tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-10510200610845713162024-03-19T01:36:52.331-07:00In the TypelineThis is about Gerda. Gerda and Karl. Oh, and Bruno.Keypadhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10942101083583380432noreply@blogger.comBlogger39125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1051020061084571316.post-35125275039460036492010-05-10T04:51:00.002-07:002010-05-14T12:04:52.809-07:00Pregnant with<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjHuGCC_KcLBuAMGC3Azm63ZjP_8ZfrdEdOFrFPlgbpcygHh0lPJqeJ46KAVcwSb5K4JfebpMHQFmCt_EQh8WHqPqQNV17z0Y7qvi4t_BWFr_eIYp9PgTJUcQK3-WBB3eq2FrWq0uRHsA/s1600/pregnantagain.jpg" style="text-decoration: none;"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 213px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjHuGCC_KcLBuAMGC3Azm63ZjP_8ZfrdEdOFrFPlgbpcygHh0lPJqeJ46KAVcwSb5K4JfebpMHQFmCt_EQh8WHqPqQNV17z0Y7qvi4t_BWFr_eIYp9PgTJUcQK3-WBB3eq2FrWq0uRHsA/s320/pregnantagain.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5469607855196954242" /></a>"Gerda, forget the details. Let's just say I'm pregnant, ok?" <div><br /></div><div><br /></div>Keypadhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10942101083583380432noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1051020061084571316.post-5801043837316840772010-05-10T04:48:00.000-07:002010-05-10T13:19:05.566-07:00Edward again<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhhhrxJ0b9eIeXdNNrMPxZtLq02OBX0AUGOy6TeJgsN7TxYUdOUr2P8MxWhLLCi5oj8vae4TMcUezh4QnmlwKi9nQBut_UufqkH0pzkRx-EKspMZVH7HUsVkOcx-Wpz_hWbYnrkMPCUNg/s1600/bearleaving.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 213px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhhhrxJ0b9eIeXdNNrMPxZtLq02OBX0AUGOy6TeJgsN7TxYUdOUr2P8MxWhLLCi5oj8vae4TMcUezh4QnmlwKi9nQBut_UufqkH0pzkRx-EKspMZVH7HUsVkOcx-Wpz_hWbYnrkMPCUNg/s320/bearleaving.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5469607101422391538" /></a>Edward would have loved to have made a real scene before leaving. But with his pink case, he felt a little shy. It just happend to be the only one that was big enough for his large collection of hot water bottles. And he wasn't going to part with any of them.Keypadhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10942101083583380432noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1051020061084571316.post-80566233902666701642010-05-09T00:46:00.000-07:002010-05-09T01:38:35.854-07:00Edward<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhrhS1N6ZMMBhz6jJOUO2SYcqlCrCihAspB6Fk-RtJbLHfMJkRdY3373uhi7t0Uvj8R6oeo3s6C-QBg6qSZr46__oJQz-xENy3KFTcPrLupVhxYo63xINyXwmcYE80HsGa9RKWw1OK0kA/s1600/sadbear.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 213px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhrhS1N6ZMMBhz6jJOUO2SYcqlCrCihAspB6Fk-RtJbLHfMJkRdY3373uhi7t0Uvj8R6oeo3s6C-QBg6qSZr46__oJQz-xENy3KFTcPrLupVhxYo63xINyXwmcYE80HsGa9RKWw1OK0kA/s320/sadbear.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5469173986165021538" /></a>"Oh dear", Edward sighed. "Oh dear". He liked the way the window clouded when he said that. He also thought "oh dear" was the right thing to say when one looked out the window. It's what his mum had always said, when she had looked out the window or at him. He had not realised until shortly that "dear" in this context was not necessarily meant in an affectionate way.