It is a thousand times better to have common sense without education than to have education without common sense.

Robert Green Ingersoll

It’s happened again.  Another School administration took their brains out of their heads to play with, and then forgot where they left them.

Last month a Maryland second grader was suspended for two days because, he apparently chewed off pieces of the toaster pastry he was eating, and fashioned it into the shape of a gun.  Then according to his teacher he said, “Bang, Bang.”  This comes on the heals of a 5 year old girl in Pennsylvania being suspended from kindergarten for pointing her Hello Kitty bubble gun at  another student and allegedly threatening to shoot her.

My first reaction after reading these stories was anger and disbelief.  I wondered, “How can people be so stupid?!”   But the more I read and thought about it, all I could do was laugh.  Being outraged about these types of things is only going to raise my already high blood pressure.  Finding the humor in them, is for me a much healthier alternative.  And there are some parts to this story that are hilarious.  Starting with the letter sent home to parents of students at Park Elementary School where the toaster pastry incident took place, it read;

“During breakfast this morning, one of our students used food to make inappropriate gestures that disrupted the class. While no physical threats were made and no one was harmed, the student had to be removed from the classroom.”

“Inappropriate gestures” now that’s funny.  When I was in grade school I couldn’t bring a banana for lunch without making an “Inappropriate gesture” with it.  I would point it at someone like it was a gun and I would point it at someone like it was……. well, use your imagination.  And cut me a break, I was just a kid.  First the teacher would tell me to stop.  If I didn’t stop she would call my parents.  Not because she thought I was making a terrorist threat with a banana but because I was being disrespectful to a teacher.  When I arrived home my dad would give me “The Look” and then ask me if in the future I could please try using my head for something other than a hat rack.  It was his way of saying, “Son, think next time!”  Then we would go out and play a game of catch until dinner.  I don’t remember a news crew from ABC television ever coming to our house to talk to us about it.  And going forward I did my best to fight the urge of pointing my banana at anyone.

This story also states that, the school made a guidance counselor available to kids who had questions.

I don’t know about you, but I would have played that up big time if going to see the school guidance counselor would mean getting me excused from math class.  “Gee wiz Miss Johnson, ever since that pop tart thing happened I have this terrible fear of strawberry preserves.  I’ll probably need to see you the rest of the year.  Make sure our meetings aren’t scheduled during recess would ya?” 

And finally I love the comment the boy’s father made;  “When you compare the caliber of the ‘offense’ to the caliber of the punishment, they don’t match up.”  Caliber?   Did he really just use the word caliber?  As in caliber of a bullet?  I hope he was trying to be funny, but if you watch the video it doesn’t seem that way.  Maybe this family does have an unhealthy fascination with guns.  If this kid comes back to school and chomps a slice of Wonder Bread into the shape of an AK 47 the school might be right.  Maybe there actually is a problem.

However, if you think all of this craziness is a new phenomena, think again.  Here’s a quote from Mark Twain;

I woke this morning and went through my normal routine, or at least the routine that I try to follow daily.

I went to the kitchen, made a cup of coffee, talked to my wife before she left for work, (mostly I just listened, but you get my point) turned on my computer, searched for employment, and finally clicked on MSN.Com to get my morning news.

I normally start by scanning the large boxes, the ones that scroll near the top of the page, until I find something that interests me.  Today there were a number of Oscar stories that I didn’t care too much about.  Also Daytona 500 coverage and an article about 7 crucial moves I should make before retiring.  I assumed that any of the “crucial moves” that needed to be made, first required you to have a job, so I skipped that story.

Next I moved down to the Editors Picks section and discovered that IKEA has been using horse meat in their Swedish meatballs and Iran is upset about the movie Argo winning an Academy Award, as if I care.

Lower on the page under Entertainment  I learned about a Fresh Prince of Bel-Air reunion and under the section titled Living, I had the opportunity to read about a chemical that could give me man boobs.  It’s the truth, I couldn’t make this stuff up.

Not finding anything of interest I scrolled back to the top of the page where there is a complete list of categories.  News, Entertainment, Sports, Money, Living, Local, Autos, Job Search, More, and finally something called NOW.  All of these tabs, when highlighted, come up with sub categories.

