Fifties Photoshop

Back in the fifties before they had photoshop they used to use paint. Not MSPaint, actual paint. Crazy huh? Still, it beats the alternative - a realistic depiction of female beauty in the media. That'd be terrible.

You hear that? Listen closely, the Geordie twang, heralding the end of society as we know it. Remember the Mayan prophecy about 2012, the end of the world? Well, look at this series about the north of England as the bell tolls.

No photo is safe, they've gone too far, targetting innocent civilian photos. These are not just photobombers they are professionals, ruining photo's at will. OH THE HUMANITY. Sign me up to the war on photobombers.

It's not always a sure thing that when you point a camera in someone's direction that they will oblige with a pose and a smile. But when it comes to cuties the chances of success go through the roof, smile or not!

If you had any hatches and this was the view out of your window, it would probably be a good time to batten them down. Not really sure what that means, but I'd have a go anyway. This is true apocalypse style weather!

Getting people to pose exactly how they were photographed decades before in the exact same location, wearing the same clothes aint exactly easy when you come to think of it! But on the interwebs anything is possible!

And they do look pretty happy in those loving embraces, don't they? There's even some inter-species love going on in this, it just goes to show we can all live in peace and harmony.

Where else can you get a job where you get to play with BFG's all day long & ride around in Humvees & helicopters & blow stuff up? Ok, so there might be a slight danger to your life, but think of the guns. The big honkin' guns!

It's that time again. Monday morning. Time for another of our patent pended diabolically delectable dumps. If you don't get at least 75% of your daily allowance of lolz from this we offer a full moneyback guarantee!

A random bunch of über-hot non-fishfaces that we can all agree are ball-achingly SUPER-HOT. Hotter than salsa dancing on the moon in an acrylic jumpsuit. Hotter than sitting on a barbecue dressed as Jabba the Hut. Etc.

It was a great party at the weekend (shame you don't remember it), wine, women & song flowed like it'd never end. Now there is the small problem about making it home, which sudddenly seems a looong way away, if you can still remember where it is?