Who Writes This Crap

Pun intended.

‘We all go. Why not enjoy the go?’

Hey Charmin, what were you guys thinking?

I am in the business. I am fully aware of the countless taglines submitted, the late nights getting silly around a conference table laden with candy, the absurd options that come out of these sessions and the painful layers of approvals.

I cannot help but think this one was a joke that somehow slipped into the pile and someone who was running out to catch a plane or go to a kid’s soccer game signed off on it without thinking.

Because, you know, even those of us who ‘enjoy the go’ – and believe me, I am one of them – know that this is just too absurd to be real. If you must know, bathroom humor and discussion of toileting has always been a favorite topic in my family. The joke is that it only takes about 15 minutes when we are all together before the discussion turns to… going. So if anyone would be the market for this, it would be us. But it sort of falls flat for me.

Now don’t get me going on the ‘Ultra Suave’ subhead to Ultra Soft. (picturing a guy with an ascot sitting on the bowl practicing smooth pick up lines) *There is nothing like humor when you are your own target… it was just pointed out to me that Ultra Suave is the Spanish translation for Ultra Soft… damn, apparently I would have done poorly on that trip to Spain. Imagine the trouble I could have gotten myself into there.

I will give this brand credit for their ‘sitorsquat’ public restroom app. Although, if I am not mistaken, they stole this idea from George Castanza.

FYI, I am a loyal user of Charmin despite their silly taglines and even though I know it is bad for the environment. There are some places I will not sacrifice, and let’s face it, butt suave is where it’s at.

You CAN pick your friend’s nose

Remember that stupid saying,”You can pick your friends; and you can pick your nose; but you can’t pick your friend’s nose”?

I never really got that. I mean, people do all sorts of weird stuff with orifices (or is that orifici?), I would imagine a little nose picking amongst friends might be going on out there with the non-germphobic crowd.

I digress, this post was spawned by an email from the stock photography site, Corbis. I have been a Corbis customer since the olden days of graphic design when they would send out these delicious print volumes of stock photo images and we would flip through the pages to choose the right image. And instead of emails, we would receive teaser postcards with images like these to get us to call and do a search. Yes, I am aware this is the Art Director’s equivalent of the ‘I used to walk to school 10 miles in the snow’ story that my dad used to tell us. All you youngun’s, you will have these stories about archaic, clunky handheld mobile devices instead of the chip behind their ear that your kids will have.

Ughh… digressing again. The point is, the other morning, on a particularly difficult day for me (stay tuned for more on that on Tuesday), the photo above showed up in my inbox. It had that Sleeper-esque feeling about it and just the visual made me laugh. Their 20% headline was excellent for their purpose, but this headline popped into my head:

You CAN pick your friend’s nose.

I know, I am brilliant. What a lovely promo for a plastic surgeon… maybe a 2 for 1 deal! It made me laugh on a morning that laughing was the last thing I thought I would do, so thanks Corbis. But, the best part was yet to come when I clicked over to their site (yes it worked, they got the click-through from me and put Corbis top of mind), I found this photo… the pay off.

The proverbial ‘picked nose’.

Yeh it could be time to pitch a plastic surgery team. Anyone in? Other headline ideas?

Lady Anti-Monkey Butt

I saw this the other day in the oddest of places… the hardware store. I am still unclear why it was on the shelf next to the Duck Tape (not to be confused with the Duct Tape).

Perhaps this was the animal shelf.

I had a vague memory of this stuff and went back into my archives to find that I had written about the male version back in October 09. Yes, I have been writing that long… much longer actually; about stuff like anti-friction powder, so yes, you could say I have an impressive body of work.

I simply love the hot pink butt on this monkey. The pink bow, the thumbs up, the crazy grin of anti-friction relief, the pearl earrings for G-d’s sake… she is just fabulous.

I think I was drawn to her human stance because I just finished a 582 page book about a talking chimp. I have this odd feeling that all the animals around me can really talk but they are clamming up because they don’t want to make a scene.

No, I don’t think I have snapped.

Back to the powder. Anti-friction? Is it me, or do I just not feel that there is so much butt friction in my daily life that I need something to counter it. Perhaps it is this – my son always complains about a condition he calls swamp ass. So the first thing I thought of when I saw this was how great it would be for lady swamp ass. You know, like the Virginia Slims of ass relief. And then I read that post from a few years ago and I had the same thought (sans the Virginia Slims).

