An observation

I've noticed something at work recently that I don't think I've seen before. When I'm in the bathroom, I see guys wash their hands after they use the facilities. But, if it's the end of the shift, I've noticed quite a few don't wash their hands after using the toilet. Even after taking a dump. (And who the hell waits until quitting time to take a dump? Don't they have a bathroom at home? But I digress.)

When in Rome

When you walk in the front door of Spacely Sprockets, the first thing you see are an American flag and a Virginia state flag. A few days ago while passing close to the Virginia flag I contemplated once again the strange image that appears in the middle. It's the Seal of Virginia, which shows a toga-clad woman standing over a prostrate man dressed sort of like a gladiator. What ancient Romans have to do with Virginia is anyone's guess, but it's an interesting image for two reasons. One, it has a dead guy, and, two, it's got a boob. Viginia may very well be the only state out of fifty with a dead guy or a boob on its flag. Truthfully, what I noticed that day when I walked past the flag was the boob. I don't think I'd ever really paid that much attention to it before because I was looking at the dead guy. Anyway, I made a helpful graphic.



Incidentally, the woman with the boob is the Roman goddess Virtus. And, again, what the hell any of this has to do with Virginia is anyone's guess.

What?

Yesterday at Spacely Sprockets, my supervisor told me to do some deburring. (Don't ask.) He picked up the strange-looking deburring tool and said, "I wasn't ready for you to cut yourself with this last week, but now I am." I nodded and then thought, "What, he wasn't ready for me to cut myself last week, but now he's ready for me to cut myself?" Anyway, I didn't cut myself.

My brain isn't what it used to be

Yesterday during lunch, I was sitting in the breakroom when a woman came through a nearby door. Out of the corner of my eye it looked as if she was holding a ventriloquist dummy. I quickly glanced up at her and saw she was actually holding a child. Now I ask you, what the hell's wrong with my brain that the first thing it thinks of is ventriloquist dummy rather than child when it sees someone walking by holding a small humanoid?

Tasteful

A few days ago I remembered something a classmate gave me when I was in elementary school. I thought I still had it tucked away in a box of old drawings, so I looked and found it. Yes, that's it below: a page from a notepad featuring a cartoon of an angry man coming in from what was presumably a very bad game of golf and punching his wife in the face as she tries to hand him a drink. Nothing says comedy like domestic violence.



I don't know quite what's more appalling about this image, that a company thought it was appropriate as a background for their notepads, or that the image is credited to "Kimberly-Clark". Is that this Kimberly-Clark? No, it can't be. Also, I don't think Byrd Business Forms, Inc. exists anymore since I couldn't find them in the Danville phone book.

The Internet's Leading Authority on Fake Coffee

Something weird happened while I was on blogging hiatus. For reasons that now escape me, back in May I wrote a post on Postum. Then in December, Kraft Foods discontinued Postum. And then somewhere along the line I became one of the internet's leading authorities on Postum. Anyway, I've added a very long addendum to the original entry.

WWJD?

Hey, it's time for a new post. Things have been deadly dull around here (except for the double murder that happened down the street a couple of days ago), so I haven't felt like posting anything. Nothing inspired me the way it used to. I was drifting along in a sea of goo. Actually, now that I think about it, a sea of goo would be interesting. Maybe. Gooey, anyway. But I digress.

In years past what I'd do when I was going to put up a new post was to simply poke around on the internet until I found something funny, weird, inexplicable, etc. that I wanted to share with the three of four people who actually read this blog. These days all I do is plod around online, but I rarely find anything that inspires me. That is until today. When I was scanning comments over at The Comics Curmudgeon (one of my daily reads), I found the ad below.



At first I naturally thought, "Ooh, nice rack." But then I noticed it was an ad for a Christian dating site. I don't get it. It's a Christian dating site, but yet they're appealing to the basest instincts of the straight male. How is this supposed to work? A guy sees the ad and thinks, "Damn, look at the rack on her." And then what? Is he supposed to wonder if she's a good Christian girl to start a wholesome family with? For crying out loud, she's standing sideways and wearing a flimsy camisole that would instantly be rendered transparent with a surprisingly small amount of water. (Not that I've spent a lot of time thinking about such a scenario. Really, I haven't.)

How is this ad different than one for Online Booty Call or whatever? Maybe they could rename the site Christian Booty Call. (I should buy that domain as an investment.) It's kind of like when hunters put out duck decoys. This ad gets you all excited about boobs and then when you least expect it you're blindsided by a schoolmarm with a bad perm who wants ten kids. By then it's too late. (And, yes, I know this has nothing at all to do with my duck hunting analogy.)

I had something profound to say about all of this, but I'm just too distracted by boobs to think clearly. Sorry.