I decided to look for what type of pages MSN had devoted to religion.  Primarily I was interested in articles concerning Christianity.  Not seeing anything in the main categories mentioned above, I naturally assumed that I would find religion as one of the sub categories.

Not really sure where to start, I moved my cursor over News.  I found subjects that included Science and Technology, Pop Culture, and and even one called Rumors which confused me because I wouldn’t think that rumors would be considered news, but such are the times we live in I guess. No religion though.  No religion under the Entertainment, Sports,” or Money tabs either.  Under Living there was Style, Sex and Relationships, and even Horoscopes, but still no religion.  Local, Autos, and Job Search came up empty of any reference to religion as did More and NOW, although the NOW section did have some funny as well as disturbing viral videos.  I finally gave up and came to the conclusion that if there is a special section devoted to religious studies it is being well hidden.

This past Christmas a Gallup poll on religion was taken.  The results indicated that 77% of the United States population still identify themselves as Christians.  While that percentage is down from 82% in 2007, it is still quite a significant number.

I began to wonder.  Is there any other interest group that makes up over three quarters of the population which is so completely disregarded?  If over 240 million people living in the United States began to identify as a group with anything else, would MSN, or any other form of news media for that matter, not devote a significant amount of attention to it?  I suspect they would.  It would be irresponsible and bad business for them not to.  So why not God?

Plenty of time and space for horoscopes, rumors, and viral videos, but no time or space for God?  I find that to be many things, but mostly I find it to be sad.

I just read an article where Beyonce’s publicist wants some unflattering photos of her removed from the internet.

Nowadays due to modern technology, anyone can be made to look stupid in a picture either by freezing frames from a video or just by continually taking a bunch of pictures in rapid succession until you finally get a goofy looking one.  So it’s no surprise that during her halftime performance at the Super Bowl Beyonce’ ended up with some funny looks on her face.  It’s inevitable, and her “people” don’t want them seen.

I can sympathize with her.  She may want to give up performing.  After all, the very reason that I stopped fast dancing at weddings was because I saw a picture of myself.  Thank goodness it has never made its way to the internet the way Beyonce’s has.  If it had, here is what you would have seen;

I’m dressed in a really sharp looking black pinstriped suit.  (If I was smart I would have realized that my best look of the night was just sitting quietly at table 38, minding my own business, sipping a Belvidere Vodka and Red Bull.  But no, I had to push my luck and get on the dance floor.  That’s what vodka and Red Bull does to you.  It impairs your judgement while at the same time making you extremely energetic.)

On the dance floor, my body is in a position that at my age I thought it was unable to get into anymore.  Arms twisted weirdly above my head, one leg kicking out to the side while I balance precariously on a tip toe.  If you laid me on the floor in this position it would appear that I had either been run over by a bus or trampled while running with the bulls in Pamplona Spain.

Unfortunately the look on my face is worse than that.  I have one eye completely shut.  The other is open just halfway, and you can only see the white because my eyeball is rolled back up into my head.  I appear intoxicated.  Imagine that!

My lip is curled into what I can only describe as my patented insane dancing snarl.  It looks like I am desperately trying to suck out a piece of spinach salad that is lodged between my teeth.

OK to be honest,  I haven’t really applied for a patent on the insane dancing snarl.  Not only do I not think you can patent something like that, but also I’m not all that worried about someone trying to steal “my look.”  There just aren’t that many people who want to appear as if they should have their own tent between the two headed calf and the bearded lady at the carnival freak show.

“Ladies and Gentlemen, step right up and see the 57 Year Old Wedding Dancer!  He twists, he turns, he contorts his face into a grotesque mask the likes of which you have not seen since the untimely death last year of Latex Man!  Grown men will gasp, women will cover their eyes.  Children under 16 will not be admitted without adult supervision.  Enter at your own risk!”

So yes, I can sympathize with Beyonce, but dare I say this?  I think  my situation is worse than hers.  While she has thousands of excellent pictures of herself, I do not.  That means, someday the Bride and Groom from this wedding are going to be sitting down with friends and looking through their wedding album.  The friends will most likely be people who don’t know who I am.  At some point they will flip to that picture of me on the dance floor.  The men will gasp, the women will cover their eyes and this is how I will be remembered.  “The 57 Year Old Wedding Dancer.”

