Potty Training For Dummies

WHAT IS IT ABOUT MAJOR CORPORATIONS AND BATHROOMS that makes people crazy? Is it the cubicle lifestyle? Or is it just a by-product of hundreds of people being stuck in the same building together for 40 or more hours a week? I only ask because of the sign I saw posted on the men's bathroom at the company where my wife and I frequently do freelance work. (Click for a larger image.)



Since you may not be able to read the extensive text under the title Potty Training for Dummies, I will reproduce all two hundred and thirty-nine (!!) words here:

The cleaning staff that services our bathroom facilities do a great job of keeping them clean and tidy, yet it seems that within minutes of their departure some of us who participate in the use of said facilities tend to be some of the sloppiest hygiene deprived individuals around. I would venture to say that the dirtiest public restroom in Calcutta would rate higher on the clean meter than this bathroom on any given day.

The toilets aren’t there to see how many rolls of TP you can attempt to flush in one sitting.
The sink counters are not a display table for your used paper wash towels.
The sinks are not there for you to clean your coffee pots and leave the grounds.
The urinals are meant for what the name implies, not paper, gum and some thing which science has yet to name.

Remember when your Wife, Mother or Father would remind you to put up the toilet seat, well that still hasn’t registered with some of us yet. It doesn’t take anymore effort to practice cleanliness and good hygiene than it does to make the mess, so let’s all think back to what are parent’s taught us when we were young...Put the seat up, flush the toilet, don’t use to much TP, and wash your hands. We’ll all be happier, the cleaning staff will be happier and most of all our parents will be happier.

The italics are mine, but the grammar (and color change) is all the mystery author of this crazy, crazy note. Now, I have written about the bathroom antics at this building before. But I found this note to be the most insane. First of all, let us consider the amount of time that went into composing it, and add to that the amount of time it took in Photoshop, then add the time it took to find the appropriate clip art images of toilets, and then add to THAT the amount of time it took to print and then laminate the sign. (Did I not mention that this sign was laminated? Because it was.)

It's hard for me to pinpoint my favorite thing about this sign. Because there's so much to love. There's "let's all think back to what are parent's taught us", just for beginners. And there's also the capitalization (for emphasis I'm guessing) of "Wife, Mother or Father". There's also the fact that the sign disappeared after being up on the door for a few hours.

But best of all, I think, is the illustration. The YES and the NO. I get the NO part. I get that the illustration is showing me not to throw an entire roll of toilet paper (or TP, as the author prefers) into a toilet, and that the result of doing so is water on the floor by the toilet.

But I'm a little confused by the YES. It takes me a little while to recognize the floating blue curlicues as individual sheets of TP, and in the illustration it is unclear what those floating TP squares are up to. Should I use them to press the plunger? (Good advice, I think.) Should I stick them to the wall? The illustration is unclear. What it does NOT appear to indicate is that the TP squares should go in the toilet. When I compare the YES to the NO, I can clearly see the rolls of TP going in to the toilet, where the TP squares in the YES illustration may, in fact, be floating away from it.

Whatever the action to be taken with the TP squares, I believe the illustration is very clear about what should be happening. I should pee on the floor next to the toilet. At least, that's my take-away from the yellow pool around the base of the toilet.

And I have to be honest: I don't think I agree with this sign. I don't think it's a good idea to pee on the floor. Maybe that makes me a snob, but if it does, so be it.

Not a Fan

SO FAR 2008 IS NOT WINNING ME OVER. And if this year wants to be my pal, it's got a lot of work to do. As if the ongoing (and apparently unending) Writers Strike wasn't bad enough, I had to put my cat Myrna to sleep yesterday. She was 16 years old (would have been 17 in May) and had been sick with Chronic Renal Failure since the summer. So it wasn't as if it was unexpected.

Which is not to say that it was any easier to say goodbye.



