Skip to main content

Competition Time!


I stumbled across this image on whilst strolling on the Information Superhighway the other day and can’t decide whether it delights or repulses me. The notion of an aged Colonel Sanders personally hand feeding broads with bouffants is an interesting one, and I wish that I had more information regarding the circumstances behind this photograph.

Now, if you happen to recognise the foxy lady nibbling on the good Colonel’s juicy leg, or you know something about this whole state of affairs, I’d very much appreciate your contribution.

Moreover, I’d like launch a welcome all comers caption competition in the absence of an accurate analysis of the events above.

Your prize? Well, what prize could be greater than the enhanced self esteem that comes with trouncing the opposition in a meaningless game?

[I dunno, a holiday, car or something...]

If anyone can think of a prize that doesn't involve me, you know, having to post stuff in the mail or something, I'm open to suggestions. Maybe I could have a competition...

Comments

Unknown said…
I'm buffaloed. All I can think of is the line delivered by Robin Williams as Adrian Kronauer in Good Morning, Vietnam -- something about the uncanny resemblance between Colonel Sanders and Ho Chi Minh.
kylie said…
sending prizes in the mail is kinda fun actually, kris......
Kris McCracken said…
Kylie, it's the finding a prize that anyone wants that is the difficult part. Maybe I could relieve myself of unnecessary Christmas gifts?
USelaine said…
She's being spared the finger lickin' component of the exercise, which is kind of sad really. The Colonel used to tout that as a special attraction of the food.

My only caption thought involved the term "man meat", and I just couldn't put it together properly.
magiceye said…
thanks for the chuckle..
sorry cant help in sorting out your dilemma!
best wishes!!
Miles McClagan said…
If only you could find and give away a copy of the Vinyl album "A Very Colonel Christmas"...
kylie said…
leah does handknitted socks

do you knit?
Kris McCracken said…
Sheila, there is a blue movie in that scenario somewhere.
Kris McCracken said…
Kylie, I am as good at knitting as I am playing the flute. I will have to find something else to offer as a prize.

I am not sure that I have anything that anybody wants, sans too cute kiddies.
Kris McCracken said…
Elaine, man meat plus finger licking = a top night by ANYONE'S definition!
Kris McCracken said…
Magiceye, I understand that KFC does alright there in India, better than McDonald's, anyway!
Kris McCracken said…
Miles, is that the band that used to do the rounds of Hobart doing Britpop-influenced tunes?

The singer looked like an even gay-er version of the bloke from Placebo.

Popular posts from this blog

Ah, Joe, you never knew the whole of it...

I still have the robot on the job. Here you can see the Tasmanian Museum and Art Gallery . And here is a poem: Soliloquy for One Dead Bruce Dawe Ah, no, Joe, you never knew the whole of it, the whistling which is only the wind in the chimney's smoking belly, the footsteps on the muddy path that are always somebody else's. I think of your limbs down there, softly becoming mineral, the life of grasses, and the old love of you thrusts the tears up into my eyes, with the family aware and looking everywhere else. Sometimes when summer is over the land, when the heat quickens the deaf timbers, and birds are thick in the plumbs again, my heart sickens, Joe, calling for the water of your voice and the gone agony of your nearness. I try hard to forget, saying: If God wills, it must be so, because of His goodness, because- but the grasshopper memory leaps in the long thicket, knowing no ease. Ah, Joe, you never knew the whole of it... I like Bruce Dawe. He just my be my favourite Austral...

There was nothing left. No reason, no conscience, no understanding; even the most rudimentary sense of life or death, good or evil, right or wrong.

Here is a self portrait. I’m calling it Portrait of a lady in a dirty window . Shocking, isn’t it? However, it is apt! Samhain , Nos Galan Gaeaf , Hop-tu-Naa , All Saints , All Hallows , Hallowmas , Hallowe'en or HALLOWEEN . It’s Theme Thursday and we’re talking about the festivals traditionally held at the end of the harvest season. Huh? No wonder Australians have trouble with the concept of HALLOWEEN. For the record, in my thirty-two L O N G years on the planet, I can’t say I’ve ever seen ghosts ‘n goblins, trick ‘n treaters or Michael Myers stalking Tasmania’s streets at the end of October. [That said, I did once see a woman as pale as a ghost turning tricks that looked like Michael Myers in late November one time.] Despite the best efforts of Hollywood, sitcoms, and innumerable companies; it seems Australians are impervious to the [ahem] charms of a corporatized variant of a celebration of the end of the "lighter half" of the year and beginning of the "darke...

In dreams begin responsibilities.

A life at sea, that's for me, only I just don't have the BREAD. That's right, Theme Thursday yet again and I post a photo of a yacht dicking about in Bass Strait just off Wynyard. The problem is, I am yet again stuck at work, slogging away, because I knead need the dough . My understanding is that it is the dough that makes the BREAD. And it is the BREAD that buys the yacht. On my salary though, I will be lucky to have enough dough or BREAD for a half dozen dinner rolls. Happy Theme Thursday people, sorry for the rush.