Terrible Analogies

This new gadget appeared on our snack machine at work over the weekend:

Sure, go ahead and charge that 75¢ bag of Doritos to my credit card.  Yeah, this doesn’t look sketchy at all.

I wonder what the fees are to use this thing?  This system doesn’t even require proof that the credit card you’re using belongs to you.  There’s no keypad.  No signature required.  Nice.

This is a sign of the times I guess.  In a world of instant gratification, devices like these cater to those with less will power than smarts.  It takes advantage of those who can’t control their dire urge for a Snickers bar yet don’t have two quarters to rub together.

Hey, if you really need those yogurt covered pretzels so bad, I’ll loan you the change to get ‘em…and I won’t charge you an added fee.

We had a lunch meeting today with food provided by Peking Palace of San Diego.

There we were, twenty of us crammed in a meeting room greedily shoveling plastic spoonfuls of Chinese food into our quivering maws when somebody in the back row said, “Uh, hey guys.  I just found a roach in my food.”

Instantly the room grew quiet.  For a few fleeting seconds you could hear a pin drop.

Only three times in the history of the world has a room grown so quiet so quickly:

-  During grace at the last supper
-  When the Space Shuttle Challenger exploded during takeoff
-  The moment before the O.J. Simpson verdict was read

This, my friends, was more intense than all three of those moments put together.

Slowly, en masse, we turned to face the source of the disturbing news.  Chairs squeaked and complained as we each stood up and approached the meal in question.  There, proudly perched on plastic tines, was one very dead (and very well done) cockroach.  Which wouldn’t be so bad had we ordered Beef & Broccoli & Cockroach, but alas we did not.

If you happen to enjoy marinated insects in your food, then definitely hit up Peking Palace, where their army of classically trained chefs can whip up a protein-infused Roach & Rice dish in a matter of minutes.

Be sure to tip your waiter.

There’s been a string of bank robberies down in Southern California, all perpetrated by an individual that the media has dubbed “The Geezer Bandit“.  This elderly bank robber isn’t afraid of being videotaped while holding up banks, and nobody has been lucky enough to catch a glimpse of him on the outside as he makes his getaway.

All of this makes people believe that The Geezer Bandit isn’t an old man at all, but rather an individual wearing a mask.

My question to the FBI is this:  Has anyone checked out this site?  In particular have you studied their masked called “The Elder”?

Here are a few of the photos of The Geezer Bandit in action:

And here is a photo of “The Elder” mask:

Gee…I don’t know about you, but the wrinkles, chin, nose and ears look surprisingly identical.  Could our bank robber be wearing this mask during his heists, then when out of visual contact duck behind a car or building, peel off this mask, then simply blend in with the crowd?

Now, I may not be an FBI agent with years and years of training under my belt, but if I can see the similarities between this mask and facial characteristics of The Geezer Bandit, then I would hope that the authorities could as well.

You have to hand it to SPFXMasks for their amazingly life-like product.  Watching their videos, it’s surprising that more criminals aren’t using these to conceal their identities.

I spotted these pamphlets during my recent trip to my doctor.  I’ve never seen so many people happy about being afflicted with heart disease and high cholesterol:

If I had irritable bowels, the last thing I’d be doing is having my smiling mug advertising my unfortunate plight for all the world to see.

Whatever.  Happy Friday!

I don’t know what prompted me to take this picture, but there it was, hiding in a dark alcove on my camera’s memory card, stamped with a date of 02/23/09.  Perhaps I was going to make a subtle yet effective parallel between the substandard educational system and the dearth of viable political candidates in recent elections.  Or perhaps this gentleman simply reminded me of my hippie sister who lives in San Francisco and her disconcerting habit of pulling out her hair and eating it.

Regardless, whatever urge that prompted me to grab my camera and take a picture of this fellow has long since slipped from my mind.  Yet here it remains, forever taunting me:

You, sir, are one sexy beast.  Don’t ever let anyone tell you differently.