Funny Warning Signs

A While back I found this funny website. I decided to make a few of my own. These are images from a government website with my own captions. Enjoy.


In a pinch a phone can also be used as a first aid kit.



Remember that all electronic devices are programmed to display different times.



Wash your hands before using a phone. No one wants to use a gunked up phone.



Aerosol biohazards can only reach 1 foot. If encountered just walk away.

Because of their high quality materials, only name brand clothes will protect you. But you have to use three.

Cape Girardeau has the best Tic-Tac-Toe related injury hospital in Missouri.

The Swiss will molest you while you sleep.

Contaminated areas can be spotted easily by the red brackets that surround them.

In case of contamination, don’t panic. While you can’t reach a shelter it’s ok because contamination only occurs in sealed off areas.

Be wary of a red arrow. It may mislead you.

Casually walk by biohazards. If you don’t acknowledge them they won’t bother you.

Fish and birds will instinctively die on warning signs. Kick them aside to view the sign.

Red, Orange, and Green will let their powers combine to choke you.

Radiation, orange juice, and Kool-Aid are the three ingredients for a hurricane.

Do not set your house on fire. Nor should you purchase a burning house.

Terrorists define traditional families as a man, women, and 1 child. If your family is different you’re screwed.

You may become gigantic if exposed to radiation. If so be sure to focus on a career on Broadway.

In case of a fire use the fire exit. The elevator is sealed off anyway. Also, make sure there is a fire.

Don’t ever, EVER, use a door.

A small cloth will repel perfectly formed droplets.

Everyone has bad days. Don’t let it get you down.

If you are hurt look for faceless strangers walking around with Swiss brief cases.

If you are alarmed by the illegibility of a Biohazard warning, don’t worry, a fire will take care of that.

Elevators should not be used by anyone . . . ever.

If you come across a red arrow caught in a door, casually walk past.

Red arrows and polygons are natural enemies. Cower under your desk until the fight is over.

If you are standing in the middle of the street consider possible escape routes.

Orange arrows are friendly and will guide you to safety.

During a terrorist attack appliances have the tendency to gaze at you with indifference.

You’ll probably be fine if you stand on the threshold of less radiation.

If you see a series of red circles remember that they are radioactive.

Make sure you are well stocked with time bombs and radioactive materials.

The Good Ol' Days: Crotch Vents

Come with me to a by-gone era of 70 cents per gallon gas and 7 mpg vehicles. A place with shaggy sideburns and 8-track tape decks, and, maybe most importantly, cool, dry crotches. Spring and probably after that, Summer, will be upon us soon and for many that will only mean a sweaty, moist crotch. This anatomical tragedy is a direct result of the vanishing of crotch vents. If you've never had the pleasure allow me to explain. There was a time, not too long ago, when car manufactures included a small vent, usually under the steering column, whose only purpose seemed to be to blow air on the driver's crotch. Maybe it sounds a little ridiculous, maybe a little gross but let me tell you right now: it was heaven. You'd never have to worry about a dreaded case of SBS or embarrassing Fergie-esque crotch stains. Crotch vents eliminated uncomfortable driving conditions by at least 72%. So why the disappearance?

I can only imagine that because as cars became smaller, there was less and less room. Something had to go...the crotch vent paid the price. But was this sacrifice worth it in the long run? I can say absolutely that no, it was not. I get hot, I get moist, and I get angry. Why not a resurgence in the crotch vent? Why now, many years later, has the crotch vent not returned? Any other vent cannot be angled to perform the brave task of the once great but humble crotch vent.

I challenge automakers to take their bailout money and give the people what they want, nay, need and deserve: the crotch vent.

On Surgery

So I am getting a major surgery coming up here on Tuesday, November 25.  Yeah, that's right, directly before the the most Turkey-munchingest holiday of them all.  What of it?  

Some odd things happened in preparation for this surgery.  First of all, a little history.  The only "surgery" I have had in my life was having my wisdom teeth surgically removed.  Not exactly life-threatening.  SO I am a total newb in this arena.  Bring on the lions anyway.  

So a lady calls me to get some demographic information as part of my registration.  After getting the standard name, birthday, and social her first question was what religious affiliation I am.  I was a little confused at first but then immediately a light bulb went off and I totally got it.  

They ask you that question but it is what is implied, what they don't say, that is haunting.  They leave a part out.  The absent phrase is, "If you die and a religious representative is needed . . . ."  Of course they don't say that part because it would freak out masses of pre-surgery folk who'd then totally back out.  Docs and hospitals won't get paid, the health care industry would be turned on its ear.  Mass hysteria.   Any-who, I answered the question and went on with the rest of the survey.  Panic.