Surprisingly, the worst part of the whole experience wasn't being in the room while she was euthanized, even though that was awful and incredibly heartbreaking. The worst was watching her waste away, gradually and almost invisibly, for the last six months. It was the reverse of watching her grow from a kitten into a cat. Seeing her everyday made it difficult to register just how much she was shrinking away.

Several months ago, I happened to look back a photo I took of her last January, and only then did I realize how thin she had become. The regular weighings at the vet confirmed her dropping weight. She used to be a big cat. Not fat at all. But big and fluffy. By fall, she was down from ten pounds to about seven. And in her final weeks, the weight loss was even more dramatic. The last time she was weighed at the vet, she weighed barely over three and a half pounds.



So there is a little bit of relief that comes with the sadness of putting an ailing pet to sleep. She was suffering and had been for months. And as much as we wanted her to stick around forever, her body was not going to let that happen. Also, we will always outlive our pets, always. It's the heartbreak agreement we willingly enter into. And I will gladly do it again, considering what I received in return: 16 years of companionship with a really great pet.

So thanks a lot, 2008. So far you've been a real dick.

Mysterious...

THE IMAGES FROM THURSDAY'S POST disappeared from my blog. Either Blogger does not like Pricasso, and thus fine art, or the agents of Pricasso constantly trawl the web to make sure no one has misappropriated JPEGs of his genius.

Whatever the case, I have reposted photos on the post. We'll see if they stick.

Keep It In Your Pants

ALL ARTISTS HAVE EGOS to some extent. It's what helps convince them that anyone would care what they had to say or do or write or paint. But what kind of ego must you have to be this guy?



That's Pricasso. He paints with his dick. Seriously. He paints nudes (no surprise there) and portraits (of world leaders, no less), using his dick as a paintbrush. To fill in the background, sometimes he uses other body parts.



Now, admittedly his name is mostly just a pun. He could have gone with Vincent Van Cock, Claude Bone-et, Balls Gauguin or Dick-elangelo. But I love that he chose a name that brings to mind Picasso, one of the greatest artists ever. And after visiting Pricasso's web site, I get the feeling it was no accident, like people should sit up and take notice of his painting talent. He's definitely the best artist who paints with his dick. I'll give him that.

Oh yeah, he's also a kickass poet. His use of "ware", "Virgina" and "cloths" really makes you think.

Spam-A-Lot, Week 7

IT'S TUESDAY, THEREFORE IT'S TIME FOR SPAM! That's my plan in 2008: updating the Spam Chart every Tuesday. We'll see how that goes. So far, I've already missed one Tuesday. What do I have to say about that? Nothing, I'll let the spam do the talking for me: "Moreover it is good it a little to make more thickly."

Yes. Yes, it is.

The most notable movement on the chart this week involved Rolex/Luxury Watches and OEM Software, with the former vaulting to the #2 spot and the latter dropping its output for the third consecutive week (down to only 15 spam from 58) and ending up at #6. Tragic news for fans of OEM software, indeed.

Bank Scam, Earn Your Degree and Holiday/Last Minute Shopping returned after a one-week sabbatical, joined by Dating Site and Buy Shoes as the new faces on the chart.

Two freshmen categories did not return for their sophomore engagements: Get Approved and The World Book Is Here. Notably absent from the chart now two weeks in a row: Legal Pot, View Your Kitty Card and Tax Refund from IRS. Sadly, both Personal Pussy and Bigger/Better Boobs dropped off the chart -- not a good sign, if you ask me.

Chart time!

