See You In The Funny Pages

No, I'm not closing down the blog.  I'm just going to tell you about two comic strips that I've stumbled across recently that may bring a smile to your face and a little laughter to your sick, twisted, demented heart.

Coincidentally, they both reuse artwork.

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The first one is called Last Kiss.  John Lustig, a former comic book writer for Disney, bought the rights to some old romance comic books, and rewrote the dialog and had them re-colored.  I guess this is what happens you write Donald Duck stories.  After a while, your mind kind of… SNAPS!

Here's a few examples:

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The second one is called That Is Priceless (@ Go Comics) / That is Priceless (@ blogspot).  Steve Melcher has won two Emmys for comedy writing.  He's taken some great masterworks, and retitled them for the modern day.

		These two were Cora's favorites.

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See, recycling isn't just for those damn dirty hippies.

Happy Anniversary

So, I haven't been blogging as much these days, but this summer, I totally let two big ones slip by.  I didn't even realize I'd missed it until recently.  The thing is, the kind of bookended my 3rd wedding anniversary, so I totally flaked.

25 years ago, July 1, 1988 – I moved to the Chicago area.

25 years ago, July 5, 1988 – I started my first real job working for Arthur Andersen.

I still remember the move up:

• Hot as blazes, hauling my stuff up to a 3rd floor walkup.
• I moved everything up in a pickup truck and hatchback (now it would take 2 moving trucks)
• I had a 9" color TV, a C-64, a king sized waterbed, and 3 suits.
• Having to go to the gas station to use the payphone.
• The radio station, 97X, was doing a stunt called "Topless Weather" from their rooftop ("Tar Beach") with a buxom listener going to the edge of the roof, and reading the weather.

I still remember those first days of work:

• Hot as blazes, heading downtown in my suit and tie.
• Living of Patio frozen burritos and Lean Cuisines.
• Not knowing a soul at the office.
• Losing my wallet and train pass (link).

Life's really changed tons since those days.  It's seems like yesterday, but it was really half a lifetime ago.  The best part about being that guy at that time?  Those times and those experiences led me to where I am today.  And if I knew then where I'd be now, the then me would be stoked.

And I would tell him to buy Apple stock @ under $10.00 a share.

Flag–You're It!

Does your city/town have a flag?  Most medium and up sizes cities seem to.  It's a form of civic branding, I guess.

And some brands images are just stronger than others.

I live in Chicago, and we have a pretty good flag.

There's all kinds of symbolism in the blue and white stripes, and each star stands for an event and each point a virtue.  Yada-yada-yada.  (Link for details.)

And I'm the only one who thinks so, the North American Vexillological Association conducted a survey in 2004, and Chicago came in second.  And then there's the vote of the residents.  To say you see the Chicago city flag everywhere is an understatement.  And I'm not simply talking in front of city hall and on police uniforms, either.  I mean everywhere.

You see it on all kinds of clothing and decorations and tattoos.

And you see its motif riffed all over the place, too:

	This one is for you, Joshua.

It's so common, that a few months ago, when I was talking about how ugly the Illinois flag is, Cora was confused.  I was talking about how it looked like it was drawn by a 5th grader.  I started talking about the clunky eagle and the rock, and it became clean quick that we weren't talking about the same flag.  She'd just seen the Chicago one all over the place, and hadn't see the Illinois one:

that she just presumed that it was the state flag.

But no matter how ugly your city flag is, it's probably not the hot mess that is Chicago's neighbor to the north Milwaukee.

I mean, that would hurt like a mofo to get tattooed on your bicep.

Logan's Rum

I know I posted this last week on Facebook, but for both of you who read here but not there, and to provide a little backstory (and to put some decent content out on the blog), I'd thought I'd repost it here.

So, the other evening, after another long day in a string of long days, I was riding the L home.  The 30 something across the way had a blue re-useable shopping bag with a logo for a charity even called "Logan's Run".

I remember thinking, "It's so tough, it will kill anyone over 30."  And I wondered if she even knew of the movie that the bag was riffing on.

And then I thought, "I could sure use some 'Logan's Rum' about now.".  Sandman myself.

Not having my own distillery, this is the best that I could brew up.  It was harder to find a decent looking booze bottle to mod than you would expect.  All had horrible watermarks all over them.

Smooth Move, EX-LAX

Have you ever played the French card game, Mille Bourne?  As you drive along, you can either advance your cause my playing mileage, or you can try to thwart your opponents with a "hazard" card.

But, you run the risk of having that attack ricochet back on you in the form of a "coup-fourre".  I recently saw someone coup-fourre themselves.  He didn't have to do it.  He'd been warned to change his approach, but in the end, he was the source of his own doing.

Hoisted on his own petard if you will.

Now I know what you're thinking, "What did Cora's EX do this time."  Nope, not him.  He's been quiet as of late.  (And he has read this blog on occasion, so there's that, too.)