So that got me to thinking about dying on the table, which would totally suck.  So, hopefully, what I type here counts as my wishes...also, someone would have to see it.  I digress.  

If I die here's what I want to happen:

First the funeral.  In the ground, please.  Unless cremation is cheaper.  I care not what I am wearing.  I want Mazzy Star's "Into Dust" played at the funeral.  

All my stuff:  Goes to Addie and Jon.  My clothes can be donated to Goodwill or similar.  Addie can sell my car.  I still owe on it.  She can do whatever she wants with anything I have with a few exceptions.  My guitar cannot be sold or donated.  My books cannot be sold or donated.  

Eulogy:  

Who oh who to deliver a eulogy.  I immediately think of Ben Pruett.  Who else knows me well enough and won't be so overwhelmed by sorrow?  Ok, so Ben it is.  I'd like an equal balance of ethos, pathos, and logos.

Invite everyone:  Friends and family.  Exception: If I didn't know them, they are not invited.  That goes for like the younger generation's gfs or bfs.  

I bet I'll make it through just fine.  But just in case the above will cover the big stuff I think.

How morbid.

What some people don't seem to understand about politics

The election is over. Huzzah!

My guy won. Huzzah!

I've read some posts on various sites of people who are obviously ignorant on the process of American politics and protocol.

Hey, idiots, pay attention in civics class. here is a summary.

One user claimed that Obama has already gone back on his word to offer change. Hey, idiot, he doesn't take office until January.

Another user said that Obama is doing nothing to address Israel attacking or being attacked by whomever. Instead, this person stated, he's measuring the drapes. hey, idiot, HE DOESN"T TAKE OFFICE UNTIL JANUARY. Until then it is Bush's job still. Let's see how HE handles it. And if you're angry that nothing has been done yet it is the conservative Republican in the office now that hasn't acted.

Another user pessimistically says "we are so screwed." Hey, idiot, he doesn't take office until January.

By the way, there is no magic wand that comes with the office of the president. Just thought I'd throw that out there.

Another user says that democracy is over and socialism has begun in America. I wish it were true. Statements like this are clearly inaccurate. Obviously people making these statements have never learned what socialism really is.

Another user said that corrupt Chicago politics are going to ruin the country. This came from someone no where near the city or state. They cannot offer any examples.

Another user declared "Impeach Obama!" Obviously this person doesn't understand that impeach means to bring charges against. Since Obama doesn't take office until January he cannot be impeached for the office of the president. I guess this person wants a pre-emptive impeachment: how very republican.

Another user claims that Obama denounced the Constitution. hey, idiot, the wording and syntax of the Constitution is arranged as such so it limits not gives rights. But I've only studied the language and linguistics intensely for 6.5 years so what do I know.

Another user compared Obama to Jimmy Carter. Hey, idiot, this is a logical fallacy. If you don't know what that means look it up. More specifically it is called the false analogy with a little bit of ad hominem, straw man, burden of proof, etc, etc.

Another user said that it is the democrats who are making this about race. Hey, idiot, you brought it up.

Another user said that we are no going to turn into a third world country. Hey, idiot, go to a third world country some time and see what it really means.

Another user wanted to know where the line starts for free stuff. Hey, idiot, you're thinking more of communism (an idealized version) than socialism. Read a book.

Are all republicans idiots? Of course not. But the ones on this certain webpage were. If you're so convinced that the country is headed the wrong way with Obama, work for change instead of bitching about it on a website.

For those that claim they know history and are convinced this is the beginning of the end . . . if you know history so well then you should know that the balance of power goes back and forth every 2, 4, 6, 8 years.

Now stop arguing with each other and get on with your lives.

Chelsea: A Retrospective

Tomorrow is my big sister's birthday. She'll be 31 for those keeping track. If she told you different she's lying!

Here are a few things I remember about my sister in (roughly) chronological order.

1. She was born the same year Elvis died . . . some still blame her for his death.

2. When I was born 3 years later Chelsea was not happy and tried to convince our grandparents that I would be ok alone in the house while they left to go to a park.

3. We used to make play dough balls and dry them in the sun in a vain attempt to make our own bouncy balls. The results were less than desirable.

4. She had (has?) a collection of little bears: diminutive teddy bears. She kept them in a clear plastic comforter bag.

5. She used to paint my finger nails with sparkly blue polish...I then became Claw.

6. We had sock wars.

7. One word: Goozy. If you don't know, ask her about it.

8. We used to have twin mini bikes but Chelsea never took hers out of first gear.

9. Chelsea once wrote a nasty letter to a neighbor girl she didn't like. Parents got involved. There was some unpleasantness.

10. Once, when picking up or dropping off Chelsea for a date, I had to witness the good night kiss. Here's how it went down. They stood right in front of the garage of the boy's house. Mom and I waited in the car. They didn't even try to escape the headlights. Mom said, "Now we get to see Chelsea play tonsil hockey." They did. I haven't been right ever since.

