Here is a great example of when artistic design gets a slap in the face from real life interaction.
Or another way of saying it would be when an artist gets slapped with a lawsuit.
I also hate it when a perfectly good climbing surface is called art and rendered unclimbable.
DNA Bench with H2O
What kind of company logo/mascot is this?
We saw this logo on the side of a company van today:
(image from http://www.sewer-rat.org/)
What the fuck is that! That rat has one hell of a robotic, claw appendage extending from its groin or it's humping a drain snake. Add the Jesus Fish on his sleeve and the Ohio State hat and you've got yourself one hell of a mascot.
They are a plumbing company in Columbus Ohio called Swamp Rat. Next time I have a meat plug in the toilet during a Buckeyes game and I need some religion, I'm going to give them a call.
(image from http://www.sewer-rat.org/)
What the fuck is that! That rat has one hell of a robotic, claw appendage extending from its groin or it's humping a drain snake. Add the Jesus Fish on his sleeve and the Ohio State hat and you've got yourself one hell of a mascot.
They are a plumbing company in Columbus Ohio called Swamp Rat. Next time I have a meat plug in the toilet during a Buckeyes game and I need some religion, I'm going to give them a call.
Verizon gets your consent by not getting your consent.
Verizon’s definition of “getting your consent” is not getting your consent and unless you un-give them the original assumption of consent, you have, in their eyes, given your full consent.
It’s garbage day and that means that I can go through the mailbox and have the garbage cans right there to throw away all the crap mail. As I was disposing of the chaff, I saw an envelope from Verizon that stank of sales offers. The only thing that kept if from the trash was the black lettering on the outside that mentioned “changes to your account.”
Inside the envelope was a brochure with the first section titled, “You privacy is important to us.” (See scan below. Click to enlarge.) In the brochure, it clearly states that, “The Federal Communications Commission requires that (Verizon) obtains your consent to (share Customer Proprietary Network Information.)" The Customer Proprietary Network Information (CPNI) is information “such as, quality, technical configuration, type, destination, location, and amount of the use of the telecommunications services you purchase.” It also says that CPNI isn’t my name, address to telephone number, but I don’t give a shit…
I’m pissed that their definition of “giving consent” is doing nothing. To not give consent, I have to call a number and “opt out” of my consent that I never gave. One of my favorite sayings is, "Silence means consent," but this seems out of line. The FCC requires they get my consent and damnit they should have to get it from me.
I just called and the automated system was painless to un-consent.
Maybe I have not been reading my Customer Agreements and perhaps this is commonplace, but it just stinks. If you are a Verizon customer and want to “opt out” of your assumption of consent, do so at 800-333-9956.
If any of you know why this is something I should be un-opting out of, please help me by explaining why.
It’s garbage day and that means that I can go through the mailbox and have the garbage cans right there to throw away all the crap mail. As I was disposing of the chaff, I saw an envelope from Verizon that stank of sales offers. The only thing that kept if from the trash was the black lettering on the outside that mentioned “changes to your account.”
Inside the envelope was a brochure with the first section titled, “You privacy is important to us.” (See scan below. Click to enlarge.) In the brochure, it clearly states that, “The Federal Communications Commission requires that (Verizon) obtains your consent to (share Customer Proprietary Network Information.)" The Customer Proprietary Network Information (CPNI) is information “such as, quality, technical configuration, type, destination, location, and amount of the use of the telecommunications services you purchase.” It also says that CPNI isn’t my name, address to telephone number, but I don’t give a shit…
I’m pissed that their definition of “giving consent” is doing nothing. To not give consent, I have to call a number and “opt out” of my consent that I never gave. One of my favorite sayings is, "Silence means consent," but this seems out of line. The FCC requires they get my consent and damnit they should have to get it from me.
I just called and the automated system was painless to un-consent.
Maybe I have not been reading my Customer Agreements and perhaps this is commonplace, but it just stinks. If you are a Verizon customer and want to “opt out” of your assumption of consent, do so at 800-333-9956.
If any of you know why this is something I should be un-opting out of, please help me by explaining why.
Work Conversation by Two-Sack
Team member X: "Your computer is disgusting, and your keyboard is crusty."
Two-Sack: "You got something against DNA, a-hole?"
Team member Y: "And your touch pad is the worst."
Two-Sack: "That's my landing zone."
Two-Sack: "You got something against DNA, a-hole?"
Team member Y: "And your touch pad is the worst."
Two-Sack: "That's my landing zone."
Hanging out at the water cooler
This photo is so wrong on so many levels. That is a plastic thumb hanging out of my shirt. I'm not sure what those stains are. That look on my face is awful.
Put them together and they make one hell of a photo.
Gay Man’s Book Day
I don’t think it comes as a surprise to any of you that I am gay. Super gay. Here’s how gay:
Miss Sally goes out about once a week with her friends. Once she leaves the house and the kids are in bed, John will come over and we watch a movie and eat pop corn. We call it “Gay Man’s Movie Night.” We like to discuss the movie and laugh (Borat} or be sad {The Life Aquatic} or wonder what all the hype was about {Knocked Up.}
A few weeks ago, John and I were at a bar after an Ohio State football game. There were a lot of hot girls there. Hot, drunk girls. John and I stood around on the edge of the dance floor and debated a number of logic points in Stephen Donaldson’s most recent book. A girl sauntered off the dance floor and completely unprovoked she said to us, “You are both pathetic.” She then turned back out on to the dance floor. We were stunned. And then we laughed. It was true. Gay Man’s Date Night.