No, this is about a temporary boss I had.  He only "worked" at my company for about 4 months.  And by that I mean, "collected a paycheck" not "was in his office performing any actual work."  In 4 months, I'm certain he didn't put in one full week of 5 X 7 hour days.  (Yeah, 7 hour days.)

Now, I'm reporting to a friend of mine who I've known across 3 companies for about 23 years.  Not too excited about this.  Now we've each lost the one person at work who we could safely bitch to.  And there's a big project that's behind schedule because of the previous boss, and she's trying to get it back on track, and I'm already working from 8:00 to 6:00, and things are only going to get worse.

Sigh.

Tag–You're It!

So, you ever have one of those "skin tag" things?  You know, one of those annoying little flaps of skin?  What did you do ignore it?  Take action?

Until very recently (less than 2 hours at the time of writing this) I had a skin tag.

In that crease where your @$$ turns into the back of your leg.  I could sort of reach it, butt needed a mirror to see it.  It was decent sized.  Like a pencil eraser, not one of those little "grain of rice" sized ones.

It's been a pain in the, well, a pain in the place it's located for a couple of years, butt recently, I've decided it needed to go.

So, first we tried freezing it off with liquid nitrogen.  That really made it angry and sore.

So Saturday, I tried to take matters into my own hands.  With a set of nail scissors.

I got some of it.  And a bloody mess with the rest.

So Sunday, Cora and I went to Target and got a more "industrial" set of loppers to take this thing off in one snip.

At least that was there theory.

So, Sunday afternoon, the bravest woman in the world went after the skin tag with the loppers.  She wasn't really HAPPY about this, butt she cowgirled up and…

SNIP!

I felt a zing in my leg and knew two things:

1. She'd made it thru the nerve core.
2. She didn't make it all the way thru.
3. It was bleeding pretty good.
4. I had forgotten how to count.

Second snip.  Nearly Headless Nick was still hanging on.

Third snip: with the skin tag still in the pinch, I jerked away and the little bugger ripped off.

And the blood flowed.

Cora was a bit shaken, butt she performed like a champion.  And now that the bleeding has stopped, most of the tenderness has also subsided.

So I only have one question:  Can I take the bloody loppers back to Target for a refund?  I think the return clerk won't ask too many questions if they look like a murder weapon.

A Plate In My Head

I usually walk around with 1 or 2 cameras with me at all times (phone + point-n-shoot in bag), but sometimes it seems to be too much of a hassle to pull one out just for a mildly amusing shot.

And then there are other times that are totally worth it.

Recently, I've seen three license plates that REQUIRED a picture.

This first one, I saw parked along the street in my neighborhood.

Not a car I want to ding in the parking lot of an Italian restaurant.  And I'm sure it freaks out the valet who has to start it.

This second one I saw on the street when we were out in Seattle (hence mountains and a Washington plate).  Luckily, I had my "better than a dash cam" wife Cora riding shotgun, who was able to snap this pic in traffic.

In case you can't read that it says:

Now, that's a sentiment that needs to be heard by our next driver.  Once again, Cora was quick on the draw and snapped this one before they got away:

In case you can't read that it says:

"F* O.P.E.C, too" on a Prius.  Well played on slipping that one past the Secretary of States office censors.

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I know I've seen a bunch of other pretty good ones, and I'll try to make the effort to get the shots in the future. Promise.

It's Time We Came Clean About Something

(This is not a sponsored post.  But if Cascade wants to email me a coupon or two…)

I didn't grow up with a dishwasher.  We kids did it.  One would was.  Another dry.  One of my grandma's had a dishwasher, and I always remember how cloudy and etched her glasses always were.

Recently, we'd started having a problem with our dishes being cloudy.  I think they changed the formulation of my Cascade gel to make it friendlier for the environment. 

Now listen, we do a lot for the environment.  We use public transportation all the time.  We recycle.  We wash our clothes in cold water.  Is it too mush to ask the environment to let me eat off of dishes that don't have a cloudy film on them?  (Total first world rant, I know.)

We'd tried a couple of different soaps.  Some worked a little better, but the only way to get the glasses to really shine was to do them by hand.

Listen, it's 2013.  I've got a machine to do this drudgery, and to do it properly, and by gum, it's going to pull it's weight around here.

So Cora and I took a chance of some of those expensive Cascade Platinum gel packs that they've been touting on TV.  I mean, if commercials have taught me anything, it's that a "NEW & IMPROVED!" super premium product has to be at least marginally better than the base product.

And the dishes came out amazing.  The glasses where clear.  The plates had no dull film.  The silverware sparkled.

After the first wash.

And the routine "failures" of dishes that needed to be rewashed or hand washed have almost disappeared.

Are the dishes perfect?  No.  But I don't expect them to be.  Are the dishes a whole heck of a lot brighter and shinier?  Oh, you better believe it.

And hopefully whatever they are using in this doesn't get found to harm too many things in the environment, because I'm warning you, I'll start using paper plates and Styrofoam cups and really kick the environment in the twig and berries before going back to cloudy dishes.