11. Chelsea's first car was a Firenza...not the newer kind. The previous owners named it Fire.
The head eventually cracked and it had to go.

12. Chelsea's second car was a four cylinder mustang with a noisy fuel pump. She rolled it on 55 one winter.

13. Once Chelsea convinced me to put on one of her old one-piece bathing suits. I did. Hilarity ensued.

14. In a sibling fight one afternoon, Chelsea kicked me in the Jimmy.

15. Chelsea got married, squeezed out a puppy, and moved to the burbs.

16. Chelsea told me not to write about her in my blog.

There is probably a lot more but I can't remember everything. Certainly there is much more embarrassing stuff. If I remember anything juicy I'll be sure to add it!

Happy Birthday, Sis.

Why I Hate Halloween: A Wet Towel's Primer

It's that time of the year again. Yes Christmas music on the radio. Santas on store shelves. Toy manufacturers up their budgets 200% for the newest radio controlled, voice-activated, batteries not included, plush, limited edition, fun for all ages plastic piece of crap . . . wait, this is October, right? How is it that I have heard so much about Christmas and not boo about Thanksgiving which, unless it dropped out of the holiday line to use the crapper and didn't call place holdsies, is the next work-relieving bacchanal?

But this isn't about Christmas or Turkey Day (or tryptophan appreciation day as I like to call it). No this is about Halloween and why I hate it so very, very much. The following points are in no particular order of annoyance. They all erk me equally. Read carefully and add to the list via the comment option if you so desire.

1. Disappointing costumes.
Once upon a time I was a kid. Like many kids I enjoyed Halloween. What kid wouldn't (with the acception of those with early on-set diabetes of course, Mormons, Quakers, etc, and so on). I recall one year, way back in 1986, when I wanted to don my best black head band and be a ninja. I don't recall the circumstances of that year that lead to the following affect but by recess that day there were no less than 2 dozen ninjas who had taken over the wood balance beam section of the Progress South elementary school playground. I felt about as original as a xerox copy of a blank page. Not to mention that my ninja costume lacked the awesomeness of many of the other kids' costumes. Clearly the artists interpretation of ninja for my costume was lacking even a basic understanding of the ninja mythology. It may have been my mother but I can't be sure.

Another time I recall wanting to be a ghost, something my own son desires to be this year. This is an obviously cheap costume to create. White sheet + scissors = ghost costume. But my mother refused this standard method, time-tested and functional as it was. She vetoed the idea citing that I may suffocate under the sheet. I was then made a costume complete with a head hole to provide my living noggin ample breathing space. Of course ghosts did not have living heads, or heads at all for that matter, so I was less than authentic and looked as though my costume was supposed to be nothing more than barber shop patron, a title which, if appearing in a Hollywood movie, would be buried so deep in the credits no one would be left in the theatre to even see it.

2. Creativity is not rewarded as it should be.
Many years after the fabled ghost incident in the late 1980s I took it upon myself to create my own costume. This occurred only because I was talked into dressing up by a friend of mine who was for reasons unknown excited about the holiday. His mother then produced a box full of numerous masks and other Halloween paraphernalia and I began to pick through it. I could not decide between the rainbow afro wig and the executioner mask so I combined them. I called myself the "Afro-cutioner," which I thought was brilliant. No one else agreed and I sulked for the rest of the evening.

An a separate occasion, in college, I was invited to a Halloween party but did not have a costume or the means to purchase one. I decided at the last minute to cut eye holes in a paper bag and, if asked, I would reply that I was Elanor Roosevelt. Again, no one really got it and I went costumeless for the remainder of the evening.

3. Speaking of parties . . .
I was invited again to a Halloween party the following year. This time I went all out and crafted a costume that took hours to complete. I was a dead pimp. People got it. They weren't as amused as I hoped but it was looking pretty good for me that year. But the costume, clothes, makeup, ended up being way too hot and I did not enjoy myself.

4. Academics in a red county are not in to fun
At my last job I dressed for Halloween. I was the only professor who did so. I was Ash from Army of Darkness. It was clever, no, really. After one class that morning I quickly ran to the school bookstore and purchased a shirt and disassembled my costume. I went through the rest of the day pretending that it didn't happen.

5. My own kid: a new era
You'd think I would have a renewed love for the holiday as seen through the eyes of my son. But no. Walking around in the middle of the night, in the cold, dressed as someone I'm not, and asking strangers for candy does not appeal to me.

6. The Simpsons
The annual Treehouse of Horrors is a staple of the season. But over the past seven years or so it has aired after Halloween. Lame.

