You talkin' to me? You talkin' to me? You talkin' to me? Then who the h*ll else are you talkin' to? You talkin' to me? Well I'm the only one here. Who the ____ do you think you're talking to?
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Taking photos of eyeballs....
so you don't have to.
About Me
- Mike Bailey
- I started taking pics in 2004. I use a Canon PowerShot A640. I live in Rome, GA. I'm married and have three children. Feel free to post a comment on my pics or commentary.
Eyeball Central is also about....
what eyeballs do.
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Reading: Living Justification
Author is my brainy friend, Jonathan Huggins
listening to nowadays: Lana del Rey
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Eyeballs AND Hands
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Some of my favorite art, one piece at a time
Shuttlecocks by Claes Oldenburg and Coosje van Bruggen
Eyeball Central
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13 comments:
Poor Robert De Niro.
It has come to this.
That is one angry chicken!!!!!!!!! I have never been so scared of a delicious food source in my life! I may have to rethink next Thursday's menu.
I am oddly drawn to this picture. And now I am worried about myself.
Wow! How did you get so close without getting pecked? Or did you get pecked? Or was it the camera that go pecked?
I love the caption by the way. Just perfect.
ST: No one respects the lowly chicken. Or so my wife points out. Muslims and Jews won't eat pork. Hindus are crazy for the cow. But anyone and everyone can eat the lowly chicken.
Poor Robert De Niro, indeed.
Timekeeper: Stare into the chicken's eye! DO IT!
Technoprairie: I'm glad you like it. That chicken was staring at me, true, but I staredright back. I am the master of that chicken.
So you're... one with the chicken?
The Chicken and I are one.
You need to start a poll to choose a name for him. Unless he has already been sold to the Colonel or a Cathy. In which case let's not.
The poll is a good idea.
The poll is only a good idea if spelled 'poul'. Get it? I hope so 'cause it was really funny.
poul. i get it. funny is a different matter, though. how 'bout kinda cute? or is that the ultimate insult?
That chicken is actually a "her" and is currently laying eggs to feed my household. She and her coopmates are enjoying the freedom of our yard, our woods, and our now plowed up garden before the cold sets in and she is coop-bound.
As a rule, only a couple of chickens are allowed to have names. It is just too hard for two boys to ship a named bird off to the butcher.
if i name her, i'll do so only in secret. or maybe in code.
"bobbi d" sounds good to me.
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