These have to be the gayest cleansing wipes on the market (and I do mean that in a fabulously loving way):

Adventures in Signage, Pt. 11

A city of Nutter's.

Would you like regular or premium terror, boss?

There was a sale on white sheets at KKK-Mart downtown. Really.

Because cats are known to crave ice cream?

"I beg you, please let Mary-Lou free! She has so much to mount and tumble!"

Adventures in Signage, Pt. 10

Her experience.

There's nothing like starting your morning with a $2 scorn and coffee breakfast.

Anyone else notice that this looks like the female reproductive system? Women might be more likely to buy the stationery kit, I guess, and this is somewhat subliminal. But geez, the stamp is the vagina!

I know "female" refers to the connector, but that seems a little weird to me. Oh well, at least it's not labeled a "woman." I'd have to get all consciousness-raising and "Gender is a social construct!" up in Best Buy. Again.

It's the old Republican Dude Recession Special at my neighborhood grocery store!

You Got Served (An English Lesson)




I'ma admit it - every time I hear "Let It Burn," I have to stop what I'm doing, even when I'm listening to it at work on headphones via Pandora Radio. As a wise man by the name of Lil Jon, once said, "Usher got the beat to make yo booty go [clap]."

I'm still working on that move actually, but yaknowI'msayin?

But. There is almost nothing I like about "Love In This Club." It sounds like that "Bed" song that twelve-year-old Jing has on her cellphone, the one that I think is inappropriate for her age. The one that sounds so dissonant that I know I'm getting old.

Usher, you're not who you used to be. You're married now and a father, too. Though it's been "fifty-leven days" and "umpteen hours" since I sorta thought you were cool, I have to give you props for one thing:

You said "THIS" club, not "THE" or "DA" club.

At last! Someone in hip pop who realizes there's more than one place to get your freak on where urrbody get tipsy. There are many clubs, and Usher, you want to make love in one in particular.

I hope this sets a precedent. You go, boy.

Adventures in Signage, Pt. 9

The Sex and the City hullabaloo died down rather quickly, but here's another topical ad from Manhattan Mini Storage. "Me likey!"

I'm pretty sure my gynecologist used this "jelly knife" on me during my last annual exam. The packaging copy reads:

Shaped To "Get-It-All"
Under The Lip
On The Sides
In The Corners

This men's shampoo is out to seek vengeance on dandruff. The one for male pattern baldness is called Compensate.

Because Brooklyn Museum employees used to just kick down the door?

Please tell me she's been set up with the Hoochie Coochie Man.

Adventures in Signage, Pt. 8

There's nothing all that weird about this sign, but notice there's no door at the store entrance? That's because it's in a shopping mall. A shopping mall! What better place to get a dangerous weapon with which to kill people in a violent rage than a shopping mall? The same one with all the people you want to kill in a violent rage.

Is naming a urology practice after a river akin to putting a waterfall in a bathroom or taunting a friend who really has to pee with a whitewater rafting memory? I think so.

A product with a name that suggests the effects of its consumption. See also: Why I'll never eat at Blimpie's.

I wouldn't say it's all Amanda, but I, too, am semi-open.

How cool to be a guy and visit your folks on Heyson Road...

I don't know about Jesus, but I love punny Bible thumpers.

I know Christmas is over and not a moment too soon, but I have to share a picture of an ornament I saw over my Texas vacation. I think it is the only piece of Christmas paraphernalia throughout time that has indicated that Santa Claus has a buttcrack. A very jolly buttcrack.

Life Coach, formerly known as Head Honcho, emailed
this to me yesterday. I then shared it with some co-workers who all happen to be detail-oriented editors, analysts, and writers.

We all laughed. You will, too.

I have to wonder what makes this masculine Pocky. Does it have hair in it? Does it induce great amounts of gas? Does it come with some kind of malted milk balls?