7. Haunted Houses suck
They are a waste of money. If you want to be scared this holiday season watch the DOW for a day.

8. Pranks
At some point, it isn't always clear when, the pranker becomes the prankee. The "give us candy or die" mentality keeps us at the mercy of the young...those cheeky bastards.

9. Tooth decay

10. The slippery slope
Halloween's arrival signals the all-clear for the Christmas season free fore all that will inevitably consume the remainder of the year...even though it is two months away.

Perhaps that is it but reason enough for me to hate Halloween. I have a co-worker who loves Halloween. We don't get along. My favorite holiday remains the 4th for many of the reasons cited by my own father. You get off of work, you don't have to buy presents, and you can have a good time. All the things Independence should be.

There's a costume contest at work this week. I have been thinking about being a giant emtpy toilet paper roll. But I've been hurt in the past so I guess I'll stay on the sidelines.

Having a kid makes avoiding Halloween impossible for me. I am trapped for years to come. This year the boy wants to be a ghost and you can bet that he won't have to suffer the embarrassment of a barber shop patron head hole.

Why I'm Thankful for Tom Cruise and to a lessor extent Val Kilmer

Like a good portion of Americans, how many I couldn't say nor would I want to venture a guess or guesstimate or any other measuring verbiage, I have been sorta keeping an eye on this election thing that's about to go down in November.  In the mean time we get the obligatory pre-fight trash talk, like this November will be promoted by Don King (no relation to my doctor).  

So if you've been paying attention Obama is apparently a terrorist sympathizer and McCain is a mummy Karl Rove raised from the dead while on an expedition in Egypt.  Somehow Sarah Palin was caught up in the mess.  Apparently someone thought she was a politician.  And then we have Joe Biden, the man with the creepiest grin in Washington.  But I don't want to pick on Joey B too much since he is having some family troubles right now.

I always used campaign ads as an example of pathos (appealing to emotion in argument) when I was still teaching.  It's unfortunate that I do not have a few classes this year as the ads have been the proverbial (and stereotypical) gold mine.  I'm still waiting for the "Obama: he has giant ears, but is he ready to lead?"  Or maybe "John McCain has a plan for the economy.  All newly homeless people can make camp under his jowls."  But one part of John McCain's whole platform really has me a little creeped out.  It's not his fault and maybe it's just me but there is definitely something to be said about signifiers and the signified.

Basically what I take issue with is John McCain and Sarah Palin's self-referential use of the term maverick.  I'm not saying that politically either one is or isn't.  Frankly I could not care less.  It is the word itself.

Flashback to the 1980s for a second.  Leg warmers, New Coke, so on, so forth.  (If you haven't seen I love the 80s by now it's your loss.)  One of the most popular movies of the time was Top Gun.  You probably remember singing along to "You've Lost that Loving Feeling" with Tom in the bar scene.  Or maybe you cried when Goose died.  Or maybe still you remember thinking "why the hell are we fighting a handful of Russian planes?  Are we in some sort of trouble?"

But for me this movie holds a different memory.  It was the first, and really only, time I have heard the word maverick . . . until now.  Something went horribly wrong in my brain because now if I try to picture the movie everything is fine until a scene with Tom Cruise is recalled then, BAM, jump cut to John McCain in the role of Maverick.  Stuffed into a flight suit.  Crooning at the bar to attract a would-be sexual encounter.  Playing topless beach volleyball.  

It really is upsetting.  Of course it doesn't end there.  Sarah Palin would have to be Goose which I guess makes Obama Ice Man, Maverick's nemesis.  I imagine McCain and Palin walking shoulder to shoulder on a flight deck reciting, in unison, "I feel the need, the need for speed," before limping into a Lincoln Town Car and going 45 on the highway.  That's an age joke.  

Palin as Goose is a good fit though.  They are interchangeable.  Both with an "aw shucks, golly gee," sort of disposition which, coincidentally, makes me want to vomit.  Even Obama as Ice Man works.  The young hot shot . . . etc, whatever else...I can't remember too much about Val Kilmer in the film.  Of course then you have Viper who is sort of the boss of both Maverick and Ice Man so, to continue to merge reality and art, I guess, since both Obama and McCain are senators, Nancy Pelosi would be Viper.

Side note, the only black dude in the movie was named Sundown...not very subtle.  Why night Blackman or Midnight or Film Noir?  

So now I have this cast of politicians invading my memories of a movie I've never even liked which then makes me like it even less.  But I know, and this is my saving grace, that Tom Cruise was Maverick, whether I can picture it that way or not.  I hate Tom but I'd rather see him playing topless beach volleyball then Johnny Mac.  Palin on the other hand . . . .

PS At Blog's End fans, due to popular demand you should now be able to post comments.  Try it and let me know.