<br /><div><br /></div><div><br /></div>Keypadhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10942101083583380432noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1051020061084571316.post-57390156237643848762010-05-05T01:51:00.000-07:002010-05-17T07:07:56.007-07:00Not funny<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgVq1HNIBzBDjFMJcszeQSQj_XkF_F1WkVmbgRVA3XXOCFVSXiQwB1fuPJZCnpEp0PE8jD1jhoYMYLVK7y5V_tbfsti6-WFnn0yBq_0qX0OgYDPyfYTpgSPc5n8TymyJPNZqGTVN_tHiw/s1600/Hanging.jpg" style="text-decoration: none;"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 213px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgVq1HNIBzBDjFMJcszeQSQj_XkF_F1WkVmbgRVA3XXOCFVSXiQwB1fuPJZCnpEp0PE8jD1jhoYMYLVK7y5V_tbfsti6-WFnn0yBq_0qX0OgYDPyfYTpgSPc5n8TymyJPNZqGTVN_tHiw/s320/Hanging.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5467706260609165490" /></a><div><br /></div><div>Paul tried to see the funny side, but he really needed to pee. </div>Keypadhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10942101083583380432noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1051020061084571316.post-33876094313470725352009-11-30T12:35:00.000-08:002009-11-30T12:39:38.066-08:00Little girls<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjoHA36sdR9SafxVMIteiFpj6nWBNwRqq8hlkps-x_lWRiysYEQn5GNvJjEddsvM3hYgQJerI52E7bI01_GwooVAM2CFZu1Xh-palaMfBiCKZYLtuP_aSJL6zqhxAmFxAVjuloNdheyVw/s1600/skull.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 213px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjoHA36sdR9SafxVMIteiFpj6nWBNwRqq8hlkps-x_lWRiysYEQn5GNvJjEddsvM3hYgQJerI52E7bI01_GwooVAM2CFZu1Xh-palaMfBiCKZYLtuP_aSJL6zqhxAmFxAVjuloNdheyVw/s320/skull.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5409998106183741682" /></a>Simon was called, when good little girls went bad. Then he had to hang around their pinky-bluey-flowery-sicky-bedrooms. And watch over them. It was a long-winded job and he could do with a cuppa.Keypadhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10942101083583380432noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1051020061084571316.post-26628151767103479222009-09-17T12:21:00.000-07:002009-11-30T12:53:21.595-08:00Star War<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjP-cOnc4jPnuZZejdJvdNnUh0pZsg-vAHG7jclQRf4oKNYck9tpRTE-OzMHn9CWSz_2a0VoUvaK-p510rRkNCWnmLIcFoRfldl2x9tHjrmedDttjrAV8HVO_k6uFdEE-TtqkGnxRB28g/s1600-h/maninthemoon.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 213px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjP-cOnc4jPnuZZejdJvdNnUh0pZsg-vAHG7jclQRf4oKNYck9tpRTE-OzMHn9CWSz_2a0VoUvaK-p510rRkNCWnmLIcFoRfldl2x9tHjrmedDttjrAV8HVO_k6uFdEE-TtqkGnxRB28g/s320/maninthemoon.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5382518927410761986" /></a>"My Star Machine has nothing to do with any sort of War Star", Lucy thought the man with the black mask was acting rather weird.Keypadhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10942101083583380432noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1051020061084571316.post-25785516854838859292009-09-17T12:05:00.000-07:002009-09-19T23:19:46.934-07:00Buster Ghost<div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 214px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj8N2MHAaRrnIISr4i2f9TqkXV63Vt1okurcbe6gtKa9cP9zjVYIO3Yg1bMGIkQ-frdFYwREHxb0rofv4tcb3RYYfri_HM1uhDWWvymmTdBhP2KYnTv77jURHCk-sMTGEXjaT8yMt4KLw/s320/frightend_ghost.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5382514850683901106" /><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 213px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhldh-9SRDU43E-05JwbThGwdNSO2DSfcUDM9oCs1dGUXoLhVoN2EV9Yl-tr_Zt3pFvVCbH5hV_TYAWgVyFoLzXWt6nt3IvHEN1VK1DArJbamqgn_moeAvzimjpvi7-9dGhJHF3GRcH3Q/s320/bruno_rollin.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5382516408669901810" />"I'm not scared, you just frightend me" Buster told Bruno. Though he either wasn't entirely sure what the difference was.