(Cap’n John would like to issue a disclaimer here…in no way was he responsible for the decision the young lady (above) made in hiding her face. Further, no animals were harmed in any manner in the making of these images.)

Say cheese, everyone.

I have a close buddy that has graciously introduced my blog to several of his Facebook friends, who have, after reading my deathless prose, become big supporters.

I was speaking (on FB) with one of my ardent followers just the other day, and somehow the subject of my “photo/caption” posts came up, and I opined that I was afraid to do these columns sometimes, for fear I was boring the shit out of anyone who read one. Both this nice lady and another mutual friend/supporter assured me that, in their opinions, which of course are of the highest quality and reliability, my posts of captioning pictures that I find interesting or amusing are very funny and that I should continue producing same.

Yes, I paid them both 5 bucks. (Hey, come on, sometimes to have to prime the pump a little, okay?)

Anyway, for the first time in the lengthy history of the Welcome Aboard The R U Kidding blog (just over a month), I am dedicating this post to two of the nicest people with whom I have ever had the privilege to associate. Thanks, you guys, a bunch.

To Emma and Angel… 

Good place to start, wouldn’t you say? Love the monitor.

“…they shouted, play that funky music, white boy, play that funky music right…”

Twins, separated at birth? A mysterious stranger, moving quickly, silently through the rain-dampened streets of Prague? Two monks meet secretly in the cellar of a winery in the north of Toledo (Spain, not Ohio)? Is this another “odd” coincidence that sounds like a conspiracy cover-up? Can Li’l Petey save Susie and stop the runaway train before it crashes into the village? Does the Pope shit in the woods? These questions must be asked…(Oh, yeah, that’s Rod Taylor on the right in H.G. Wells’ “The Time Machine”…good movie. The other guy? No one knows.)

Gustav wasn’t aware that there was a local ordinance prohibiting the carrying of cows within the city limits…when he was confronted by the local police, he refused to cooperate.

Police negotiator, standing back 50 yards, through an electric bullhorn: “Sir, please put the cow on the ground and back away slowly with your hands in the air, your eyes crossed, your tees dotted and your nose to the grindstone.”

Gustav, shouting back: “NO! This is my cow, I’m never giving her up! Ours is a star-struck but ill-fated marriage, but she is mine, do you hear me, mine!”

Police: “Sir, it’s against the law to carry a cow in the city limits, we already told you this. We don’t want your cow, but you must put her down, otherwise we’ll have to arrest you.”

Gustav: “For what?”

Police: “Bovine-carrying.”

If convicted, Gustav could face up to 150 years in jail and/or a fine of no more than 50 gatrillion rupees or drachmas or douche-bags or whatever you call them.

That’s a shitload of E chords, lemme’ tell you.

Victorian-era version of “Thriller”…

Real version of “Thriller”…

The Flying Nun, and her ground crew, at their 50th year reunion…boy, a lot of beer was consumed and a lot of lies were told that night, lemme’ tell you.

I mean, really…

I don’t know, girls, but this might be just one more case of that old conundrum of what came first, the chicken or the egg?

Robot Guy, on left: “Your Majesty, I am the bearer of bad tidings…it has been announced; NASA chose Neil Armstrong to be the first person on the moon. They felt you were too, well, big across the chest for the spacesuit. I am so sorry.”

Queen Tartorus of Zatox, Supreme High Ruler of the Zircadian Belts and Mistress of the Altoids: “WHAT!?! They chose that nancy-boy over ME! Are you kidding? Shit. I am perfect for that role. R.G., call my agent, right now!”

Love and 35mm cameras,

Cap’n John


Yeah, wrong time of the year for tulips, but that notwithstanding, I really love that picture. I took that many moons ago, up in the wilds of Northern Illinois.

Photography is my knock-out thing…there’s something about freezing a moment in time, capturing a fleeting image in the onrush of our conscious reality, literally stopping time (and therefore totally screwing up Einstein’s E=mc2 thingie) to which I am so, so drawn.

Comments are welcome, as long as they agree with mine…this is no democracy, folks, sorry. (Kidding…see the name of the blog.)


Now I don’t want to sound cynical, but how the hell do you do THAT much damage with a car with a top speed of what? 19-1/2 MPH? I mean, did you get a good running start? Geez.

“No, Gilda, you cannot drive…you left your license in your other coat, remember?”

Well, a couple of things occurred to me upon first viewing this pic. A) that’s a great looking car; b) and I REALLY like the boots both these ladies are wearing; c) one can only hope for their sake that the photographer forced them to wear those unfortunate hats. Yark.

100 bucks says they’re watching “The Flying Nun”…

I have no idea what kind of car this is (and if anyone can tell me, I would be eternally grateful, and might even throw in a case of beer, you know, for the effort) but tell you one thing…it is absolutely gorgeous.

My Mom: “Do you think he’d be pissed if we shipped him to Atlanta?”

My Dad: “We don’t know anyone in Atlanta…”

My Mom: “Yeah…”

You know, if I were this dude, I’d be a little worried about what had happened to the first seven guys…

The resemblance to my ex-wife is uncanny…

I’d take my car in for a weekly tune-up if I could find a repair shop with mechanics that looked like this…

Try WD-40…

Whoa, serious “aawww”  moment…Mary Pickford and friends, from the 1921 movie, “Through the Back Door”. (If they had added a cat, they would have had a fourth for bridge.)

Well, loyal mates, that’s about much frivolity as I can stand for one evening, I am so out of here…thanks for joining me.

Okay, one last thing…if you’ve had or are having a stressful day, a shitty day, a fucked up day, then try this…click on the link below, and then sit back and listen to a very pretty, and very relaxing, tune by Chet Atkins called “Sunrise”…beautiful.

…or if you would rather…

Happy tomorrow, mateys.

