Mascots

   I would like to congratulate Duke for winning the NCAA Men's Basketball Championship.  Unfortunately, as I didn't go to Duke (or pay to send a relative there,) I am not part of the .001 percent of Americans who can actually say nice things about their school and mean it.
   And besides - their mascot is pretty creepy.  As a matter of fact, Brutus, the nut-headed mascot of Ohio State (current NCAA football champs,) isn't exactly normal looking either.

   And I won't even show you Scrotie, the mascot of the Rhode Island School of Design.  (That would require a parent advisory.)
   But even those mascots that pass muster with the FCC (who now regulate the internet in case you missed that,) there are quite a few out there that leave me wondering - What were they thinking?
   Even if you get past all the stupid racist stuff like the professional baseball team in Cleveland and the professional football team in Washington DC, there's a lot of weird out there.
   Speaking of racist crap - I have to give a thumbs up to the largely Native-American University of Northern Colorado in Greeley for naming their team, The Fighting Whites.

   Unfortunately, no Caucasian has stepped forward to serve as their mascot.
   But back to mascots.  I enjoy the trend of adopting botanical mascots.  Nothing is more threatening than athletically inclined foliage.

 There's the Wichita State Shockers who played very fine basketball this year when they didn't mistake the ball for a pumpkin.

The Delta State Fighting Okra.  They might not be undefeated, but they are undigested.

The Scottsdale Community College Fighting Artichokes.  It's a good choice.  I've never figured out how to eat these things.

Then there's the Stanford Cardinals who eschew an avian mascot for a tree.  Stanford just doesn't do predictable.

   Animal mascots have always been popular.  What could be strange or creepy about the representation of earth's fauna?

I think I stepped on a classics-reading banana slug just the other day.

They say this mascot looks a lot like a horned frog (lizard.)  It's one of several reasons I don't live in Texas.

   Then there are the human mascots.  What's creepy about a human?

A Demon Deacon...  right in the middle of the bible belt?  Okay, that's creepy.

Why am I worried that if Purdue Pete bends over we're going to see a polystyrene butt crack?

What is it about the Vandy Commodore that makes me want to warn small children away?

On the other hand, Whittier's Johnny Poet is reassuring - in a "the'll never win another game," kind of way.

   Finally, we have the imaginary creatures.

Kansas City art teacher and illustrator Florence Pretz had the Billiken appear to her in a dream back in 1908.  University of Saint Louis has brought the little fella to the tournament several times since, but some dreams don't come true.  They haven't won it all since 1948.

Williams College boasts the Purple Cow.  I don't think they're really trying.

But the champion mascot (in my opinion,) belongs to The New College of Florida (will they still keep that name a hundred years from now?)  They have a mascot of supremely low expectations.

The Empty Set

I have no idea what this vid is supposed to be about - but it fits the theme.

Missing a Blog Post

If you look at the list of posts by date, you’ll see that a tooth is missing.  I had one written about aglets and then my laptop ate it.  Feverously I cranked out another post about preparing for the apocalypse (which I’ll post in the future – assuming the world doesn’t end first.)  My hurried post ready, a combination of events conspired against me.  My internet service (FreedomPop.com) decided they needed to send me a message about my account, and in spite of clicking on the prompt numerous times, I got either a never-ending download bar, or a ‘contact us’ hyperlink that sent me back to the original message.  (It’s still doing that.)

No worries – there’s always the wi-fi at the local library.  I packed up my ancient laptop and walked the mile or so to find the doors locked – Good Friday…  I never understood what was good about Good Friday.  Aglets, apocalypse, crucifixion, blog failure – was there a theme?

So I guess I can say that it took the hanging of God to finally stop my 200 plus regular blog post record.

One other thing the crucifixion and my missed post have in common – the world didn’t end.  The birds still flew – they still ate little berries off the tree – they still crapped those berries on my car.  I imagine in first century Judea they crapped on chariots, or maybe on the sales cart for Bob’s Crucifixion Accessories – How’s It Hangin’?

Thankfully the suicide squad from the People’s Front of Judea didn't show up – though I understand that their presence at the crucifixion is apocryphal.

So – in keeping with the theme of unplanned imperfection, the rest of this post will be populated by random images that responded to my Google search for ‘chair.’

Why chair?  I grabbed the nearest book, opened it at random and looking away, planted my index finger on the page.  The word under my finger was chair.  You don’t get much more random than that.  (Sure glad it wasn't hemorrhoids.)

Maybe this was a boring idea

A little more comfy, I guess

Am I the only one who looks at a leather chair and thinks - sweaty?

Here's some lovely restoration work by JPS regular, AMW

These types always remind me of grasshoppers

The good old days - when modern was more important than comfortable

Is that an upholstery pattern or moss?

huh?