<div> <div><br /></div></div>Keypadhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10942101083583380432noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1051020061084571316.post-42909642374759628122009-07-30T12:17:00.000-07:002009-08-05T11:32:17.934-07:00In this together<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgKeSejUmg-cbzpx_h3RcSYdu1jO0MwCISj6dts8wMIw6Fu20nl5px6lUJS2gNXWNw9MXDIqMpu6cKynNWjXoAVFu_Di3usCAWMo3dYjaBx9OiZCPrmDBerlTIvFbNHErWhwtX7sDVlyw/s1600-h/Inthistogether.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 213px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgKeSejUmg-cbzpx_h3RcSYdu1jO0MwCISj6dts8wMIw6Fu20nl5px6lUJS2gNXWNw9MXDIqMpu6cKynNWjXoAVFu_Di3usCAWMo3dYjaBx9OiZCPrmDBerlTIvFbNHErWhwtX7sDVlyw/s320/Inthistogether.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5364334652040970434" /></a>"What do you mean, <i>we are all just puppets in a grand play</i><we>?" In the given situation, Gerda thought Brunos comment was rather useless.</we>Keypadhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10942101083583380432noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1051020061084571316.post-34654511402803266842009-07-30T12:08:00.001-07:002009-07-30T22:28:03.138-07:00I'm not crying<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgHk_mWxrSC3B0JWKD28C34nQ_KhRthSf4OhDzs7xtV3fdeqHRwVusHGTuXiYH0zdeaqejnhFzpZIwhQFUiCHKr8CSiTBg6ceGnPRS4cCeHG0KcSOmiiTaEOkydgiFaX7yIL-lPQqnQKQ/s1600-h/teardrop.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 214px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgHk_mWxrSC3B0JWKD28C34nQ_KhRthSf4OhDzs7xtV3fdeqHRwVusHGTuXiYH0zdeaqejnhFzpZIwhQFUiCHKr8CSiTBg6ceGnPRS4cCeHG0KcSOmiiTaEOkydgiFaX7yIL-lPQqnQKQ/s320/teardrop.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5364332233265156834" /></a>"No", Herbert kept saying. "It's not a pimple. It's a scar." But they didn't believe him.Keypadhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10942101083583380432noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1051020061084571316.post-68030155106343596902009-07-26T01:37:00.000-07:002009-07-29T01:07:14.904-07:00Fancy<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhrFxZPo1w3SEJ_678DefRNWG5scDML0N9H57etAXndQMjeYTvVuAItLLswVsSoSwKai5SvTYCEvxiGKEyHD3aI9eNX0TXrYBSkCtsaVfJG6JjanDAzMrp37ETYMjHaPHyshJNd-Kc6YA/s1600-h/Pirateandbear_1.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5362685381601833506" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 213px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhrFxZPo1w3SEJ_678DefRNWG5scDML0N9H57etAXndQMjeYTvVuAItLLswVsSoSwKai5SvTYCEvxiGKEyHD3aI9eNX0TXrYBSkCtsaVfJG6JjanDAzMrp37ETYMjHaPHyshJNd-Kc6YA/s320/Pirateandbear_1.jpg" border="0" /></a>Rupert shuddered as he remembered Colins Fancy Dress Party. No one had told him the motto was "Animal Farm". He wouldn't have gone as a bloody teddy bear anyway. It was embarrassing enough to be on a photo with one.Keypadhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10942101083583380432noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1051020061084571316.post-35253130270896848652009-07-25T09:11:00.000-07:002009-07-25T09:27:31.686-07:00Gerdas travel diary IV<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjmWBhqEiKhMMV5FT7i8KGVTaWwp70jhtK3odsEOeKNY2_UDRVOEzBbYn74eKc8u9L0VnInq1UCsGyjXroguhsV2oFeL4FvhjGJFvBwHaatByK-nFVaxbFmag02W5uJf6TfKEnri49vqw/s1600-h/gerdaandthezebras.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 263px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjmWBhqEiKhMMV5FT7i8KGVTaWwp70jhtK3odsEOeKNY2_UDRVOEzBbYn74eKc8u9L0VnInq1UCsGyjXroguhsV2oFeL4FvhjGJFvBwHaatByK-nFVaxbFmag02W5uJf6TfKEnri49vqw/s320/gerdaandthezebras.