You Stay Classy, New Jersey

So I got this postcard in the mail recently. It's an ad for a local limo company.

Now, first off, let me just say that I'm well aware that I live in New Jersey. And secondly, let me point out that I'm also well aware that Jersey has never been seen as the repository of what you'd call ... oh, let's say ... "good taste."

(Though to be fair, Jersey might be in a flat-footed tie with Long Island for that particular honor. But until LI has an MTV reality show that can rival Jersey Shore in terms of sheer class and decorum ... well, I'm going to have to give my adopted home state the edge here.)

So anyhow, I get it.

But you never quite expect it to show up in your mailbox.

OH YEAH, BABY!

And what could be better than a stretch limo?

A stretch, HUMMER limo, of course!

Badda-BING!

And what could possibly be better than a stretch, Hummer limo?

A PINK, stretch Hummer limo!

Fuggedaboudit!!

Nothing says "classy night on the town with the girls" quite like it.

But what's even more classy than that?

Check out the stamp.

Yeah.

One of the many things they're directly murdering with their pink, stretch, Hummer limos. Which, by the way, run on baby polar bear blood. It's Science.

Nice work, Jersey.

You stay classy.


Till next we meet ...

Why Don't Stick Figures Go To The Gym? (Stick Figures In Peril)

Well, obviously it's because of all the PINCH POINTS!

Also, this may well explain why Stick Figures tend not to have any fingers to speak of.

Ow.


Till next we meet ...

A Fool's Errands (Monday, 2/22/10)

1) Greenlight another Kirstie Alley TV show about how being fat is something that she often is.

2) Continue working on that eerily lifelike, full-size butter sculpture of Jon Gosselin. Oh! Mr. Gosselin! I'm so sorry! That's actually you! I'm so embar--! Hey, what did you do with all my butter? Oh.

3) Try to retrieve your house keys from Gary Busey's mouth without him snapping off one or more of your fingers with his terrifying, giant teeth.

4) Sprinkle rock salt on driveway.

5) Once and for all, hush the nay-sayers by personally proving your theory that hybrid cars are really the result of regular cars mating with you.

Stick Figures In Peril!

Oh, the Stick Figures!

Oh, the Peril!

Today, it's a study in contrasts. America vs. Europe. Which one is tougher? Whose Stick Figures can take more Peril?

1) To start, let's take the standard American "Wet Floor" sign. It's a classic of the Stick Figure in Peril genre.


The thing about this, though, is that this Stick Figure doesn't appear to be in all that much Peril. He seems to be sitting down rather gently, actually. There's a relaxed air about things. Almost casual. Pretty chill, really.

But ...

Drop some classic, old school, beat-box jams ... and this b-boy just might bust some dope downrock moves. As my grandfather always used to say: "One man's 'slipping-on-wet-floor-and-injuring-his-spine' is another man's 'sweet-ass one-handed airbaby'."

(That was around the time we put him in a home.)


2) Anyhow, as you might imagine, in Europe they do things a little differently. That's what makes them so Europe-y, after all.

But it might surprise you to discover just how hardcore they can be about this sort of thing.

Here's some free advice: If a European tells you the floor is wet ... well, you better listen up, yank. Cuz they're not fucking around.

Case in point ...


This particular floor is so wet ... that it seems to be about TEN FEET UNDERWATER.

The squiggly line, after all, is the international symbol for water level. That's SCIENCE.

And upon closer inspection, there's a good chance the water's even deeper than that. According to the proportions of this sign, Europeans clearly seem to be enormous. They've outgrown their triangles!

I'm sure it's got something to do with the metric system and socialized medicine.


3) But in the end, the momentum shifts back to the U.S. in the "Whose-Got-More-Peril" game.

Especially when we get to this guy.

Why?


Because he's about to get into a New York City cab.

Game. Set. Match.

Suck it, Europe.



Till next we meet ...

Yup. It's A Thing That Exists In The World.

Here 'tis in my hot, little fist.


Neat!

But howzabout some credit where it isn't really due?

Bam!



Though like I said before, I didn't really do anything to deserve this. But Alan and David, the Producers who actually ... you know ... made the movie were kind enough to have me along for the ride anyhow. Thanks again, guys!


Till next we meet ...

Stick Figures in Peril!

OH NO, STICK FIGURE! LOOK OUT!

IT'S PERIL!

1) And it's coming straight for your ankles! TIMMM-BURRRRR!


It's just so tragic.

There he'd stood for so many years. So beautiful. So majestic.

And now look at him. Felled like a 200-year-old redwood. Ruthlessly chopped down in his prime.

He never saw it coming.

The horror.

The horror.


2) But when Peril comes a-knocking ... THIS GUY knows what to do.


That's RIGHT! You run your ASS OFF!

When Peril's headed his way, this guy's got the good sense to flee from danger as fast as his sharpened, footless legs will carry him! (Unlike SOME people we could mention.)

When the shit goes down, stick close to this guy.

But try to stay next to him. If you hang out behind him ... well, you'll probably be on fire. So, you know, try to keep up.


Till next we meet ...

Not Old. Well Seasoned.

The elderly ...


Apparently they're delicious.


Till next we meet ...