The Plastic Spoon

OGC

You have got to love the British.  After all, they have given us plenty to laugh about; from Monty Python to Mr. Bean, their comic prowess has entertained those of us with "Bluecoats" for years.  It seems that those wacky Brits have unwittingly done it again.  The Office of Government Commerce (OGC) has been working on re-branding themselves (something that still blows my mind... the US Postal Service did this with Tax-payer money and sponsored a bicycle team--that would be another post).  Their efforts for reinventing culminated in a $28,000 (USD) logo (below)...

Now, being an artist myself, familiar with logo design and having a simplistic style, I can almost appreciate this logo.  I can certainly appreciate the fact that the designer made fairly decent amount of dough by simply pushing some letters together.  If this were a logo that my tax money had paid for I would be throwing tea in a bay somewhere on the east coast, but it is not.  So... why the post today?  Glad I asked.  This is no simple logo.  In fact, it is my deep hope (that Obama cannot even quench) that the artist intended for the logo to be turn 90 degrees clockwise. 

'Nough said... I love the British and their sense of humor!

How Bad Does That Smell?

You know what it's like when you wake up late for work, so late that you barely have enough time to wipe the sleep out of your eyes (let alone brush all of your teeth) before you stumble to your car trying not to spill your coffee as you fumble for your keys.  With the morning paper between your shoulder and chin, you set your coffee on the roof (knowing full well you're gonna forget it up there) and open the driver-side door.  That's when it happens... WHAT THE HELL IS THAT SMELL?  The smell is so strong that you feel like you've been kicked in the face by a Jackie Chan fart, and then it hits you... you remember... there they are, riding bitch on your rear bench seat.  Right where you set them last night, your leftover moo goo gai pan, fried rice, and won ton soup.

You know exactly what I am talking about.  The thought crosses your mind, did I seriously eat that last night?  And what the shit are my farts going to smell like today?  In my case, I cannot wait to secretly share those Bruce Lee Boost's with my most beloved co-workers.

When you consider how bad leftover Asian food smells and the residual effect it has on your local environment, imagine how bad it must smell on the other side of this video.  As you watch the video below, I want you to imagine that you are a tourist, and to save a couple of bucks you and your girlfriend decided to take public transportation.  Also, you used Priceline to negotiate your hotel cost (who wouldn't with William Shatner encouraging you to not be a Namby Pamby) so your hotel is on the outskirts of town.  So you and your babe get on the train at the first stop, with a destination 13 blocks away... with that scenario in mind, enjoy the video you are about to watch.

Let's assume that the smell of sweat and tempura farts don't kill you, how dangerous must that be?  I mean, the threat of having your eye poked out by a pointy sideburn is reason enough to wear safety glasses!

The good news is that once you get off the train, you can wash off and relax at one of Tokyo's finest water parks by going in the wave pool... Why is this water so warm?

I'm a Pervert with Almost 25 Years of Recovery

When I was in the 2nd grade, I already knew that I liked girls... a lot!  In fact, for the majority of my early years, it was the older girls (you know, the girls on the "big kids" playground) that I had my eye on.  The 3rd and 4th grade girls were cuter and had the ability to make me popular, and I WANTED TO IMPRESS THEM. 

One day, while standing in the lunch line for a Chalupa (a wonderful taco boat full of cheese, meat and grease), one of the older girls asked if she could see my Weiner.  What the hell is a boy to do?  I whipped it out and showed her.  In all of my 2nd grade glory, I showed her my pee-pee and she liked it.  Or so I thought.  That was the moment in my life I learned that laughter is not always a sign of elation.  She told her friends about the wonder she had seen and before you knew it I WAS POPULAR.  Every girl in the school had left there PB&J's to bare witness to the baby ground hog with no shadow to speak of.  Imagine if you will the sight of 15 girls circled around a little boy who is spinning around with his sprinkler hanging out (or at least exposed). 

It didn't take long for the other boys to cock block me (I can't believe I was able to actually use that term in a literal context!) and before I knew it I was sitting in the Principle's Office lying about what I had done.  After admitting to my very small infraction I was sent back to class with the instructions to tell my parents what I had done.  That was it.  No punishment from the school at all, and all my dad did was ask what sort of technique I had used to get a dozen girls to want to see it.

So why the long post about my early days as a flasher?

Because some idiots in Virginia have declared a 6-year old boy a Sex-Offender for slapping a fellow student (a girl) on the bottom during recess!  You have to follow this link and read for yourself how bad it has become in our Public School system. 

If a 6-year old boy can't slap a girl on the ass, then what the Hell are we paying GYM teachers for?