Going Terminal B

We are back at the airport, waiting to catch Disney’s Magical Express . . .

. . . We like kids, really we do, but in large quantities we like them best quiet and nearby, or noisy and very far away. What we don’t like much is noisy and nearby.

. . . I can’t understand why there are so many kids waiting to take the bus to Disney.

I can understand the look in most people’s eyes. . . They are trying to keep to their thoughts, clinging to their last shred of sanity as they nod and pretend they are listening to their noisy DNA offshoot yammer on about this or that thing.

They have mastered the technique of “passive” listening, meaning they are shutting out any active children voice within their listening range.

. . . I would gladly pay serious bucks, or does, to learn the technique.

Alas, I think it involves reproducing.

Instead, I will entertain myself by posting odd photos from the last few weeks; stuff that does not fit anywhere, but that I nonetheless find interesting.


I call this Ursa Paint. For them who are not painting various rooms in their home, and who don’t buy their paint from Home Depot, that is the underside of a lid to a Behr paint can.

I played around with it, but the basic pattern is dried paint, and the outline of the bear is stamped on the lid itself.


Another rendition from Woodmoor Water Well No. 18, this one involving three apps, with the last one adding a paper texture. Here are a few more of the other structure.



The last one is from Sketch Guru, and I like the simple, cartoon-like rendition. Similar treatment of past photos look like this . . .





Readers might find all this boring beyond belief, but remember I’m trying to shut out the high-pitched sound of excited little humans anxious to meet a giant rodent.

I persevere . . .

I am still in Florida, and I took the opportunity to capture strange sights.

20131129_125303_1OK, so not so strange . . . rocks and trees.

But how about this tree?



This tree is in the back yard of the people I am visiting. To me, it looks like a face.

These flowers are strange, but common in Disney.


These shrubs look strange to me . . .



Definitively strange . . .


Yes, we are at the resort, and I have to tell you . . . . the eating is very good.

Must go now . . . falling asleep.

 ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ o o o o o o ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

No Doodle on this post because it was composed on my Samsung Note II.


Note: if you are not reading this blog post at Disperser.Wordpress.com, know that it has been copied without permission, and likely is being used by someone with nefarious intention, like attracting you to a malware-infested website.  Could be they also torture small mammals.


Please, if you are considering bestowing me some recognition beyond commenting below, refrain from doing so.  I will decline nominations whereby one blogger bestows an award onto another blogger, or group of bloggers.   I appreciate the intent behind it, but I would much prefer a comment thanking me for turning you away from a life of crime, religion, or making you a better person in some other way.  That would actually mean something to me.

Should you still nominate me, I will strongly suspect you pulled my name at random, and that you are not, in fact, a reader of my blog.  If you wish to know more, please read below.

About awards: Blogger Awards          About “likes”:   Of “Likes”, Subscriptions, and Stuff

Note: to those who may click on “like”, or rate the post; if you do not personally hear from me, know that I am sincerely appreciative, and I thank you for noticing what I do.

. . .  my FP ward  . . . chieken shit.

About disperser

Odd guy with odd views living an odd life during odd times.
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4 Responses to Going Terminal B

  1. oneowner says:

    I have to say I am enjoying the photo manipulations you’ve been posting, especially the second and fifth today. I like kids too as long as they’re somebody else’s.


  2. AnnMarie says:

    I like each and every photos (and process) you included in this post so it’s difficult to choose a favorite . . . though the one of the palm tree and rocks really . . . um . . . rocks!


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