My wife, my son and I went out for dinner Friday night and I began to think back to the times when the kids were little and we used to go out to eat.  My wife and I had sort of an unwritten rule of how many times we would tell our kids to behave in public before taking action.  That number was set at one and a half times.  The first time was used for explaining to them what they were doing that was making us crazy and letting them know that it would be a really good idea if they stopped.  The half time was just a stare and the use of the offending child’s name.  For instance; “Nikki, please quiet down, there are other people here trying to enjoy themselves, they don’t need to hear you whine.”  If it happened again it would be just the stare and then, “Nikki!”

Now I I know some of you would probably say that even one and a half times are too many warnings.  But I always liked to err on the side of caution.  I liked to give my kids the benefit of the doubt.  Maybe they hadn’t made a conscious decision to be brats, maybe they weren’t listening because they had been afflicted with a sudden hearing loss, or maybe they were battling a case of temporary insanity, or maybe they weren’t behaving because they had some sort of a death wish.  You just never know with kids.

On the rare occasions when the one and a half rule didn’t take care of the problem, I would take our son or daughter by the hand and walk them out of the restaurant where we could continue our discussion in private.  It would appear to people that we were just a father and daughter or father and son going for a nice little stroll.  However, observant patrons would have noticed that while two of us left with frowns on our face, one of us was smiling when we returned.  Then we would all sit down and enjoy the remainder of our meal.

The reason this came to mind was because of Trey.  Trey was the little boy, about 7 years old, who was sitting at the table next to ours at the restaurant on Friday.  I’m pretty sure his name was Trey because for about 30 minutes all I heard was “Trey, Trey, Trey, Trey, Trey.”  (I’m no detective but I’m not clueless either.)  Trey had a little sister who looked to be about 4.  I have no idea what her name was because I never heard it.  She was either very well behaved, or her parents, being so preoccupied with Trey, hadn’t gotten around to naming her yet.

Trey on the other hand was not, at least on this day, very well behaved.  Either that or Lone Star Steak House was running some weird promotional event called, “Allow Your Kid To Act Like A Maniac And Annoy All Of The Other Customers And The Whole Family Eats For Free Day.”  If that was the case, then Trey was doing a great job of buying his family dinner and dessert.

To be fair, Trey wasn’t bad the whole time, it’s just that apparently his mom and dad had failed to recognize that their need for a fourth post meal cup of coffee had stretched Treys patience to the breaking point.

I honestly had been doing my best to ignore what was going on at their table, until I heard, “Trey, put it down!”  that grabbed my attention.  I turned just in time to see Trey and his mom locked in a fierce struggle for control of a butter knife.  Meanwhile, Trey’s sister, little miss what’s her name, was just sitting there quietly squishing mashed potatoes between her fingers.

With the battle for silverware supremacy won by his mom, Trey changed tactics and decided that the best way for him to regain control of the family was to run through the restaurant screaming.  His dad calmly sipped another cup of coffee as his mom confirmed that I had correctly guessed her son’s name by singing another chorus of, “Trey, Trey, Trey, Trey!” through clenched teeth.

I was toying with the idea of ending the madness by sticking out my leg and tripping Trey as he raced past our table for the third time, when all at once Trey’s dad finally pulled his head out of his espresso.  Apparently he had sufficiently satisfied his caffeine addiction and was now prepared to take action.

He grabbed Trey’s coat and said, “Trey put your jacket on, we’re going home!”  He held the coat out like it was a bullfighters cape and I swear I heard him yell “Toro!” as Trey flew past.   As luck would have it, Trey’s Charge, as it will surely become known in Lone Star Steak House lore, pointed him directly toward the restaurants front door, and in what turned out to be probably their best parental move of the night, Trey’s parents seized the moment and herded him toward the exit.  Meanwhile Trey’s sister, with potatoes still dripping from her hands, silently brought up the rear.

When the dust had finally cleared, our server made her way back to our table and asked if there was anything else she could get for us.  My wife asked for another margarita with a double shot of tequila, I asked for the check and my son asked for a vasectomy.

Two out of three aint bad.

The following post is in no way meant to be a political commentary or an endorsement of either presidential candidate.

