute's TRUNK. My beautiful, dainty, slender nose, my precious baby! Oh, I will never let anyone touch you, hurt you, cut you off to spite the face. . .

That sun sure is hot!

Life's a beach, don't they say? We were just there, at life, or at a beach, whichever suits you best. This man sure doesn't look very happy to be at the beach. I wonder why?

...And we're back!

We loved you, we missed you, we cried for you while living out our summer dreams, and now here's a teeny posting just to tell you we're back in action and ready to go! Unfortunately, posts will still be slightly irregular due to the fact that summer is still going on and no one can really hold up to a rigid schedule with a season like that. But very soon, my friends, my comrades, very soon . . .

Duke de Petunia

UFFIZI HERE I COME

--IZZY

*Newsflash!*

Have you ever wondered what really lies inside a snail shell? I mean, it's so swirly, and how does the snail fit in? Is there a magical world inside? Well, that is the theory of quite a few distinguished (if not so bright) scientists. They, along with a band of foolhardy explorers, used special cutting edge technology to shrink themselves small enough to fit inside a magnificent abandoned specimen. But, upon entering the shell, they found themselves sucked in, with no possible way to find their way out. Many were delighted with all the new discovery opportunities their situation held, but others were sorely pissed that they wouldn't get their coffee in the mornings ever again.

The contest winners...

I (being Lola) commend you all for your amazing entries for the what am I contest. I thought they were all so amazing that I had Izzy choose, and he chose the wizardress. Congratulations to you, and I must say to everyone else who put out an entry, yours were amazing as well. I guess its just time to get competitive.

here is what Izzy has to say on the matter-

"It's very clear to me, as to which one of the three respondees won, way out in front of the other two:  the first one. This writer is subtly, inventively, not calling attention to his/her self.  The second is just too literal, no imagination being expressed.  The third is too wordy, too convoluted, and frankly way off the mark, especially in terms of gender."

So, wizardress, here's your prize: a custom print, specially made for you from izzy. just say what you want, be it your name, an image, or portrait, and it will be done. your wish is our command. (almost.)

until next time,

Lola

Princess Lylana

Historical Notes on our beauty here:  

After a hard period in her life she required a special kind of alchemy to pull her back together, but I think the alchemy treatment has curdled her highly touted physical beauty somewhat....and it's made her gain a great deal of weight.....not to mention her ocular di

sturbances..... actually, I didn't want to mention it,  but she descends from a long line of Anglo-Turko-Albanians on her father's side, going way back to before the fall of the Roman Empire.  that's why her real name  on her bankbook is Princess Schnurrg the thirteenth.

Sincerely,

Dr. Snub Gurni-Gurning, chief Plastic Surgeon, 33rd floor, Hospital for Special Recoverings.

The Pear Pair!

The winner of the contest is almost decided. In the meantime, there's a man who's been driving miles and miles to see you all, out of this very screen, with his very eyes. His name is Jim. or Joe. Well, actually, he isn't so sure, but that's quite all read, eh reassures me, it doesn't really matter. Do you see how happy he is? The secret to his happiness is the secret of life. Jim, or Joe, or whoever he is, found the secret out quite a few years ago, and has been has been as happy as sunflowers ever since. He tells me the secret of life, happiness, and wholeness, is to eat pickles. Loads of them. And, every friday (or tuesday, he isn't so sure) to dance on a horse. Absolutely true formula for the most happiness your tiny frame can hold. He says it's a lot of explanation, kids, but don't worry about it. Oh! His ears are calling him away, I'm sorry, I-- Where did he go? Oops, that must have been all the time he could spare. Very sorry, he didn't even say goodbye! Well, just smile and stamp your feet along with it. I bid you adieu, once more.

-Lola and Fizzy Izzy.

CONTEST!

entrants, please answer the question above. There will be a splendiferous prize, but only for the winner, and might I remind you, you CAN'T win if you don't enter. So, everyone, hurry hurry, try to get the best story, fast! please enter in the comments, thank you.

Just because we have so much...

...we are going to present an Uncle Wiggly Fest!

so sit back, and let the pictures do the talking.

* * * * *

* * * * *
* * * * *

Uncle Wiggly Continued..

This is your front-row ticket to the ongoing drama of Uncle Wiggily by Howard R. Garis, Lansing Campbell, Izzy Seltzer, and a cast of thousands in "Star Dreck 1921". 