Love and Photoshop,

Cap’n John



                                                   !!!! GO DODGERS !!!!

…and thank you for flying AirCapn…



As I am sure it has become readily obvious by now, I am a great fan and practitioner of the photographic arts…I am a very “visual” person (and I suspect I know part of the reason this is the case, but we’ll talk about that another time).

Photos are evocative, bringing out emotions and observations…here are some of mine. (Speaking of mine, that’s one of my fave shots I took when I was living in SoCal above.)


Is it possible for my nipples to get hard just looking at food? (By show of hands, how many of you were totally creeped out by that? And how many of you think it’s possible?)

Agnes was very concerned about Dr. Bloodworth’s experimental new program, where to effect a cure for ingrown toenails, a series of holes are drilled in the patient’s cranium, thus causing all the brain fluid to leak out. While the procedure didn’t exactly “cure” ingrown toenails, with your brain fluid leaking out on the floor, who cares about toenails?

Doesn’t it look like these two players looked up and had the same thought, all at the same time…”why is there a photographer on the field in front of second base taking pictures during a game”?

Many people believe that there exists a relationship between the size of a man’s hands and the length of his penis…I cannot validate that claim, but I will say this: if the above correlation were made between a man’s feet and his johnson, then this kid has to be hung like a Clydesdale. Geez.


…the film canister is probably a 55-gallon drum…

“Tommy, it’s time for bed.”

“SuperBot, go forward and destroy the Mom Unit.”

“Tommy, go to bed now, sweetie, or Mom will pull your gonads off and hang them from your earlobes like tiny earrings.”

“Night, Mom.”

“Night, dear.”

Rosie v1.2.5 (it took him five tries to get the nipples right, and yes, that is creepy).

Rosie v5.6.3 (below)…

…I think Rosie has a cute butt…

Gotta’ tell you, I was stumped on this one. Caption, anyone?

Oh I don’t even think so…


That’s all we time for today, boys and girls, but tune in again next week, when we’ll visit Robert “Stumpy” Bilstein, who will show us around his live piranha farm.

Ooohh, I’m so excited I think I peed myself a little.


Love and zoom lenses,

Cap’n John

                                                 !!!! GO DODGERS !!!!


I love photographs…my own, other photographers, amateurs “snapshots”, if it’s a picture of something, made by a human using a camera, I’m interested. I don’t like all that I see (unlike how I feel about women), but I always admire good work, well-performed. (That photo above is one of mine.)


And I suspect that I’m like a lot of folks when I say that photos, as well as being admirable, evoke thoughts and comments…so I thought I would share some of mine with you guys.

-I believe this picture to be very instructional…I’ve always wondered what kind of a gun to use when you’re “house-hunting”…

-Yeah, some times that sand really is too hot to walk on…

-Early Zeppelin…

-Penelope wasn’t happy when her new boyfriend, Sylvester, took up the French horn…they eventually went their separate ways. The cat was ambivalent towards the whole thing, as cats tend to be…


-…and her mother…

-The Dodgers, getting ready to play the Giants (you should see the balls)…

-Long-lost, early Trump family photo?

-Two things occurred to me upon seeing this pic for the first time…1) although the young lady is very attractive, she also bears what appears to be a more than coincidental and unfortunate resemblance to the llama; 2) she also appears to have, how can I say it delicately, a rather conspicuous figure (polite way of saying she has a nice rack). Men are such pigs (see pic immediately above this one).

-Go ahead, knock yourself out…(between the costume, that dress and the wallpaper, I’m surprised they didn’t experience some kind of cosmic event when they took this pic).

-Now if I’m a Native American, I’m a little upset at this whole “The Indians sold the island of Manhattan to the Dutch for 24 bucks worth of crap they could have gotten on HSN for $16.95”, with the STRONG insinuation being that the Delaware Indian tribe consisted of a bunch of total whack-jobs. Now me, I think the tribal leaders thought about it and decided, “hey, there’s almost 3000 miles of continent directly west of where we are, shit, let these assholes have the island, we’re out of here…neighborhood’s going to hell, anyway, all these Europeans moving in.” That the real estate on the island of what was to become, many years later, the center of the financial world was later evaluated as being worth 58 gatrillion dollars will be left unremarked upon.

-Early photo of Cap’n John enjoying a mid-morning smoke with his pet rooster, Bennett. (The more well-mannered of you will refrain from mentioning that Cap’n John looks like a little girl in this pic…or not.)

-Besides the obvious benefit of all the free food I can eat and of course, all the women who, swooning, slip their hotel room-key into my pocket, so overwhelmed with gratitude that I helped them out to their car with their groceries that they can’t WAIT to repay me (some of them even make me wear the Publix apron and high heels…and nothing else), being an employee of Publix Supermarkets has the added benefit, since we are purveyors of such lofty examples of responsible journalism as the “National Enquirer” and the “Globe”, among others similar, of being able to read these fine magazines from time to time, between all my important duties as a “Front Service Clerk”.

It was the Globe that reported this bit of news, re our 42nd President; according to the paper ( I was reading this waiting for the rest of a customer’s order to come down the chute), Bill Clinton, the pride of Arkansas, has contracted Alzheimers.

And all I could think was, but how would you know?

Love and flashbulbs,

Cap’n John

Post Script…The L.A. Dodgers SWEPT, SAAWEPT the hated Arizona DiamondBacks, 3 games to bupkis, proving once again that, occasionally, not often, but occasionally, there is justice in the universe.

Bring the broom, boys, the Dodgers are movin’ on to the 2017 NLCS…yes.

Post Post Script…They beat Zach Greinke last night…Greinke, you may remember, is an ex-Dodger, and boy, was that satisfying to watch or what?

Post Toasties……talk about a corn flake…