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5362434294765777410" /></a>"Where did they have their patterns done?" Gerda wondered. "They do look rather masculine."Keypadhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10942101083583380432noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1051020061084571316.post-1724280860244448772009-07-09T14:05:00.000-07:002009-07-16T13:08:18.582-07:00On the back seat<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj7yw9bxlWtdNYGposddqqKiADk30lqyJJ-Bcy1A3uuQWkAWtqWKH1LHSdVdG7SZkxH9Im92nqf04Ztt1u-a-5moxpOCZ8P9YLsTjMeH3qTHTuX8V_i325O9kb43L5OXxUrIBxHn2k3cw/s1600-h/bearbackseat.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 213px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj7yw9bxlWtdNYGposddqqKiADk30lqyJJ-Bcy1A3uuQWkAWtqWKH1LHSdVdG7SZkxH9Im92nqf04Ztt1u-a-5moxpOCZ8P9YLsTjMeH3qTHTuX8V_i325O9kb43L5OXxUrIBxHn2k3cw/s320/bearbackseat.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5356569479584858274" /></a>"Oi", Bruno said. "How are you doing back there?" The way he said "back there" was sooo degrading. Gerda was getting pissed.Keypadhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10942101083583380432noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1051020061084571316.post-15816670663874487422009-07-09T14:02:00.000-07:002009-07-10T08:06:22.488-07:00Bad upbringing<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi2iLJNf14cA2DTp5telffjSkdeig_6EWpaq_U6yifd33uNVrjNbhA8qpAgSFLufNd_DG2VPVigA5rPuvtTqi9f87_elW8qKNS6HTPZRTowcq_wsIgoDLvKpSYTvmcSVmet7uIYOUilSg/s1600-h/duckfamily.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 213px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi2iLJNf14cA2DTp5telffjSkdeig_6EWpaq_U6yifd33uNVrjNbhA8qpAgSFLufNd_DG2VPVigA5rPuvtTqi9f87_elW8qKNS6HTPZRTowcq_wsIgoDLvKpSYTvmcSVmet7uIYOUilSg/s320/duckfamily.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5356568819521658674" /></a>"Oh, what have I done wrong?" Debbie was frustrated. She would have prefered gay children any day to these three non-swimmers. How was she going to explain this to the neighbours?Keypadhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10942101083583380432noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1051020061084571316.post-75208483697051623742009-07-06T01:38:00.000-07:002009-07-06T10:23:12.889-07:00On the Edge<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEizAJQBM-D4CEo6PxbkJxmgvb5wDJ8TgSgcM1DTu-jIT8WIBRFCVJH6B-bNFfJ3lao6RO6JtQeA1JOJ-a_h3sxbsWVyfF3cTKiH3e21rGB7OAyD5bSpM9dwxrUx-D-HrO-XbwYLrRnbeQ/s1600-h/DSC_9067.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 213px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEizAJQBM-D4CEo6PxbkJxmgvb5wDJ8TgSgcM1DTu-jIT8WIBRFCVJH6B-bNFfJ3lao6RO6JtQeA1JOJ-a_h3sxbsWVyfF3cTKiH3e21rGB7OAyD5bSpM9dwxrUx-D-HrO-XbwYLrRnbeQ/s320/DSC_9067.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5355263891478441074" /></a>As for Ernie, seeing his brother floating upside down, put him off water all together.Keypadhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10942101083583380432noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1051020061084571316.post-26163436047455736452009-07-05T08:26:00.000-07:002009-07-05T08:30:18.979-07:00Down Under<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhCzsaoYWGD_qakZT8xGhUUCuu1_5A4PFCDpHQied-hwOvkGm6rcc-yxHw8aSGcl-5sR0Ifnre0PUWBTWT1h0UVYzQBWUxf3_f1-WX4pbremJpwG6D_pUd7HWjR7SyOFohDjXI6dJPZCA/s1600-h/DSC_9064.