Have you enjoyed the cornucopia of idiocy that is Yahoo! Answers? If not, I highly recommend it. Here's a titillating topic for you:

Question submitted by Asker:
Do you eat the peel of a kiwi?
Or are you suppost to peel it

Best Answer (chosen by Asker):
You can peel it, you can scoop out the fruit and eat it with a spoon. You can eat the peel , it will not harm you, but it does not have the best taste. Some people do eat the peel and enjoy it.If you do eat the peel, make sure to scrub it clean prior to eating it( as you would with any edible peel).

Asker's Comment:
Thats what I figured. My boyfriend & daughter were debating this last night & I always like to "pole the people" =)

Some idiot told me if I wanted to eat something brown & fuzzy I should shoot myself. I bet he doesnt have many girlfriends! LOL

More Answers:
When I lived in New Zealand we would cut the kiwi fruit in half and then use a spoon to eat out the insides. The peel provided to be a nice little "cup" to eat out of. Very nice breakfast snack. I've also seen some restaurants slice kiwis and leave the skin on for color.

Its your choice but normally people dont eat the peel.

Good question. I always liked kiwis, but could never figure out the easiest way to eat them.

hell no, i dont think that the outside of a kiwi was meant to be eaten, not where i come from, now if you were an animail, i would say "yea," eat the breaks off it, otherwise, not so.

My boyfriends grandmother ate the peel, and she got an allergic reaction to it.

My advice, don't eat it.

i ate it once and almost died

I've heard you can eat the peel so if you can get past the fuzziness of it, go for it!

"pole" people sounds painful. Instead, I prefer to "poll" people and not eat the skin as well.

If you are desperate and lazy, then go ahead and eat the peel. If you want to be normal and not barbaric, then just eat the green stuff. Oh, don't eat the black seeds. ;-)

I first eat the soft flesh, then I chew the peel up with the remainder of the flesh which gives a more tart flavor, then I usually spit out the peel.

do which ever tastes the best to you! life is short!

I actually enjoy the skin.... & I'm sure it's full of fiber, heh.

I've eaten kiwi for almost 20 years by washing the outside, cutting off/biting off the "stem" end, and eating the rest of the kiwi. The skin doesn't have the best taste but, I acquired a taste for eating it!

Yea, you only eat the peel. The green stuff inside is gross.

Eat it :) ... I love the skin of the kiwi .. and it's so good for you!

I like the peel. While the fuzz is harsher than that of a peach, I think the peel adds depth to the overall flavor of the kiwi. The inside is so smooth and sweet, I find the bitter rougher peel a nice compliment. After washing, I just cut off the ends and eat it like an apple.

don't be crazy!!!! that peel will make your tongue itch!!!! it's worse than that pineapple itchy-tongue feeling!!!!

It is actually more healthier is you eat the skin, it has more fiber. I have always ate the peel just because there was never a trash can around or i wasnt outside. Anyway you look at it, its a kiwi

skin has a bad taste.

peel it , the cover isn't what you want

Adventures in Signage, Pt. 7

My neighbor's car. His name is - well, I'll give you three guesses.


Insulting is the new catchy? Ahem! Smart has always been sexy, mmkay? Just ask the construction workers who yelled, "Hi, sexy mami!" to me as I snapped this shot in the name of journalism.


Cigarettes? Congestion? Too perfect. Smoking is evil, kids.


I don't think you'd ever see a car horn manufacturer using the word "honkies" in its business, but perhaps I'm naive. This sign made me stop in my tracks. Cade turned around and looked at me quizzically. "Look - whiteys!" I explained. He looked around at our fellow pedestrians - we were near chichi ABC Carpet & Home - and said, "Yeah, so?" Then I showed him the sign.


Gag. (No gross pun intended). I hate the lame phallic slogans and such you see at some overpriced hot dog places.


And then I began to wonder how I took a wrong turn and landed in Wisconsin.

Hello, friends.

I meant to blog back in Texas - agreed, intended, and vowed to. But I didn't. Instead, I read a lot and thought a lot and looked around a lot.

And speaking of lots, I went to Big Lots. Twice.