Creepy

REALLY creepy

Created by Homeland Security - for relaxing after water-boarding

And now - more chairs

Vanity, Thy Name Is Motorist

Back when I was a kid – (shortly after the invention of fire, shortly before the invention of bunt cakes,) you could tell those with more money than brains by looking at their vehicle tags. The tip-off was if the plate, rather than a random collection of numbers and letters, actually spelled something like BOBSCADDY.

A number of things have changed over the last half century. First, there are far fewer people named Bob – especially under thirty. Second, fewer people brag about having a Cadillac. Third, there is a cumulative crap-load of vanity plates out on the road.

So – has the maxim changed? Are vanity plates no longer for people with more money than brains? If we answer in the negative and the maxim holds, does that mean there is a great deal more money out there, or far fewer brains?

I’ll leave those questions to the more contemplative – perhaps we’ll ask the one person under thirty named Bob – if we can find her.

Sociological contemplatives aside – vanity plates can be fun.  Many are just straight-forward.

Right - got it.

Pauli Shore has offered his entire fortune (nearly a hundred dollars,) for the rights to this one.

I think we could have figured that out on our own.

Stay clear of puddles

I suspect this driver just doesn't like tailgaters.

Some are playing the game of - what can I get away with at the DMV?

In Minnesota?  She/he must be cold.

This is why some people still buy large sedans.

This driver likes to meet new people - with side-arms and Breathalyzer kits.

The classic upside-down message.

And backwards, of course

Nothing to see here - All Bengal fans itch.

The ones I like best are those that incorporate other features to make their message - either added on...

Or within the plate itself.

A little repressed evil in this plate?

Or maybe not so repressed.

Maybe the maxim has changed.  Maybe in this era people just feel a greater need to express themselves.  It might be in their DNA

But I wouldn't rule out darker possibilities.

And more plates in our video.

Those of you paying attention may have noticed this post is about 30 hours after the customary Monday time.  I've had a scheduling change.  If you want your stupidity fresh off my Windows 98 wonder-laptop, look for updates now on Tuesdays and Fridays.

Seven Things Too Irritating to be Believed

I think I've been good enough for long enough. Anyone who knows me at all knows where my inspiration comes from: love, peace and baskets of puppies? No? It comes from things that piss me off. So if you’re ready to share my annoyance, read on, because some things are just too irritating to be believed.

1) I’m cooking store brand ravioli because I’m too cheap to get Chef Boyardee. I carefully move them from the frying pan to the plate. One slips off my fork and falls. Laws of physics you say? Laws of physics, my ass! I watched the ravioli follow a convoluted course, first it detaches itself from my perfectly centered fork, it avoids the frying pan directly beneath it, zips around the plate directly in front of it and pushes itself beyond the counter to land on the only shoes I own that could be easily stained by store brand ravioli sauce. The flying Wallendas could do no better.

2) Nascar on the radio:

A sport that is the definition of tedium where the only possible interest is in watching a crash is now, reduced to just the sound. “Oh my gosh, this is unexpected, for the four hundredth and ninety third consecutive time today, the cars turn left! Somebody get me a Goody’s Powder.”

3) Why hasn’t there been a public lynching of the poopheads who change the time slot for our favorite programs?

Can anyone tell me when Prairie Home Companion rebroadcast is on? I’m still trying to figure out why they ever cancelled Hill Street Blues.

4) I’ve asked and nobody’s ever told me why they have those useless piercing tones the phone company uses to introduce a canned message:

BEEEEEEEEEP! The number you have called is no longer in service. Either you used an old phone book or you are a complete moron. Check the number, or stay on the line with our high pitched, over-modulated tones and then you can buy one of our very expensive printout phones for the deaf.

5) Why do some people race to pull out in front of you in traffic and then hit their brakes? Why? I sure don’t like having pissed off people driving where they can give me spinal injury.

Are they brake inspectors or do they work for a body shop?

6) When I’m too lazy to change the station, I sometimes here TV Preachers and hucksters scream at me, “Listen, now this is important!”

Face it buddy, I’ve heard your preaching, and it ain’t important. Is he trying to say that the previous half hour of bloviating wasn’t important? Well, at least we can agree on that.

7) Those iddy-biddy flying bugs that you can hardly see:

Why do they want to die in my coffee? Why do they want to fly in my mouth, my eyes, my nose? What beast in its right mind would want to fly up my nose? I hate mosquitoes, but at least they have the decency to be visible. I breathe these things in and I swear I can feel them biting my uvula.

I bet you have things you can add. Feel free to send them to me. Then a few months from now, you can add to your peeves – Hack bloggers that steal my list of things too irritating to be believed.

Can you guess what this dog finds too irritating to believe?