Take a second glance at the title, though.
This is just between you and me. I don't expect these admissions to find their way to the World Wide Web, got it? ;)
...Begin a suspenseful mystery late at night. Really, I shouldn't. Particularly one that involves trading markets and international problems. Whoosh! <--Oh, that sound was just all of that flying straight over my head. Cramming my mind with such information leaves me awake half the night, my little brain trying to puzzle it all out.
To be perfectly honest, he did look just like a li'l Steve. Someone give me a pawprint here. I deserve it.
And just like that, in that fatal moment, its little life is snuffed out. For what was the hard work and time that it took to make it from the egg to caterpillar to cocoon to the moment when it lifted those beautiful wings and could finally fly?
I've got to stop right there. This is hurting my butterfly lovin' heart.
You didn't know I had an addiction to photographing newsboy caps? I do.
In any case, I fulfilled a lifelong dream and might do it again soon. Providing my subject doesn't chicken out again.
Clear granola bar wrappers. I can't stand them. What happened to the solid wrappers and whose crummy idea was it to change? I DON'T care that granola bars in the new wrapper are generally moister than they were when in the old. It doesn't matter.
What does matter is the fact that the granola bar industry decided to switch it up on me and make me anxious every time I stick my hand into the box and pull out a clear wrapper. It's disturbing.
Hmmm, this might be more than a mere aversion to change. This could be a phobia to it. Anyone got a name for that?
I really don't know how long I stood there trying to get these shots. It was awhile.
Joe is a turtle.
Hence your introduction to Joe.
My decision that most turtles are rude happened about two weeks ago. I was driving along when I suddenly stopped in the middle of the road to pick up and help a turtle that was slowly trudging across. I was striding with purpose and the feeling that I was doing a wonderful thing when it took one look at my face and shot off like a bottle-rocket. But not before giving me a turtle-y version of the stink eye.
Maybe he was having a bad day.
Maybe he was an old geezer who didn't welcome help from anyone.
Maybe my approach gave him that extra-incentive to fulfill his lifelong dream of pulling a Ninja Turtle stunt.
Maybe he just didn't want the chore of having to pull out the ole' Shell Sanitizer had my human hands touched him.
However, I was personally affronted and have since changed my belief that turtles are cute li'l misunderstood creatures.
My apologies, Joe.
And for the record, my hands were clean.