With the election just days away, we are seeing more and more celebrities endorsing candidates.  Most of them believe they can easily influence us solely because of who they are.  That’s why I love this article;

Now personally I don’t care who Madonna or anyone else endorses for president.  But I think it’s funny that as soon as people started booing and leaving the auditorium, Madonna, in the true spirit of politics, retracted her original statement about who she felt you should support and said, “Seriously, I don’t care who you vote for …”

Yes she does, and that’s ok.  But I’m happy the  Material Girl got the message loud and clear.  Audiences don’t want to pay 75 bucks a ticket to listen to political commercials.  They want to be entertained.  Basically they were saying, “Just shut up and sing!”

However, the story made me want to see how other “celebrities” were voting.  I probably should have left well enough alone though, because I came to realize that no matter who I vote for, I’m going to be on the same side as someone who is probably goofier and maybe less informed than I am.

For instance;

Actors – Lindsay Lohan (Romney) and Robert Downey Jr. (Obama) —–  Honestly I thought they were both either still in jail or rehab.  When I see these two, all I can think of is the old commercial with the fried egg.  “This is your brain,  This is your brain on drugs.”   While I won’t take their advise on who to vote for,  I might give them a call if I ever need a good lawyer.

Fighters –  Hulk Hogan (Romney) and Mike Tyson (Obama) —–  Both have spent most of their adult lives being punched in the head.  I’ve been punched in the head and trust me, it can mess with how you think.  I  remember being punched by my brother once.  He hit me so hard my head snapped back into our kitchen wall.  I think if I had made a career of that, I couldn’t be trusted to put my underpants on correctly much less advise you who to vote for.

Reality Stars –  Leah Messer, star of Teen Mom 2 (Romney) and Kim Kardashian (Obama) —–   To be honest, the term “Reality Star” alone is enough to piss me off and take neither of these two people seriously.

Musicians –  Vanilla Ice (Romney) and Snoop Dogg (Obama)—- 1) Why should I listen to someone who won’t even tell me their real name?  2) Nicknames are fine provided you don’t make them up for yourself.  3) Am I the only one who can’t take adults with nicknames like this seriously?  When I was a little kid my dad nicknamed me Mush (pronounced like push) Mouse, I think it was after a cartoon character or something.  Had that nickname stuck, can you imagine coming up and asking me, a 57 year old man, “Hey Mush Mouse, who do you think I should vote for in this years election?”  I didn’t think so.

Writers – Dean Koontz (Romney) and Stephen King (Obama)—-  I actually like both of these guys, but have you read any of their books?  I can’t in good conscience take the advise of anyone who’s mind is more warped than mine.

Porn Stars – Jenna Jameson (Romney) and Ron Jeremy (Obama) —-  I can’t even look at a porn star without breaking out in a cold sweat.  I get flash backs to that time when I was 12 years old and my mom caught me with a Playboy magazine. I tried to convince her I was only looking at it because I found the articles thought provoking and insightful.  She just looked at me, shook her head and said, “You’ll probably grow up to be a politician someday.”  I didn’t, but now I understand where she was coming from.

Whoever you favor, remember to vote early and vote often.

I’m Dale Massaro and I approve this message.

I just read an article titled, “British Boy Stumbles Upon Extremely Valuable Whale Vomit.”  Now you have to admit, this is a headline that screams “Read me!”, does it not?  It does. So I did.  You can read it here.

It’s about this 8 year old boy named Charlie who was walking along a beach in Britain when he picked up something that looked like a rock.  I’ll quote some of the story ;

“As it turned out, that object was actually a piece of ambergris, a substance which is regurgitated by sperm whales.  Ambergris is used to prolong the scent of perfume, and therefore is extremely valuable.

The vomit, which weighs a little more than one pound, could be worth as much as $63,000.”

I did some further research and discovered that it is not only used to prolong the scent of perfume but is also used to actually create some perfumes.

I wonder how the use for whale barf was first discovered?  Maybe a ship was at sea, whale hunting, when this big old sperm whale jumped out of the water and puked on one of the sailors.  His buddy looks at him and says, “Hey Sven, you smell pretty.”  Wink wink  (Whalers spent long periods of time away from home.)  It’s possible this incident was not only responsible for discovering the use of ambergris but also, as Sven’s pal found out, how the practice of walking the plank began.