Tomorrow, Stephen R. Donaldson’s next book is coming out. I re-arranged my meetings so that I would be done by 11:00am. John took the day off. We’ll meet at the Barnes and Nobel around noon and buy two copies of the book. I expect that we will cuddle up next to each other on a couch in the cafe and read the first 100 pages or so. Gay Man’s Book Day.
And that's how gay I am.
If you have any other date selections for us, please let us know.
And P.S.: Robert Jordan can suck Donaldson’s balls. Donaldson writes circles around that hack. That was your Gay Man’s Author Critique.
Miss Sally goes out about once a week with her friends. Once she leaves the house and the kids are in bed, John will come over and we watch a movie and eat pop corn. We call it “Gay Man’s Movie Night.” We like to discuss the movie and laugh (Borat} or be sad {The Life Aquatic} or wonder what all the hype was about {Knocked Up.}
A few weeks ago, John and I were at a bar after an Ohio State football game. There were a lot of hot girls there. Hot, drunk girls. John and I stood around on the edge of the dance floor and debated a number of logic points in Stephen Donaldson’s most recent book. A girl sauntered off the dance floor and completely unprovoked she said to us, “You are both pathetic.” She then turned back out on to the dance floor. We were stunned. And then we laughed. It was true. Gay Man’s Date Night.
Tomorrow, Stephen R. Donaldson’s next book is coming out. I re-arranged my meetings so that I would be done by 11:00am. John took the day off. We’ll meet at the Barnes and Nobel around noon and buy two copies of the book. I expect that we will cuddle up next to each other on a couch in the cafe and read the first 100 pages or so. Gay Man’s Book Day.
And that's how gay I am.
If you have any other date selections for us, please let us know.
And P.S.: Robert Jordan can suck Donaldson’s balls. Donaldson writes circles around that hack. That was your Gay Man’s Author Critique.
See anything wrong with this school crossing sign?
(CLICK TO ENLARGE)
This was a school crossing sign I saw in Seville, Spain back in 1993. No photoshopping on my part. It's black and white because that's what you are 'sposed to take photos with in foreign countries.
Ad Placement... which are the conjoined twins?
I saw this news report about conjoined twins today. As I looked in the article I thought, "Those kids don't look like twins." As I watched, the photo flipped to an advertisement. Then I saw the real conjoined twins in the upper right hand corner. I waited until the ad cycled and took a screen shot.
Good Luck Miss Shelly!!
Good luck with your surgery Miss Shelly.
We'll be thinking of you.
Oh, and make sure you get everything they take out of you back in jars and labeled. I went in for a simple surgery and the surgeon removed three inches from my penis! Now, what am I supposed to do now that I only have eight inches?
We'll be thinking of you.
Oh, and make sure you get everything they take out of you back in jars and labeled. I went in for a simple surgery and the surgeon removed three inches from my penis! Now, what am I supposed to do now that I only have eight inches?
Rock Star Parking vs Movie Star Parking
Let’s say you are driving out to a restaurant and as you prepare to circle the block 18 times looking for a parking spot, a space appears right in front of the restaurant. What kind of parking do you call that? My friend Erik calls it Rock Star Parking. I call it Movie Star parking. Who is right?
I am biased, but I will try to be fair.
Erik is wrong. I am right. It's called Movie Star Parking
Rock Star Parking implies that because Rock Stars are famous/popular that a spot in front of a destination will be reserved for them. Or that they are so important that people will make room for them. Or perhaps they are so special that the parking god (I believe her name is Vera) just makes a spot magically appear.
The flaw in Erik’s logic is that Rock Stars don’t drive themselves. They have their driver or an entourage that drop them off at the front door. Even more likely, Rock Stars are dropped of at back doors to avoid the types of people that might save them a parking spot in front.
I refer to good parking as Movie Star Parking because no one in the movies ever parks more than ten steps away from an entrance. A space always is open. There usually isn’t a meter. They don’t even need to parallel park as there are three open spaces so they can glide in. Sometimes the scene in the movie just cuts to them getting out of an already parked car.
It’s Movie Star parking. An open space in front of a destination. I’m right. Erik’s wrong. I'm sure you all can agree to that.
I am biased, but I will try to be fair.
Erik is wrong. I am right. It's called Movie Star Parking
Rock Star Parking implies that because Rock Stars are famous/popular that a spot in front of a destination will be reserved for them. Or that they are so important that people will make room for them. Or perhaps they are so special that the parking god (I believe her name is Vera) just makes a spot magically appear.
The flaw in Erik’s logic is that Rock Stars don’t drive themselves. They have their driver or an entourage that drop them off at the front door. Even more likely, Rock Stars are dropped of at back doors to avoid the types of people that might save them a parking spot in front.
I refer to good parking as Movie Star Parking because no one in the movies ever parks more than ten steps away from an entrance. A space always is open. There usually isn’t a meter. They don’t even need to parallel park as there are three open spaces so they can glide in. Sometimes the scene in the movie just cuts to them getting out of an already parked car.
It’s Movie Star parking. An open space in front of a destination. I’m right. Erik’s wrong. I'm sure you all can agree to that.
Subscribe to:
Comments (Atom)