So now I am snapping AND losing my memory.

Who cares. The thing that counts is that I am blogging again. And after a long period of being serious, I feel compelled to be absurd again. That can’t be bad (not as bad as butt friction, anyway).

So, for those of you who missed me and were starting to complain…

You asked for it!

Time to Cry Tuesday – As Long as You’ve Got Your Health

My nana used to say this all the time. As would be fitting for a young person I used to smile sweetly in response and go about my business without giving it much thought. I mean, older people said stuff like this all the time, right?

In the last almost 3 months I have thought about this often and I am pretty sure Nana is waving that perfectly manicured finger at me from wherever she is. I can just about hear her signature, ‘Now, Amy Dear… I TOLD you!”, echoing in my head. (For a while I was convinced she thought Dear was my middle name).

For those who were regular readers, you have noticed – and complained I might add, in an endearing way – about my sparse postings. I am working on getting back here, but it seems I am a rolling series of calamities waiting to happen.

Not wanting to bore you with the blow by blow details, let’s just say I have run the gamut. I have decided that rather than bitch about it I will try to point out the humor in what I hope is the tail end of this run.

1. After 2 rounds of sinus infections and countless antibiotics, I finally felt as if I could breathe clearly again and all was good with the world. That is when while making the bed, the dog decided to ‘help’ and popped me so hard in the nose I almost passed out. As I ran to the bathroom, bleeding profusely, it occurred to me I had never known what is was like to take a hit to the face. It sucks, btw. And breathing… not going to lie, it’s not so great.
2. If you remember, I had a little ‘mishap’ with my blood pressure and they changed my meds. All was good with the world till…. I looked down to find my Aunt Bessie’s ankle on the end of my right foot. Yeh, that’s right, I was pretty much in the market for support hose and a hairnet. (BTW, I am unsure whether I had an Aunt Bessie or if she had swollen ankles but it makes the story better so go with it). I called the doc, he changed my meds, the ankle started to go down, I tossed the hairnet and all was good with the world. Until…
3. I slipped on some towels and fell down the stairs carrying 2 laundry baskets and sprained the same friggin’ ankle! Yeh, that’s right, the one I was supposed to watch for swelling to make sure the new meds were working right! I was, however, wearing shorts and sneakers getting ready to go on the elliptical, so I am deeming this a sports injury. (Please give me this one)

The moral of this story? Jewish girls should not do laundry? Dogs should not make the bed? Nope.

The moral of this story is that Nana was right!

So if you happen to see me gimping down the street, be kind. Offer me a little bubble plastic. Or maybe a helmet. And remember:

As long as you’ve got your health…

Fun With International Symbols

I work long hours. My office is in the basement and every once in awhile you can find me laughing out loud down here. You know my motto, it is always good to find little things to amuse yourself.

Last night I was doing an image search for an infographic project and I needed to weed through pages of stock icon art. I almost passed this one by, but (no pun intended) the yellow struck me and I stopped. Then I tilted my head a bit and took another look. Was this what I thought it was? Um… yeh. The search term field had it spelled out loud and clear:

Rectal exam.

International symbol for rectal exam?! Well, I suppose this would come in handy in a foreign country. You know, when you are having some intestinal distress and taking over the counter meds doesn’t make as much sense as having a friggin’ rectal by someone who does not speak your language. Would this be off the street signage? Exactly where would we find this symbol?

I also came across this series:

 

Not sure why mom/baby, wheel chair guy and trash man find their way to same page as pee boy and squatting pee boy (what the hell is that?) BTW, I believe the little squatter is wearing a shirt and no pants… wrong on all sorts of level. I love the legs up on the toilet guy. That would come in handy when illustrating a piece about perverts that hide in ladies rooms. Or my fave – the kneeling pucker, AKA the international symbol for  college freshman.

Anyone want to take a crack at the one next to pukey boy? Does that illustrate the pain one feels when trying to flush one’s foot down the toilet?

OK, I admit it. Sometimes my job is more fun than recreation. Sometimes my job IS recreation.

And seriously, who can pass up a little bathroom humor.