Anyway, here’s what bothers me about this story.  (The little British boy story, not the sailor story.  Although I have to admit that my sailor story is somewhat disturbing too.)  When my son was little, he used to collect rocks for me.  He started giving me rocks when he was about 4 years old.  Like any loving parent I was touched and would make a big deal out of what he had found.  I would say things like, “Thanks son, that one is beautiful!”  He enjoyed receiving the compliments and it became a routine.  He’d give me rocks and, I’d make a big deal out of it.  In the beginning he was really careful about the rocks he gave me.  He would actually search for ones that were unique.  But at some point he began to get a little less particular about what he picked up.  He started giving me hunks of broken sidewalk concrete and driveway asphalt for my “collection.  Because I love him dearly, I refrained from saying, “Hey son, I must say that really is quite a piece of crap you gave me there.  But thanks anyway.”

Here’s the thing.  With all of the rocks, concrete, and asphalt he gave me, he never found one piece of whale vomit that we could turn a profit on.  Not one!

I can just hear all of you now, “C’mon Dale give the kid a break.  How could he possibly find whale vomit in Belvidere?  Have you ever seen a whale or for that matter a  body of water bigger than the Kishwaukee River anywhere near your house?”

OK, fine, I suppose if you want to get technical that’s true.  The last time I saw anything even remotely resembling a whale was this past summer when I was getting out of my pool and caught a reflection of myself in the patio doors.  But we’ll discuss that later when I post my, “Note to self; Need to lose a few pounds.” article.

The point is…… Oh hell, I don’t even know what the point is.  What I do know is that if I read another story about someone making money because they stubbed their toe on a hunk of whale vomit, I’m gonna throw up.

 

Please take a minute to listen to the newscast I have linked Here

If you didn’t feel like reading the article that accompanied the newscast just yet, I’ll point out some highlights.

The article begins;   “Imagine the surprise among researchers when they discovered that what appeared to have been a human conversation near the beluga whale enclosure was actually the voice of the captive mammal. The accompanying audio clip is a sample of the whale’s mimicry of human speech, and it’s sure to inspire smiles, laughter, disbelief, or even awe among listeners.”

Call me cynical, but I have to admit that I’m not completely convinced that this is, as the article states, “Spontaneous human speech mimicry by a cetacean.”  I blame myself though.  I realize now that I was being overly optimistic when I clicked on the link.  I had wanted so badly to actually hear the whale speaking.  I thought maybe I would hear him say something like, “Hungry, need more fish.” or “Damn, this water’s cold.”  I hadn’t prepared myself for “Doo, doo, doo, doo, doo. doo, doo, doo.”  And now, because NOC passed away in 2007 we can’t even ask him what he meant by that.

The article also stated that “a human diver told researchers he had heard what sounded like a request to get out of the water. The voice turned out to be from NOC, which had formed the word “out” and repeated that word several times while the diver was in the water.”

So NOC had learned to mimic human voices but hadn’t learned that if he got out of the water he would die?  Very sad.  Apparently whales, like so many highly intelligent humans, are book smart but common sense stupid.  The article doesn’t mention how he passed away so I wonder if the diver honored NOC’s request and removed him from the water.  Or maybe the diver completely misunderstood the whale.  I can see it now, NOC lying on dry ground uttering his last words.  “I didn’t say out, I said doo, doo, doo.”

The article went on, “NOC lived among dolphins and socialized with two female belugas. His spontaneous mimicry of human voices subsided after about four years, when he became sexually mature.”

OK, this is the one thing that makes perfect sense.  He was hanging out with two chick whales and realized after four years they weren’t paying attention to a single doo he said, so he just stopped doo-ing.  Come on guys, it happens to all of us.

But, maybe my favorite part comes at the end of the newscast when the female reporter says, “But look, he’s like moving his mouth.”  I can’t figure out if she’s amazed that the whale is “talking” or disappointed that while NOC has supposedly learned to mimic people he hasn’t yet been able to master the art of ventriloquism.  Stupid no talent whale, I can see his lips moving.

So tell me, what do you think?  Am I being too critical?  Was I expecting too much?

Is NOC really talking or is this all just a bunch of doo doo?

If you are not familiar with the TV show “Here Comes Honey Boo Boo,” you may want to watch an episode and then come back to this post:

I have to admit that I’ve enjoyed sitting back and watching the Honey Boo Boo phenomenon unfold.  I mean who doesn’t secretly like things that make your mouth drop open and cause you to say to yourself, “What in the hell was that all about?!?”  It’s one of the reasons we have to deal with gaper blocks when there’s a car pulled over on the side of the road.  We slowly drive by and stare as a cop is telling the driver to place his hands on the hood of his car and “Spread em!!”