I saw Rap Snacks potato chips, but the tent-sized undergarments were out of stock. I bought multiple flavors of Fruitabu organic fruit leather for a steal, knowing that it's about $6 a box in New York. And two fetching pairs of bronze earrings. I'll kindly relate any fiery skin infections that may result, but have been donning them since I peeled away all sticky traces of the "$4 genuine bronze" label and remain unscathed.

But let me show you some of the more disturbing things I found on sale at Big Lots.

Exhibit A:
My sister is the perfect person to hold these for the camera, as I recall her downing bags of pork skins when we were kids. I personally prefer to not think about how some of the food I eat used to poop, pee, and frolic happily in the green grass. I also think pork skins look suspiciously like those cinnamon twists from Taco Bell, which I adore.

Exhibit B:
In high school, a friend once suggested I seduce a guy with Easy Cheese. She wasn't taking into account that I was 1) pristine and gawkward and 2) I cannot bring myself to eat cheese from a can. Not since 1996 anyway. Cheese coming out of a can is kind of like a baby coming out of Nicole Richie's uterus. There are just too many thoughts of "how," "why," and "this cannot be good." And the fact that it's cream cheese? Blasphemy. Any self-respecting New Yorker would turn his or her nose up.

Exhibit C:
I think the cosmopolitan mystique of Vienna is supposed to make people forget this is a variety meat full of cow and pig effluvia. But it's also quite Americanized with all the alternative flavors, like Cajun style. Mmmm! Now the pig's testicles come with a honey mustard twang! Bon appetit!

You Got Served (An English Lesson)

Aight. So Usher and R. Kelly's joint "Same Girl" is all about how they realize they're dating the - gasp! - same girl. They're catching up on the phone, R. Kelly gushing about this sweet girl who works for TBS who "drive a black Durango, license plate say 'angel.'" Usher realizes he's dating the - gasp! - same girl, and the guys eventually find time to get together and compare cell phone pics of her in her underwear.

So the incorrect grammar in all this is beside the point - I won't go there. But the punctuation error at the very beginning when Usher looks at his vibrating cell phone to see who's calling cannot be ignored. The phone identifies the caller as "KELL'S".

The possessive apostrophe appears to be a major punctuation error. Of course, "KELL'S" might mean "Kell's Cell Phone," but who does that? Certainly not R. Kelly, who has saved Usher in his address book as "Usher".

So Usher, yeah, check yoself.

Each time I go home, I have to visit Big Lots. It's not exactly a dollar store, though many items there sell for merely one greenback. Big Lots is a warehouse of cheap stuff, ranging from leftover merchandise originally sold at Pier 1 Imports to weird-ass snack food items even the shoddiest convenience stores won't stock. For instance, mad cool Rap Snacks Potato Chips:
Available in Southern Crunk Barbeque...

Or a honey barbeque variation. Mmmm, Lil' Romeo likes it!

If you eat enough of these Rap Snacks potato chips, you might need to upgrade to some larger skivvies. Big Lots has you covered (and covered and covered and covered).

Adventures in Signage, Pt. 6

I like to imagine the artist vacillating about the decision to draw poo coming out of the dog's butt. "Should I just paint dots? A stream? An unmistakable wafer of waste? Should it be black, too, or should I differentiate the poo using brown paint?"


You know what the biggest problem facing the world today is?
That's right - human/bird conflicts.


Just drop your awkward teenage daughter off here. Pick her up in about eleven years.


A shout out to my homies.


A shout out to my homes.

I found these laxatives at a Brighton Beach pharmacy. Chocolate Smooth Move is the best laxative name ever, second only to Spring Cleaning.

Adventures in Signage, Pt. 5

I suggest it was Sargent Crabapple, in the billiard room, with the candlestick.

Hardwere? Hardware? Where?

The only wing place I ever frequented (for about a year before coming to my gastronomical senses) has the slogan, "If you don't like our wings, we'll give you the bird!" Too bad Pluck U. didn't think of it first...

One of the more clever laundromat names out there, appropriately located in Cambridge.

Just in case people don't get that this is more or less the place of eventual death of all who enter, let's put lethal amounts of poison at the entrance to the senior center! Great idea!

I'd love to see how they'd compare my underwear drawer to Dick Cheney.