Showing posts with label deception. Show all posts
Showing posts with label deception. Show all posts

Tuesday, July 13, 2010

Yellow Lady Bug*

Groovy exterior above, and funky interior below


I love playing Punch Buggy, and I feel that there should be room for creativity and embellishment as you play the game.

Here are some spontaneous creative moves that have been dismissed by friends that I believe should count:
  • if you spot a Volkswagen bug on TV, you should be able to punch the person who is cuddling next to you,
  • if you have a picture of a Volkswagen bug on your camera, during a a long drive you should be able to look at the picture on your viewer, punch the driver and yell, "Punch Buggy, [colour], no punch back", over and over again until they clue in as to where you are seeing a Volkswagen bug,
  • if you see a groovy Volkswagen bug, as the one in the picture above, you should be able to punch twice (hard!), and
  • if you are walking around with someone who claims, "I don't play that game," you should still be able to punch them if you see a Volkswagen bug and declare, "Well, you are playing now."
I am hoping that Zoom and David Scrimshaw, will give me their support on this matter, since they appear to be well informed players. So far, I have not been able to convince my trusted friend that my rules are valid.

*En français c'est une Coccinelle (a lady bug).

Saturday, April 24, 2010

Time Traveler Caught in 2010 Picture

Did you read about the time traveler caught in a 1940 picture?

Imagine my delight when I caught this time traveler in my 2010 picture.

Thursday, May 29, 2008

Great Glebe Garage Swindle

"How much for these three spools of thread?" I ask, slightly cupping the spools in my hand. I don't want him to see what he is giving up. I act relaxed, uncaring - as if I don't really want them.

"Twenty-five cents for all three," responds Burly Guy. Five O'clock Shadow Friend peeks into my semi-closed hand.

"Wow, those are vibrant colours," he comments.

I smile, I close my hand tightly around the hard wooden spools, pay Burly Guy his trente sous, and feel thrilled with my take.

"It's not the thread I'm after. It's the wooden spools." I reply.

Then, I quickly walk away, looking over my shoulder, worried that they will chase after me for the lost treasure.