In a nut shell, train wrecks fascinate us.  As long as we aren’t directly involved.

What has really interested me is seeing the “celebrities” who have come out and talked about how wonderful little Honey Boo Boo Child is.  Celebrities like RuPaul the famous drag queen who wants to sing a duet with Honey and stated, “She is real. She is lovely. She’s funny. She doesn’t take herself seriously. The whole family doesn’t take themselves seriously. It’s really just good fun. I love anybody who dances to the beat of a different drummer.”  Obviously, and so do I Ru.  I just don’t love 7 year old brats.  And by the way, I haven’t met a lot of 7 year olds who take themselves very seriously, so I don’t think that makes her very unique.

Or Miley Cyrus who told Chelsea Handler, “Oh my God, since you saw me last, I put in a home theater in my house, and then it wasn’t quite loud enough, so we got subwoofers,” So, I can really hear [Honey Boo Boo] extra loud.”  For some reason I’m not surprised that Miley is so attracted to youngsters with little talent.

But my favorite is Rosie O’Donnell who said, “This is really revolutionary TV in a way most people won’t understand.”  Ok Rosie, so most of us aren’t as intellectual as you are, consequently Honey Boo Boo is much too complex for us to comprehend.  Got it.   She went on to say “[Honey] is like Shirley Temple, she has a presence and an intellect that goes way beyond her years.”  Really? Somehow I missed that.  It makes me wonder if Rosie knows anything about Shirley Temple other than “Animal Crackers in My Soup?”

O’Donnell likes the family so much that she wants to pay to have Honey’s family home renovated. The Boo Boo family isn’t asking her to, she just wants to do it out of the goodness of her heart.   And by the way, she also wants to make it into a Christmas special called, “Rosie O’Donnell and Honey Boo Boo’s Renovation.”  Hmmmm, nothing like jumping on the Boo Boo bandwagon.

The show is doing so well that TLC, the network which airs “Here Comes Honey Boo Boo,” has just given the family members an increase, depending on which article you read, anywhere between $20,000 an $40,000 an episode.  You may now be wondering why they would need anyone to pay for their home renovation.  Oh that’s right, the Christmas special.

So some “celebrities” would like us to believe the popularity is due to the fact that Honey Boo Boo is the next Shirley Temple on this “revolutionary” show.

I happen to think the reason is much simpler than that.  I think the sad truth is that we enjoy laughing at and looking down on people who we don’t consider to be as “sophisticated” as we are.  When Honey Boo Boo’s mom June makes her family’s favorite dish, Sketti, which is a mixture of butter and ketchup microwaved and poured over noodles we laugh at them, not with them.  How do I know we’re laughing at them?  Because they’re not laughing!  They don’t think there is anything funny about just making dinner.

And when June gives Honey her Go Go Juice, a mixture of Mountain Dew and Red Bull, in order to pep her up for one of her kiddie pageants, we feel better about ourselves because we know we would never do that to one of our kids.

This is where television has been going for the last ten years.  Someone needs to tell the Rosie O’Donnell’s of the world that it’s not revolutionary, it’s reality.

 

One positive I’ve taken from not working is that it has given me time to do some reading.  I’ve never been an avid reader, possibly because so often my attention span is about the same as that of a two month old Rottweiler.  Many times I have started a book, gotten bored, and never finished, so I made up my mind to dive into a good series. Something like James Patterson’s Alex Cross books. “Along Came a Spider”, “Kiss the Girls”, “Jack and Jill.”

Then one morning as I was about to begin my journey into the wonderful world of books, something caught my eye, it was the cereal box.  To be more specific, the Cream of Wheat box.  It said, “Enzyme treated for quicker cooking”  I had no idea what that meant but I kept reading, “1 minute cook time.”  I was fascinated.  I wondered how long it had taken to cook this hot cereal before they treated it with the enzymes.  I couldn’t put the Cream of Wheat down, and before I knew it I had read the entire box in one sitting.  That’s when I knew I was hooked on consumer product labels.