Thanks istockphoto, for an entertaining evening.

Flat Cat on The High Line

I would like to start this post by assuring you that no animals were harmed just for a laugh.

We spent the afternoon on The High Line today. It was a glorious afternoon and there was a claustrophobic mass of humanity nice crowd out there enjoying the day with us. The thing about The High Line is that it was built after many of the apartments that are adjacent to it. I would imagine those who previously had lovely private terraces and windows facing what was an abandoned raised train track are now less than thrilled to have throngs of people strolling past their windows every day. I would also imagine that the window treatment biz picked up in this neighborhood after the completion of this extraordinary public gem.

I digress. One of these very not-so-private apartments facing the walkway had this cat wedged in between the couch and the window. At first a crowd started to gather and point in horror that this poor animal had been neglected and was now in its final resting place for all to see.

Until the little sucker moved. It sort of stretched and repositioned itself and settled back into its big snooze under glass.

This confirms my theory that cats are more than a little messed up in the head.

My favorite conversation:

Man: It’s not real.

Woman: Sure it is, didn’t you just see it move?!

Man: That doesn’t prove it’s real.

Me: (to myself of course) IDIOT!

Unattended Children

 

This sign hangs in the waiting room of my Vet’s office. (the wispy stuff is halloween related).

I love these people. We have been through a lot together in the past 13 years, both with my first dog and now my new one. They are kind, compassionate, loving people who have to put up with people and their pet craziness all day long. Which I would imagine is nothing compared to the irresponsible parenting that comes along with the territory.

I love this solution. Clear, to the point and with humor.

Hey, I wonder if there will be a band of wired kids and puppies running around in town this month.

Expiration date humiliation

Ok, I will admit it. I suck at throwing stuff away. I may appear to be all neat and Virgo when you first walk in my house but the pockets of stuff are way out of hand.

Labor Day found me in a flurry of ‘I must get rid of shit insanity’, so I tackled a few kitchen cabinets.

My dear nephew who is now a big old engaged grown up, used to come to my house as little kid and check all the expiration dates on my stuff. You know, mayonnaise, dressing, ketchup. Alright, so my condiments might have been a little out of date.

Well, Sir Matthew, this blog post is for you. Here is what I found:

1. 2004. Cough medicine. Yeh, probably will be still hacking away if we took this one. (fyi, box was still sealed, could be worth something)

2. 2005. Pepto Bismol. Do you think it may still cause ‘darkening of tongue or stool’? And while we are discussing this, are you not more than a little disturbed to find a healthcare product that uses the words ‘tongue’ and ‘stool’ in the same sentence?

3. 2008. More Pepto Bismol… tablets this time. FYI, this is Gary’s favorite OTC remedy. He actually likes the taste!

Ok, there was one more thing that even though it had been in my cabinet for over 23 years(!) it will never have an expiration date and I don’t think I will ever be able to bring myself to throwing it out.

I know, awww!

For 5000 years we were wandering…

 

The ‘WE’ for those not of the tribe are the Jews. We have been known to wander for give or take a few thousand years. We can be restless that way. Have you ever been to a restaurant with my husband? NEVER accept the first table.

This is engraved above the blinds in our favorite local Jewish deli. Actually it is the only local Jewish deli but if it wasn’t it would still be our favorite. So the photo above is one wall. And the payoff was… will a little bit scary but funny none the less.

Chip Off the Old Garbage

If you are new here, I have been known to post about garbage now and then (define now and then). Ok, so maybe there is a little more spring in my step when I go out to walk in the AM on a garbage day. What can I say, I have very creative neighbors.

Today, my daughter came off the train from work with a story about the boxes of random stuff that has been in her office for weeks. She has been thinking to herself, “Hey, why have I not taken a picture of this garbage that appears to have a penis sticking out of the top of the box.” Then she asked a co-worker, why have we not talked about that garbage over there and the friend replied, “Oh, you mean the penis garbage?”.

No lie.

She then proceeded to make everyone sit at her desk so they could get a good view of said penis garbage.

Go head, look at that picture and tell me you don’t see the penis. What? You are on a mobile. Well then let me help you. Here is a close up.

Oh the little things we do to amuse ourselves during the day.

Do all families behave this way?