No pardons for MY Thanksgiving turkey! Yum!

It’s that time of year again.  When, for some reason nobody can remember, the President pardons a turkey.  The turkey is brought to the White House and told by the president that instead of going to slaughter he will be going to Disneyland to lead the Thanksgiving Day parade.  (To the turkey’s great disappointment – he just wanted to go back to the farm and eat food and poop and sex and stuff.  That’s what turkeys actually like to do.) 

The event is campy, but it’s cute in it’s own way, and fun for just about everybody….   Except for inmates on death row.  To them it’s really really offensive.  

 

 

Lessons I learned today

1 – Never let your dog roll around in a leaf pile.  Even if it’s really really cute.

Why?  Because it turns out there’s poop in that leaf pile.  That’s why your dog wants to roll in it.

2 – Dogs hate baths.  Even when they’re covered in poop.

Especially when they’re covered in poop.

 

A rambling post about… bathrooms

While on the topic of razors and bathrooms and such, I was recently traveling and noticed one of those emergency pull cord string things in a bathroom.  Actually, now that I have been looking, I see these things in most commercial-building bathrooms.  I have a hunch that there is nothing on the other end of those.  At the very least there is nothing on the end of those inside that building (I asked the front desk).  Is it possible that pulling the string connects to some external system – like Lifecall?  Let’s pause for a brief tribute to LifeCall:

This woman has fallen! Can she get up?

Anyhow, premise 1 is that there is no one on the other end of the string.  Premise 2 is: what kind of emergency technology is a string sticking out of a wall anyway?  Does it connect to a tin can on the other end so you can speak to someone?  This hunch is so strong that I can almost see myself testing it out.  But I’ll have to prepare just in case somebody shows up to help me.  That would be a true emergency. 

And now a sampling of the Google ads that came up while I was searching for how those cords work.  All of which are hilarious:

 

Finally, some good news!

Oh wait, nevermind.  That’s just a pack of razors.

I had no idea that the phrase "Good News!" was a registered trademark of Gillette. I suppose I'll have to stop throwing that one around...

 

Gripe gripe gripe. Screech bang crash.

Today I received a ticket for running a red light. How you ask?  Well, it was mailed pictures from a  streetlight camera.  I had no idea that those things existed in the US!  (I should also point out that the ticket was for turning left after a light had turned red – I stand by my decision on this one).   My options are to either be really really careful from now on, or think of it as an “expediency tax” for getting around at a reasonable pace in NYC.  I can’t say which I’m going to choose – lest it be used against me in a court of law – but if you want me to come over your house to talk about it I can be there in 5 minutes flat.  No matter where you are.

Why can’t we take a lesson from our parent country and put clear warning signs before the lights that have traffic cameras?

The hitch is that only people born before 1900 recognize this as a camera and know to slow down.

 

Huzzah. I win.

Dear Ben,

Hey – you read my blog!  While you’re here I’d like to remind  you that I won this year’s Summer Olympics, and you owe me a plaque.  It doesn’t have to be made of gold per-se, but something with a bit of flashiness to it might be nice.    Also, I don’t want it to be so big that it tears the wall of the apartment down, but anything up til that  point would be perfect.  Let me know if you need me to recommend a good plaque store or if you need help drafting the prose to describe my victory!

I look forward to falling in love with my plaque.  It will be the only thing in our home that truly understands me and how great I am at beating you at things.  One day, we might run off together… my glorious plaque and I.

Love you,

Joanna

 

For your viewing pleasure

Just in case you don’t spend your time watching dogs chase laser pointers:

 

Yeah. Get real.

So my haitus in August started not because of the wedding, but because I was blind.  An eye injury from my contact lenses left me without sight (or more importantly without blogging capacity) for 10 days.  Egads!  From this time I have some blind stories saved up, which are going to start coming out over the next few weeks.

When my vision came back it was a slow going.  During a train ride I saw (fuzzily) a sign that said:

Next is anal     ?  Get real.

And that was it, the entire poster.  Now, I’ll admit that there was probably some graffiti action there that my visual acuity was not strong enough to decipher. But I want to let that graffiti artist know that for semi-blind people it looked perfect!

Also, even if it that poster had been in tact it probably still would have been pretty silly.

 

Fun Facts

I was listening to BBC radio the other day and there was a story on about unidentified flying objects.  It turns out that the BBC calls them UFOs.  But as a word not an acronym.  It’s pronounced oofohs.   

Crazy.

 

What do Chingy, Elton John, and some new song I can’t remember all have in common? A hotel!

Remember that Chingy song “Holiday Inn”?  You know, it’s about the place where you should bring 4 of your friends because Chingy is there with some Hennessy and 12 other girls, so we’re just going to see what happens?

I fequently wonder how the Holiday Inn corporation feels about that song.  Seriously – I probably consider this question about once-a-month.  Is it good for business?  Bad for business?  Do they really hate having to deal with hotel parties?  At the very least I’m sure it was really fun for all the employees the first week after the song came out.  And then really annying for the following two years.  But I guess that’s how it was for all of us.

Unfortunately this doesn't get us any useful informaiton...