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 213px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhCzsaoYWGD_qakZT8xGhUUCuu1_5A4PFCDpHQied-hwOvkGm6rcc-yxHw8aSGcl-5sR0Ifnre0PUWBTWT1h0UVYzQBWUxf3_f1-WX4pbremJpwG6D_pUd7HWjR7SyOFohDjXI6dJPZCA/s320/DSC_9064.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5354997816522615794" /></a>Hugh just couldn't clear his head. And breathing proved more and more difficult. "I'm not made for this", he thought,"being a duck."Keypadhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10942101083583380432noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1051020061084571316.post-52750233601856612122009-06-28T13:54:00.000-07:002009-06-28T14:00:39.971-07:00Five days later<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiWYAvVclbYL97fCTGZd-Z87NuAaQoo5jJ5kix7UxFj4QOD4Dvn4BI2_PHn3gkrOcPJgd_Td6bbTNcLBqJRDSya6AxQ8aGu12zznsHj6j-76A1oQAHOxB1YXCjJhPXCrxKWa6vcB8LXrA/s1600-h/DSC_9097_II.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 213px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiWYAvVclbYL97fCTGZd-Z87NuAaQoo5jJ5kix7UxFj4QOD4Dvn4BI2_PHn3gkrOcPJgd_Td6bbTNcLBqJRDSya6AxQ8aGu12zznsHj6j-76A1oQAHOxB1YXCjJhPXCrxKWa6vcB8LXrA/s320/DSC_9097_II.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5352484776386938322" /></a>"Jean-Jacques", he suddenly realised. "I'm Jean-Jacques. An englishman with a bloody frog name."Keypadhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10942101083583380432noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1051020061084571316.post-59523476530924824922009-06-23T00:01:00.000-07:002009-06-23T00:12:37.470-07:00Side effects<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjoU6kmMIdI9tc-m4l4x4_0z02dN3IZTFniQ8taAjuTEXA9nhrRu-CbqNzQt_nJkcMp8em-3jcp05jVHXLEDkWNXbWc3EMNkJ5f49TmG29zJRMt1sdkt1m8Thc07cjDuvszS1OUlhxQaw/s1600-h/DSC_9097.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 213px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjoU6kmMIdI9tc-m4l4x4_0z02dN3IZTFniQ8taAjuTEXA9nhrRu-CbqNzQt_nJkcMp8em-3jcp05jVHXLEDkWNXbWc3EMNkJ5f49TmG29zJRMt1sdkt1m8Thc07cjDuvszS1OUlhxQaw/s320/DSC_9097.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5350417411173519986" /></a><br />"Everything is so fucking green", the Zebra-thing thought. "Where am I? Where is all this leading to? And anyway - who am I?" He often enjoyed contemplating on those questions. But today he really wished he at least knew what his name was.Keypadhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10942101083583380432noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1051020061084571316.post-51595697165591502292009-06-19T10:07:00.000-07:002009-06-19T10:14:33.372-07:00Gerdas travel diary III<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgncABQUXeKTXr1w7tveY-50FuasvpLA5nJim_G2Jx3QLqpnwr8m7NOHeE_isMxi6N5dFStAUlejgsuQsYljDYSGvjY7SnxEDG3XLqBcXMfzz1G9YbWwM1jzq1OPLwQ1H7hPaDiK-g6zA/s1600-h/Gerdainthewater-pola.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 263px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgncABQUXeKTXr1w7tveY-50FuasvpLA5nJim_G2Jx3QLqpnwr8m7NOHeE_isMxi6N5dFStAUlejgsuQsYljDYSGvjY7SnxEDG3XLqBcXMfzz1G9YbWwM1jzq1OPLwQ1H7hPaDiK-g6zA/s320/Gerdainthewater-pola.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5349087557733080914" /></a>"Ooooh", thought Gerda on her snorkling outing. "I feel so light, everything is so silent and blurred. If only life was always like this."Keypadhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10942101083583380432noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1051020061084571316.post-92206094641966799082009-06-17T13:30:00.000-07:002009-06-17T13:36:16.164-07:00Gerdas travel diary II<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiORXfw5DRS8xaMgbK5Zl5SwCNiozjLtIpw7vQ3dEVsMe9PQW2Fy_ZTlvK91-IMu1jTMdIkOncwoNvjUCRRdMmOVhJAsKG478fuyerLp_Tp6r7dSjcd6LzTzE2QHS3eC3N2vr1EATHuLQ/s1600-h/gerdaandthesea-pola.