 (if you don't know what that means, you're living on the wrong planet.)

those neighbors are terrible!

"Oh, really. I mean those neighbors, spoiling my view by building those horrible McMushrooms right in front of the ocean!" This is what Millie was thinking as she craned her neck to look behind her on her way to the beach (note her stylish 3,000 peso bathing suit).  "And what do they think those shingled spores are going to do for my property value? It just keeps getting lower and lower." Millie could feel her long, beautiful straight tail (her pride and joy) curl with disgust. And they were always having the most explicit parties, what with the rabbits everywhere and with everyone. Really, she couldn't stand this sort of inconsideration. Millie fumed as she stalked off to the beach. But she was comforted by all the things she was planning to do. The extra wing on her shoehouse was going to be added next week, and tomorrow night was the biggest bash of the year, and she was going to have to get a live DJ, maybe even one of the pheasants, over to blast the stereo. And she musn't forget to take out the trash. But the dump was so far away, maybe she would just dump it over by the side of the road. No one would notice. And anyways, even if those horrible obnoxious neighbors were to complain, they were the ones doing wrong! Millie was sure she was the nicest, most considerate neighbor on the whole drive...

Were you sad?

Yes, well I certainly was. but now I'm ever so happy, for I'm back! You're happy too, I just know it. Anyways, apologies apologies, for not posting in forever, but here I am! This here doodle is not technically a doodle, I know, but it was too good to pass up. It's from an ancient antique children's book called Uncle Wiggly, and pictures from it will be part of an ongoing series. (perhaps). Izzy did add the workers to the picture, though, we can give him credit for that, right? My favorite part of this picture are all the little bloomers you can catch glimpses of under the little animals' skirts. Oh how wonderfully old fashioned! Indeed, I have coincidentally just found a site that sells bloomers. Check it out. and also, more news! The banners are done, you two lucky misses (you know who I am talking about!) But unfortunately I cannot post pictures in the comments, so comment below and tell me if you'd like me to email them to you (in which case you would need to give me the email address, flightpretendment) or have me post the outrageously beautiful artwork on this outrageously beautiful blog!

best wishes, 

Lola

Time's up.

Brrring!!!!!

Yes indeedy, time for you, you, you, ALL of you, is up. The contest is now over, and since both of our entries are simply amazing, they will both win the prize: a beautiful banner with their name on it! Perfect for any blog, or just to keep for yourself. Jealous, huh?

Well, I guess you should have entered then! Next time, think about that.

So Flightpretendment and the Wizardress, your banners should be coming shortly and will hopefully be posted in the comments section!

sincerely,

(yes, your banner will look something like this)

The Pigeon's Lament

Hey. Wazzup. I'm Pidgee-poo, but you can just call me Pidge for short. I was bred an buttered in New York, the city of cities. Ah, the city that never sleeps. I have such great memories as a little chick, fluttering and hopping under the air-conditioner in a Very Prominent Building on Wall St. and later making my nest for my own chickadees from shredded bank notes flying from the windows. Ah, those were the days. But then old Madoff, and all those other evil human-folk, lied and the whole economy collapsed! It doesn't make much sense to a pigeon. But now there was nothing left to eat, to find in the tossings of gourmet restaurants! People were eating what even birds wouldn't. In fact, some were so desperate they were trying to eat us! It was getting too dangerous around here, so after one particularly close encounter, I took off, and now here I am, in the middle of some desert mountain in Arizona, all alone. But does anyone ever consider the pigeon's plight? No, they just call us pest, rats with wings, and scoff at us. *sniff* And after all that we've been through! Well! If it wasn't for us, you'd be even worse off than you are! And how do you repay us? Kick us and steal our food, our city. We were the ones that guided Columbus, that fool, over here. And now look where my kindness has gotten me! Well I never!

NOTE: THE CONTEST WILL CONTINUE IN THE COMMENTS SECTION BELOW FOR 3 MORE DAYS, THEN A WINNER WILL BE DECIDED....

Neo-Geo, say hello.

Here we have a rather arty scribble, done just for fun (like all the other ones aren't). We have no backstory, no plot, climax--ooh, the suspense!--and then a horrible ending. We don't even have a one liner or a non-sequitur. Just neo-geo here. So in the comments, give a story, of what or who this is, where, when why, how, etc. Who-ever has the best story, wins! We'll give you a scribble of your own, then. 

