Election Day Spectacular

Let's play a game! Pick the gubernatorial candidate with the most clearly identifiable mental ill . . . er uh, craz . . . er uh, oddity -- yeah, let's just call it most obvious oddity:

Jon Huntsman
Bob Springmeyer
"Superdell" Dell Schanze

I'll give you a hint: This was his entry in the Utah Voter Information Pamphlet
I have a basic belief in life. That no person should have "Super" in his name unless it is immediately followed by "Man" or ". . . eme Commander NATO Allied Forces."

Also, ideally in the case of the former, any such person is required to be from Krypton.

EuroPower Pimp 2000

I give you the Euro Power P(i)MP 2000.

More Power, More Features, Less Weight (For today's body conscious pimp.)

Scanner Scan

Sometimes error messages are really useful. In fact, they often help you figure out what went wrong, and how to fix it.

However, what does one do when then get an error message on a PDA?

Why you take your PDA to your scanner and e-mail me the image result, of course!


I guess it works, but it's still freakin' ridiculous.

Man Ray for Teenagers

I saw this ad on the New York Times Website:

It's animated, so perhaps you can't see it here. But it takes a punny stand. It reads:

When When kids think Man Ray is a poisonous jellyfish, clearly there isn't enough art in our schools.

For those of you who don't know, Man Ray is a photographer with a weird name and, tastes that maybe we'll just call "salacious".


Take a look at the girl in the ad, then take a look at the first few hits on Google's Image results for Man Ray.

OK, actually, don't look at that link. It could get you fired if you're at work, but I wanted to make the point.

Avant-garde?
--Sure.
Art?
--Yeah.
Naked women as the subject of art for teenagers first exposures to the fine arts?
-- Er, uh . . . maybe we should do less exposing of people and introduce from now on . (Or at least until they think that hanging a Marcel Duchamp print is just as cool as a Man Ray.)

Technically Dada, one could still safely call "The Fountain" by Marcel Duchamp Avante-garde.

One word:

No:What's with the shirt? Ergo Old Navy Delenda Est!

Power Dogs

There's a hot-dog stand near BYU campus, popular with the locals called J-Dawgs. Today at work, we visited J-Dawgs.

However, being so close to campus, it is really hard to find a place to park

Unless you work for the Power Company

There they were in line with their truck parked, admittedly with lights flashing, in the middle of the street.

If I had lights on my car, I would totally have done this too.

Bathroom Humor

There is a place in between Provo, Utah and Salt Lake City called Thanksgiving Point. Near this place is a gas station, and in this gas station is a men's bathroom.

In this bathroom, one will find this sign (assuming one has good hygiene and is looking for paper towels).

But does one find this sign in the women's restroom?

That's a negatory, Ghostrider.

One must wonder what constitutes "misuse of paper towels"? Further, how was this so consistent that they felt the need to remove paper towels from their restroom all together? It's as if the area suffers from a roving paper towel abusing gang.

Little do they know that havoc that can be wrought with a hand dryer . . . .

Embryo Imbroglio

I found this at the BYU bookstore's discontinued books shelf:


I have a few guesses as to why they are no longer using this as a text book.
Seriously though, The Haunting Fetus? That sounds like a really bad Sam Raimi movie.

The plot: all the babies that were aborted have come back to haunt their mothers and the doctors who preformed abortions.

The Haunting Fetus. Rated R. Now playing at theaters everywhere.

My Internet is Broken!

Now most IT people will tell you that phrase, "My Internet is down" bugs them because, well you have your own Internet?



But this one caught me off guard.

Now, to be fair, she was using a VPN and that failed on her, so she was wondering if there was issues in the office. Still, that has got to be the strangest instant message I've ever received.

Ergo, Oriental Trading Company Delanda Est

The Oriental Trading company, one of those places that will sell you 10 gross of plastic whistles for half a cent each has a catalog that came out for Christmas called "A Celebration of Faith."

Here's a sampling.

A whole section dedicated to things that say, what is arguably rather disrespectful things like, well see the beach ball.

Does this strike anyone else as a little odd?

Then how about the slap bracelets, the stress balls, the plates, napkins and banners and dozens of other items all emblazoned "Happy Birthday Jesus".

If that doesn't strike you as strange, how about the "Jesus loves you snow much" football or "Jingle for Jesus" bracelets, complete with jingle bells?

But lest we not feel like turning over the money changer's tables just yet, here's a final cherry:

This comes from the section titled, "All Aboard for Jesus".

Hilarious? yes.

Awful? Oh yeah.