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 263px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiORXfw5DRS8xaMgbK5Zl5SwCNiozjLtIpw7vQ3dEVsMe9PQW2Fy_ZTlvK91-IMu1jTMdIkOncwoNvjUCRRdMmOVhJAsKG478fuyerLp_Tp6r7dSjcd6LzTzE2QHS3eC3N2vr1EATHuLQ/s320/gerdaandthesea-pola.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5348396791873824754" /></a>"Maybe", Gerda thought, "I should have taken someone along to take the photos of me."Keypadhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10942101083583380432noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1051020061084571316.post-3348833173450370382009-06-14T02:01:00.000-07:002009-06-14T04:33:38.769-07:00Gerdas travel diary<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEinVfpD5PmB6b9kuPu_gKY2WC3tpaJSlB6NATIpJ_hRdn3Yoi2IDiLI83pdGXYNR9cBM0QzXgVctXED8DYtheaO8E2C8pExzWqV-rnxMAHmEGX5lbT_tntF96ePovZ-ePCVOOpulWDorg/s1600-h/gerda-pola1a.jpg" style="text-decoration: none;"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 263px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEinVfpD5PmB6b9kuPu_gKY2WC3tpaJSlB6NATIpJ_hRdn3Yoi2IDiLI83pdGXYNR9cBM0QzXgVctXED8DYtheaO8E2C8pExzWqV-rnxMAHmEGX5lbT_tntF96ePovZ-ePCVOOpulWDorg/s320/gerda-pola1a.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5347109634066142034" /></a>Gerda hatte den Selbstauslöser zu schnell programmiert, aber es war das einzige Foto, das ihr vom Besuch bei ihren Verwandten in Brüssel blieb. Und es hatte Fettflecken.<div><br /></div><div>Gerda hadn't quite worked out the self timer. But, alas, it was the only foto she had from the visit to her relatives in Brussels. And it had finger marks. </div>Keypadhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10942101083583380432noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1051020061084571316.post-24268166572774956062009-06-13T13:29:00.000-07:002009-06-14T04:32:00.209-07:00P.S.<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiKsoRCfkhk9_AJJqFxZEZBweVAampG0gIHeTxWCVFklSCPbTj9lb4BQ3KFpsB-EVxSZR79Qqvc4k2P1khOjG3nndOUpxNNM3Dm0mwte-X71LUYrP7Okt-EcIf4408AUMUnMjclq7GEHg/s1600-h/PS.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiKsoRCfkhk9_AJJqFxZEZBweVAampG0gIHeTxWCVFklSCPbTj9lb4BQ3KFpsB-EVxSZR79Qqvc4k2P1khOjG3nndOUpxNNM3Dm0mwte-X71LUYrP7Okt-EcIf4408AUMUnMjclq7GEHg/s320/PS.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5346912432623165154" /></a>"Wo sind denn nun all die anderen Pferde?" wunderte sich Gerda. "Bestimmt sind sie irgendwo da vorne."<div><br /></div><div>"What was all this talk about horse power? Not a single one in sight!" Gerda was disappointed. </div>Keypadhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10942101083583380432noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1051020061084571316.post-72164443826034660992009-06-10T11:04:00.001-07:002009-06-14T04:32:30.024-07:00In high heels<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhc7VrGNvByU-zrYzkDI0FrLUTo73hyphenhyphenlIZ5ZQLVXD8E_F_pqkihQLXQ8zlrfmD6IXkmuNcUOsk2jAX3ul8uBXUS3bkmAyhqf06bjO5z-7VMkbGbJgpPg_7r0d5WAZMCtYxF2lPS3IzKrA/s1600-h/Gerda_stuck.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 213px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhc7VrGNvByU-zrYzkDI0FrLUTo73hyphenhyphenlIZ5ZQLVXD8E_F_pqkihQLXQ8zlrfmD6IXkmuNcUOsk2jAX3ul8uBXUS3bkmAyhqf06bjO5z-7VMkbGbJgpPg_7r0d5WAZMCtYxF2lPS3IzKrA/s320/Gerda_stuck.