SPAM WATCH WEEK SEVEN
420 emails
BMS = 47% (down 6%)

((1/1)) -- 197 Boner Medication (30 MegaDick, 41 Viagra/Cialis)
((2/6)) -- 64 Rolex/Luxury Watches
((3/3)) -- 36 Canadian/Online Pharmacy
((4/5)) -- 26 Online Casino
((5/2)) -- 16 Foreign Gibberish (0 German)
((6/4)) -- 15 OEM Software
((6/7)) -- 15 Inspecific “Look at this!”
((8/11)) -- 8 Validate Your Identity (eBay, PayPal, etc.)
((9/13)) -- 6 Human Growth Hormone
((10/7)) -- 5 Weight Loss (Anatrim)
((10/8)) -- 5 Would You Like to Chat?
((10/12)) -- 5 Stop Smoking
((10/13)) -- 5 Improve Your Health
((10/--)) -- 5 Holiday/Last Minute Shopping
((15/13)) -- 3 Pheromones
((16/--)) -- 2 Dating Site: You Have Messages/Interested Ladies
((16/--)) -- 2 Earn Your Degree
((18/13)) -- 1 Here Is a Video (w/attachment, Angelina porn this time)
((18/12)) -- 1 Stock News
((18/13)) -- 1 Employee Search
((18/--)) -- 1 Buy Shoes
((18/--)) -- 1 Bank Scam (Nigerian & otherwise)

KEY:
BMS = Boner Medication Saturation
((this week's rank/last week's rank))
-- = new to the chart this week

Well, I Knew They Weren't Born...

THE INTERNET IS AN EXCELLENT SOURCE OF ACCURATE INFO, as everyone knows. And I don't just mean Wikipedia. There's also random people's websites filled with all kinds of great information, like how the planes didn't really fly into the World Trade Center on 9/11 and how the towers were brought down intentionally by demolitions experts.

It's so simple people! The clues are all there! Never mind that logic tells you that theory MUST be bonkers. Never mind that! Ignore that! What did logic ever do for you anyway, huh?

With accuracy like that all over the Interweb, it should come as no surprise to anyone, that YouTube has the lowdown on Jews.



Now, I haven't watched this video yet. But I am excited that I can "do it myself"! I've always wanted to build a Jew, but I just didn't know where to start.

Thank you, YouTube! And thank you, too, Internets! How did I ever get along without you?

The Beards Go On

I AM ON STRIKE. I don't mean this in any hyperbolic way. I mean it literally. As a member of the Writers Guild of America, I have been on strike since the beginning of November. If you don't know exactly what we're striking for, just read the papers and believe what the producers and studio execs are saying. (Because why would they lie?)

We are striking to destroy Hollywood.

Once we have accomplished that, we'll go back to what we normally do. For me and more than half of the WGA members, that means going back to being an unemployed writer. Trust me, it's wayyyyy more dignified than "striking writer." Also, it requires far less exercise, but (luckily) the same amount of Xbox.


As it happens, I made a decision during the first week of the strike that I had no idea would be so popular. With people other than my mother, that is. That decision? To put my razor on strike as well, and to grow a "strike beard." More on this particular beard a little later. When I decided to stop shaving, in perhaps my bravest moment as an adult male, I had no idea just how popular my decision would be...until this very evening. The evening of the return of the late night talk show hosts.

Let us for a moment put aside Jay Leno and Craig Ferguson, and speak only of Conan and Dave. Actually, I will not speak. I will let the pictures speak.


Coincidence? That seems unlikely. It must have been design. I must have been in cahoots with Conan and Dave. Or, at the very least, as lazy and unwilling to shave as they were.

Conan even referred to his as a "strike beard," much as I did, mere moments ago in this very blog. So, I was ahead of the curve...or at least exactly in sync with the curve. Okay, I admit that Conan and Dave show an ability to grow a full and complete beard whereas I can't muster much more than a sad adolescent-seeming attempt at facial hair. I admit it. I will also admit that my nephew, who is 23, can grow a fuller more convincing beard, and has been able to do so since he was 17. In fact, he can do it in under a week.

My beard, on the other hand, the beard of a 41-year-old, is still patchy and thin, even after over two months. It is also much grayer than I'd hoped for. As a bonus, it inspired my mother to say, "You look like a terrorist!" So mission accomplished on that front.

All that aside, I feel I'm making my point, as a writer on strike. This beard is a threat, producers, and it's not going away until there's a fair deal on the table.

Yeah! Take THAT!