No, Really, I Work Here

It’s just that—well, this is kind of embarrassing—my uniform is at the cleaners.

Little accident with the ketchup dispenser, if you must know.

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There’s a cover charge at the door, and the password is ‘loin’.

Their fall from Hollywood elite was shocking and swift, but they did what was necessary to pay the bills. Given, their new gig is a little depressing, but at least they headline on Wednesdays as the male revue “Everything but the Oink”. It’s no summer blockbuster, but they make the best of it. Wilbur, Babe, and Piglet always do.

Prosciutto, Pancetta, and Sir Hammy reenact "Flashdance".

Erewhay areway ethay eglay armersway, Echo L.?

Exit Strategery

According to ham-tographer Laura-Elizabeth; “They pile themselves up in this warm cozy pouch and when they hear me coming to see them all tumble out at once. Ridiculous hams.”

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Sleepy Pouch by Laura-Elizabeth was suggested via Twitter by FourHams.

That’s Knot Funny

For today’s busy serial prankster, the most important skill to master is time management.  For example, tie your victim’s shoelaces together first; this will keep him engaged and distracted, giving you time to short-sheet his bed, fill the sugar bowl with salt, and hide his car keys.

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Check the sofa for whoopee cushions, Claire C.
Photo by Angelo Sotira.

Winston’s Annual Showering of love

Winston is perfect in every way, but occasionally needs a scrubbin’. Annually. Check out Winston’s bath time—he exhibits fewer cranky meows than usual, but satisfies with a lack-of-fluff-to-huge-eyes ratio.

Rich over at FourFour, you can wrap us up in a blankie eh-nee-time.

It holds cards, cash…plink-plink…and keys.

While useful, there was something slightly disturbing about her new fanny pack that Sheila couldn’t quite put her finger on.

You complete me.

Amelie B., it would be an honor to name him Hawkeye.

Greetings from Alternate Reality!

Weather very nice, except for Smurfsday, when it rained paper clips until purple o’clock… Went to the zooquarium and saw the polar sharks swimming in pea soup… Still can’t find a Starbucks anywhere…

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Flopsy, Mopsy, and Cottontail Don’t Have This Problem

Like I told James Lipton: On one foot, was it the role of a lifetime? Absolutely – I owe Beatrix a great deal. But on the other, I can really deal without the paparazzi.

Are you telling me that not only was I on TMZ, but they also identified me as a capybara named Mr. McGregor? Get my agent on the horn.

Be vehwy, vehwy quiet, Alex M.

Don’t make me say it

What should I title this post. Whaaaaaaat should I title it? I must think hard about a reference for this peckish pygmy. I can’t think of anything! If only I could reference a ridiculous, aggressive marble-munching game from my childhood!

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Via The Bobbeh Implosion who found this on a sweet lil’ Tumblog called You’re a Strange Animal.

Don’t Get Swell-Headed, But You’re Cute

Sender-inner Tiffiny R. proposes a new Rule of Cuteness™:  If your food is bigger than you are, it’s cute, which contradicts the earlier rule: Never eat anything bigger than your head and other drawings.  (We’re still not sure how the other drawings factor into it.)

Baby Squirrel Bottle-Fed