...Everywhere Are Signs...

My commute generally runs between 45 minutes to an hour.  It's not my favorite part of the day.  I have to amuse myself somehow so I don't roll into work in a crappy mood.  I've listened to comedy recordings since I began cancer treatment so I would not be consumed with worry before those doctor visits.  I decided if they got me through that, they could get me through a daily commute.  Some days, however, the comedy writes itself in the things I observe along the road.

There's been rather a lot of construction along my route.  As you'd imagine it slows things more than normal rush hour traffic.  It adds a lot of signage too.

One day as I was crawling along in bumper to bumper traffic I came across this sign.  I was feeling tense from avoiding impatient maniacs on the road so I thought, "Great!  I could really use a good shoulder massage.  My traps are so tight!"

I wasn't concerned about penalties.  I have worked with several very professional massage therapists so I know proper draping prevents any unintentional flashing.  I was getting excited now.  I'd be so relaxed by the time I arrived at work nothing would rattle me.

Then I saw this sign.  Wait!  What?  Back up just a second here! No one even started on my shoulders yet!  Way to get me anticipating  some relaxation then make me do a U-turn.  I was feeling as if false promises had been made and I was none too happy about it.

Fortunately I passed this sign.  So I guess all hope of some sort of help unwinding wasn't lost.

Cheeky Slice of Lime

I told you yesterday how Snavy and I walked through the Harvard campus hoping to somehow stimulate out intellect. I also told you I was pretty sure it didn't work on me. Here you see evidence of my doltishness before the stroll through Harvard.

Below is the evidence occurring after the stroll. Snavy and I both noticed the defaced sign at the same time. I complied with its directive and so I offer my "ass stance."

Signs, signs, everwhere are signs

I had to go pay my homeowners insurance the other day. As I stood waiting for a clerk I noticed a sign on the wall that read...

Hhhmmm, my knee jerk response to that is...I will rot away to nothing while the worms feed on me. Somehow I don't think that is the answer the agents are hoping for though.

Then I went to the grocery store where I saw a sign advertising 'Roguefort' cheese on sale.

Now I know Roquefort is made in special bat guano filled caves in France (those French, I tell ya). I just want to ask Lecram and APJ if Roguefort is some sort of cheese produced during a fringe performance in some cave in Fresno.




A friend of mine said he recently went to an orchard with his family. While there they noticed a sign for...

Why do I imagine a woman in stilettos, with big hair and heavy make-up, wearing a tacky leopard print mini dress working the cider press? And do we even want to imagine the kinds of diseases you could get from that cider?





Finally, Margee shared a sign she saw at a local pet shop.

Is the Lord was commanding us to liberate rodents and reptiles in preparation for His return?