And 3 Years Ago…

What were you doing 3 years ago?  I know what I was doing.  I was doing the smartest and easiest thing imaginable:

I married the most amazing woman that I'd ever met.

At the time I thought I could never be happier or more in love…

But I was wrong.  I'm happier and more in love every.single.day.

Cora, you brought with you the sweetest, most amazing daughter.  It's not just our anniversary, it's OUR ANNIVERSARY, the three of us.  And I wouldn't change a thing.

So last night, tonight, and all the tomorrow nights forever, when I get up, and walk across the room and give you a kiss for "no reason", there's always a reason.

I was 40 years old, and had given up hope on finding "The One".  And then I found you and our daughter, and I realized I found "The Two".  Those kisses are just my way (part of my way) of telling you,

"Thank you for saving me."

Newly Defined "High & Tight"

When I saw this ad on my Facebook sidebar, I couldn't butt help to think of Skydad.  No, not in that way.  (Well, not too much anyhow… )

Yes, underwear designed to lift those rusting buns of steel.

And at least it's a "Y" on your @$$.  Because "X" marks the spot.  (Unless you are in to that sort of thing…)

And you don't want that!

From their website:

This one is called "Gigolo Joe"	And for the ladies, this is the "Gia"

As Cora pointed out, that gal doesn't have much of a booty to work with, and I really can't tell that it's doing that much for her.

And, while it's not like having a slap bracelet between your cheeks, I'd be pickin' and diggin' all day long.

Welcome Back To Chicago, Lord Stanley

Congratulations to the Chicago Blackhawks, and well played, Boston.

Jacked Up Commercial

I don't know if they are running this commercial everywhere, so I 've got a couple of questions:

How evil are the parents that after the haircut disaster they:

• They take him to a professional photographer for a portrait.
• They pose him with the missing swath prominently displayed.
• They buy and hang a 6 X 8 picture.
• Provide tacit approval of the younger brother's mockery.

I bet he still wets the bed.

Angus: A Load of B.S.?

The other day, I noticed that McDonald's pulled their Angus burgers off their menu in flavor of some doctored up Quarter Pounders.  Good.

Because, seriously, an Angus burger makes as much sense as a Kobe Beef Hotdog.

And what is "Angus" vs. "Black Angus" vs. "Certified Angus".

First off, Angus is a breed of cattle raided for their beef.  (As apposed to dairy cattle, which are raised for their milk.)  There are plenty of other breeds of beef cattle, like Simmental, Hereford, and Limousins.  And there are actually 2 Angus: Red & Black.

Angus does not denote quality.

Basically, for a cow to be Angus beef, it needs to be at least 51% Angus.  That's it.  Same for Black Angus, it has to be 51% black.

Guess what?  Most beef cattle in the United States meet this criteria.  Most of your USDA graded meat is Angus or an Angus mix (if hamburger).

To be "Certified Angus Beef" the cow must be at least 51% black, "exhibit Angus influence", and meet these 10 criteria:

• Modest or higher degree of marbling
• Medium or fine marbling texture
• "A" maturity (about 9 – 30 months)
• 10 to 16 square-inch rib-eye area
• Less than 1,000-pound hot carcass weight
• Less than 1-inch fat thickness
• Moderately thick or thicker muscling
• No hump on the neck exceeding 5 cm (2")
• Practically free of capillary rupture
• No dark cutting characteristics
• Usually black or red in color

(That's right, "Certified Angus" is racist, and prohibits Red Angus from being included.)

So, with "Certified Angus Beef", you're getting some tender, young, well marbled (juicy) beef.  Which is important for steak, but not as important for something processed thru a meat grinder.

And with "USDA Prime" you're getting some tender, young, well marbled (juicy) beef that may well be Angus.  Without the marketing hype.

The skill of the chef plays a huge part in how the steak turns out.  A hack can turn the best steak in the world into inedible shoe leather and a chef can turn an average piece of meat into a fabulous dish.  And if you want to grill a juicy burger, just go with the 75% lean all-ready.  Save the low fat stuff for later.

So, does Angus really matter?  Maybe.  If you have super tasted buds, a discerning palate, and a trained chef to expertly prepare it.  Otherwise, Prime is prime, Choice is second choice, and Select isn't.

Now, let the grilling begin.

So, REALLY, Don't Tug On Superman's Cape. REALLY

I haven't seen the movie yet, but I enjoyed this scientific explanation of what would actually happen if Superman hit you in the face as hard as he could.

Spoiler:  It's REALLY bad for you.

And everyone in the metro area.

Have a good weekend and appreciate Dad while you're at it.

Friday Funny–Sad Dog Diary

Okay, yesterday I was a little grim, and at the time of writing this, 0 Comments.  So, I figure I'd lighten things up a little and start your weekend off right.  If these videos don't set you up for a good weekend, I think your funny bone might be defective.

You MUST have the sound on, so if you are at work, put some head phones on.

The line "Cat says this is how the devil buys souls..." killed me.  Just killed me.

And I love how people are referred to as "the Authorities" by the cat.

Have a good weekend.