Gas Mask

Just my average Saturday.

But the novelty of wearing a respirator wares off swiftly when you need it to actually breathe.

Good Touch, Bad Touch

I saw this in a public restroom the other day. (and yes, I decided to take a picture with my cell phone.)
Does anyone else think it creepy to have something called "Nice Touch" in a public bathroom?
"Now show me on this doll where the soap dispenser touched you."

Find that smell

Yesterday, a friend of mine asked me to come over to play "Find That Smell;" a game which one shouldn't play without a respirator. Unfortunately, wearing a respirator defeats the purpose of playing name that smell.

The smell first occurred when he steam cleaned the carpets in his room. Apparently, the cleaning process brought out the gremlins of smelly years gone past.

At the start of the game, my olfactory was confused by the pungent aroma of cat-pee-drenched cardboard that wafted liberally about the room.

In the end, the best I could offer was the analysis that his room smelled like wet cardboard . . . no, on second thought, cardboard made wet by urine.

So it is with such places. Hopefully a second, or third good steam cleaning will do the trick.

Work Discussions

I got back to my desk at one point today to find I've been included on an IM between one of our receptionists and one of our techs.

Jeanine says:
ticket # 70290 is close to expiring. Can someone take this call or let me know when they can call back?
Garret says:
Kate Forster (Sandra Bullock) is moving out from her lake house, built all of it with glass. She is a doctor and has just begin to work in a hospital in Chicago, moving to a new flat in the center of the city. Alex Wyler (Keanu Reeves) is the new owner of the lake house, a young architect who's working in the construction of a new complex of houses at the city skirts. Alex and Kate are maintaining a correspondence, talking about the house matters, sending each other letters, which are put in the lake house's letter box. But a strange thing is happening. . . .dun dun dun
Jeanine says:
Garret what are you doing?
Garret says:
sorry
Jeanine says:
Can someone take this ticket?
Garret says:
The lake house
Jeanine says:
just take the ticket!
Garret says:
best story of all time
Jeanine says:
Yes, I recognized the synopsis!
Garret says:
I'm taking 70263

Just so odd . . .

quod me nutrit me destruit

I heard this phrase for the first time today. "quod me nutrit me destruit" It means "That which nourishes me destroys me."

Then I saw the girl who usually shares desk space with me.

Oh Wendy, Quod me nutrit me destruit!

Stoners

I've been trying to get a photo of two guys who've I've nicknamed "The Ferry Stoners."

The come by the office here, walk down into the trees by the river and toke on up.

The amusing part is when they come back. One of them, a very emo, girl-pant wearing nappy hair having, dude loves to dance.

And we love to watch.

When they come, you might find a dozen or two people standing in plate-glass windows watching the Ferry Stoner do his ferry stoner dance.

It took a while before we figured out it was a dude. When I get a picture, I'll be sure to share it.

Graduated Urinal

I just had what I think could be a stellar idea -- a new fad even.

The Graduated Urinal.

You could have little marks that indicate the volume of Urine expelled.

Now girls might think this disgusting, but guys will have to admit, when they watch the urinal fill you can't help but ask yourself, "I drank 32 oz of coke, how much am I now getting rid of?"

DONE!

My time at the Daily Herald is done. Finished. Over. And I'm so excited I can hardly stand it.

So, instead of listing my complaints about our lil' Provo rag, I'll simply say this:

WOOOOOOOOOOOOO HOOOOOOOO. Or, to me more in theme with the way I, and this man would usually say it, Huzzah! Huzzah! Huzzah!

You and Me and the Bottle Makes Bleed

So I was at the farewell shin-dig for two betrothed gentlemen, whom we call "the Daves." The Daves are getting married on the same day, both to women named Sara.

I sat there drinking my old timey sarsaparilla, discussing the fact that there were no women of ill repute at such bachelor parties, when I realized that there is no way I could break that bottle over someone's head, ala Jackie Chan movies. (I use Jackie Chan movies because he is on my Carl's Jr. coke.)

When I pointed this out, it was realized that you were more likely to bloody someone's head with the thing long before it broke. And if it did break, it would break at the weakest point, the neck of the bottle where you are holding it.

So there you would stand, bloody handed looking as retarded as you are holding the neck of a busted bottle.

Then I was sad inside, because I knew that I would never get to break a bottle open on the end and threaten a rapscallious bar fighter with it.

Press Pass

I just realized that I have no earthly idea where I left my press pass. That is probably a bad thing because it is kind of important to have at say, press events.

I should look into this.