Phanny's Prehistoric Shoe-store. How may I help you?

"It is a riddle, wrapped in a mystery, inside an enigma; but perhaps there is a key"

enigma: a person or thing that is mysterious, puzzling, or difficult to understand. OR, a riddle or paradox.

The posts are to be stopping for 7 suns and moons for we are to be away in the beautious land of punta cana. Fare-the-well.

Title Quote: Winston Churchhill, making a radio broadcast about Russia in october 1939.

The Rare Kerplunker Stamp: every stamp collector's dream

You're in hot water, young man!

I mean, really. To have done such a thing to your sister! Got to your room and think about what you have done while I try to glue her ponytail back on! And you're grounded too! I just found out from the principal the horrible tricks you've been playing on your lovely old teacher, Mrs. Cantankerous! Think of all the money it's going to take to replace her dress and reupholster that chair! Yes, grounded grounded. That means no more after-school activities, either! I don't care if you have alien attack training class! And no, you can't go after school to visit Bongo the kinkajou! I don't care if he needs you to feed him honey! have another worm scout do it!....

Dr. Spot can see you now.

Actually, the Doctor is on Vacation until December 31st. His assistant Madam Rub-Out will handle all sickees. Anyone who has an emergency (i.e. has lost their spots) see the squiggle bird from the first page.

thanks! 

I am sorry for the delay of pictures, but at the moment blogger is malfunctioning and not allowing pictures in or to be posted, so, whenever!

Meet Betty Bedeviled...

As a child, Betty's Favorite thing to do was to shoot coke cans off a fence with her BB gun. As a grown-up, she became a professional specialist actor, and she specialized in clown fortune teller roles. That is why she wears a big starry bowtie and a styles her hair to look like a big lump of yarn. When asked, Betty told us that her expression was her patented "Mysterious- gypsy-yet-happy-clown look."

"The frog does not drink up the pond in which he lives. "

I was so angry at this frog because he would not let me scoop him out of my pool! He kept yelling at me in a sort of deep-throat " what will I do? where will I go? this is my home, I was born here!" And, you know what? He was right! So, as the sun set and the stars came out, I went into my house, had my dinner and then carried some leftovers out to my new tenant, and I was shocked! There were now one hundred frogs in my pool. What would you have done in my place, I ask you?

-American Indian Proverb, Sioux

jet-black, coal-black pitch-black, inky.

This is a picture of a rare black mouse in a closet at midnight. (Give your eyes a chance to adjust to the darkness.) It's eyes and nose glow in the dark! That way it can see where it's going and won't bump into it's tail.

Mmm-mm! I want this for breakfast, daddy!

A Very, Very, Rare Animal

(it's latin name is Glittzerus Shoous)

P.S. Izzy says "I should also mention it grows in spurts: Small, Medium, and Large."

:D 

CAT-A-TAT-TAT!

I, monsieur, am not just any cat. I am the Cat-a-tat-tat! known for my beguiling purrrsonality and ravishing blue eyes, but most of all, the bee-uuu-tiful pattern on my body. The exclamation marks bring out the nail polish on my fingers, non?

Dawg-gone it!

Ruff! Roof! RaRaRa! My name is Oliver Rufus Montegomery Haberdasher. How are you? Uh-oh, gotta go! Ruff, Roof and away....... 

Welcome all honeyfugglers!

The actual meaning of honeyfuggle is to deceive by flatter or sweet-talk; swindle or cheat.

But we are not cheaters nor swindlers! Nay, we are but common strange word lovers, and so we have derived from this word a new meaning: Exactly what it sounds like. We fuggle honey. (whatever that means, definitely not in a dirty sense.) This blog was created to showcase our T-A-L-E-N-T. If you read our other blogs, you will find a painter turned photographer and a weird little girl who likes words. We smush the two together and Lo! we get Nobody Is Home! Showing off Izzy's scribbles and Lola's writing (and maybe some of Lola's scribbles and Izzy's writing, too). So, enjoy! 

For starters: The illustrious squiggle-bird, it speaks for itself, loves itself, and does nothing but fly all day and night, showing itself off.

--Lola<3