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5345761537585005730" /></a>"Was meinst Du, wie bin ich hier rein gekommen?" fragte Gerda Bruno. "Wie kommen Frauen in ihre High Heels? Hä? Und jetzt hol mich hier raus."<div><br /></div><div>"I don't want to talk about it. Just get me out."</div>Keypadhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10942101083583380432noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1051020061084571316.post-89713376915714691782009-06-07T12:51:00.000-07:002009-06-07T14:29:54.017-07:00Two sisters, one photo<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiqNh-kldUejyYRnP7PxUifIYcZoF8SZfZYwy53myJgnhjmQQ5D_0ftIrPmUbQ8buleuBv2H-LBVjJiRaE4K5DxrRBTtCos2EWFQyz-_cHjuOSAAqywILmbxdeSwyLwDTnMKrD9G1Z2lw/s1600-h/ruth_twinkle.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 213px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiqNh-kldUejyYRnP7PxUifIYcZoF8SZfZYwy53myJgnhjmQQ5D_0ftIrPmUbQ8buleuBv2H-LBVjJiRaE4K5DxrRBTtCos2EWFQyz-_cHjuOSAAqywILmbxdeSwyLwDTnMKrD9G1Z2lw/s320/ruth_twinkle.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5344675811282483106" /></a><div>"What do you mean, I should look at the big picture?" Stefanie asked the photographer. <br /><div><br /></div></div>Keypadhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10942101083583380432noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1051020061084571316.post-20919169453564705592009-06-05T13:11:00.000-07:002009-06-09T07:36:33.501-07:00My mother says<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg2af5gFYq5TNW6MWo7r0bhUzd6cPVXMj5k18wBifHTxOwweW_s3EUpixkPIytq0usqpJ3ji_iXEOJ3U-5MaHPVgmGl18G3FM0o8jOpLqa-A5ptasawgioUVBZJaT54_HwAgZnoA3RloA/s1600-h/hangover.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 170px; height: 113px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg2af5gFYq5TNW6MWo7r0bhUzd6cPVXMj5k18wBifHTxOwweW_s3EUpixkPIytq0usqpJ3ji_iXEOJ3U-5MaHPVgmGl18G3FM0o8jOpLqa-A5ptasawgioUVBZJaT54_HwAgZnoA3RloA/s320/hangover.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5343938724245193634" /></a><div><div>"What had mother always said? Never mix drinks?" Edward had had tequila, martini, vodka and gin. But he hadn't mixed them. No. They had each been in a seperate glass with a cute little umbrella. Or two. <div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div></div></div>Keypadhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10942101083583380432noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1051020061084571316.post-14228001306327409032009-06-03T23:35:00.000-07:002009-06-03T23:43:38.625-07:00Kunos balloon<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjOSQG4JKD9hDekzmFBWF1WF1e4jBRJLGm-aaBhs6gCi0b08nUwISVtjv7Z7s993hd-hPCxSa3zVzkILixHdauZZP7w_WvIGkHLslRfNtkUljIGfb9Frn4-wWhEN84-wyW5x501N-rKpg/s1600-h/Anlehnen.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 213px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjOSQG4JKD9hDekzmFBWF1WF1e4jBRJLGm-aaBhs6gCi0b08nUwISVtjv7Z7s993hd-hPCxSa3zVzkILixHdauZZP7w_WvIGkHLslRfNtkUljIGfb9Frn4-wWhEN84-wyW5x501N-rKpg/s320/Anlehnen.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5343357586876380146" /></a>Franz wusste nicht genau, wie er das verstehen durfte. Kuno sass jetzt also schon sehr nahe. Also sagte er "soooo, ich sollte dann langsam". Doch Kuno lächelte bloss. <div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div>Kuno leaned over Franz and exclaimed: "Look, over there, a balloon!" And then he did'nt move back. Franz began to feel a little uncomfortable. Had he used his deo this morning? And why was he asking himself this. He wasn't gay, god forbid. </div>Keypadhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10942101083583380432noreply@blogger.com0