Don’t laugh.  The labels can be informative, thought provoking and sometimes even funny.  It’s just like reading a book except it doesn’t take as long.  I can make it through a frozen pizza box before the pizza’s even out of the oven!  Sometimes the labels are like a mystery novel.  You find yourself asking, “What is this company really trying to say?”

Here are some examples;

Product — “Label” — What the manufacturer might actually be saying

Supreme Tamales — “Remove wrapper before serving” — Our customers are too stupid to figure this out for themselves and we’re afraid of being sued.

Flat Out Flat Bread — “New Improved taste” — We know it didn’t taste very good before, but it’s better now.  Really!!

Great Value No Stick Cooking Spray — “A 1 second spray covers a 10 inch skillet” — We realize this is useless information but we needed to fill space on the can.

Suave Volumizing Root Boost Spray — “Caution: Do not spray in eyes” — We tried it. It really stings!  (And if your wondering why I would be reading about hair care products, you have a valid question)

Yoplait Yogurt — “Contains Live and active cultures” — You probably have no clue what that means, but trust us, nothing says yum like live and active cultures!

Jack Daniels Gourmet Coffee — “To further enhance the taste, add a splash of Jack Danial’s” — We’ve found that makes not only our coffee more tolerable, but lots of other things too.

Pillsbury Grands Biscuits — “For safe opening, point can ends away from you and others” — You’ll shoot your eye out.

Red Bull — “Stimulates the metabolism” — Have you ever watched a dog chase its tail?  It’s kind of like that only funnier.

Olay Foaming Face Wash — “mousse nettoyante pour le visage” — Ha! We know French and you don’t.

Listerine — “If bad breath persists, see your dentist” — It’s your problem now, not ours.

Now put down that silly book and start doing some real reading!  I want to know what you find!!

 

I love bagels.  Love em with cream cheese, love em with peanut butter, love to make sandwiches with them, little pizzas, toasted, untoasted, every way imaginable I love bagels.  But I don’t think that I would like one in my head.

You’re probably saying to yourself, “That’s stupid, of course no one would like a bagel in their head!”  But you would be wrong, some people apparently do like bagels in their heads.  And appropriately enough, they are called, “Bagel Heads.”

It’s true, look it up.  There is a fashion craze going on in Japan.  A new beauty trend called “Bagel heading.”

The way I understand it, is that there is a procedure where a persons forehead is injected with about 400 cc of a saline solution that produces a soft bubble on the forehead.  Then the person who is doing the procedure, presses their thumb into the middle of this bump until an indentation is formed.  The result is an image which makes it appear as if a bagel has been inserted under the skin.  Ok, so technically a real live bagel isn’t actually inserted into someone’s skull, but that’s the way it appears.  After about 16 hours the saline solution is absorbed into the body and the “bagel” disappears.

That’s too bad.  I think I would like to see someones head stay like that just as a lesson to everyone else.  It’s kind of like how you felt when your brother or sister would be making those funny faces at you during the car ride on your family vacation.  Mom would say to them, “Quit making those faces or your face will stay that way!”  And you would be thinking, “Yes! Please, please, please.”

Besides the stupidity in all of this, I’m confounded by the lack of imagination.  From the articles I’ve read, it takes about two hours to inject the saline solution.  So, after two hours of having salt water pumped into your dome the best you can do is make a hole in the center with your thumb and then say, “Hey look everybody, I’m a Bagel, bwa, ha, ha!” ?

Why not make an impression of a light bulb and say “Look I have an idea.” or put a question mark in there and say, “Look I’m thinking.”  or better yet, just leave the the solution alone and walk around with a big bump on your head and say, “Hey, look everyone, I’m an idiot!”

I think the closest I ever came to putting a bagel in my head was when I was about 8 years old and stuck an M&M in my ear.  A green one.  My mom of course was upset and screamed, “Dale, how could you!!!?”  Being only 8, I wasn’t really sure.  All I could say was, “Because I wanted to see if it would fit.”  It did.

She said, “Wait til your father gets home.”  I said, “What?”  So she shouted in my other ear, “I said, wait until you father gets home!”  That’s when the M&M popped out and the dog ate it.

Anyway, to prove to you that I couldn’t possibly make this stuff up, please check out this article from Fox News.com

I think I’ll just have toast for breakfast this morning.