“…to leave a message, press 1 or wait for the tone. For more options, press 5.”
…
…
*1*
…
…
“At the tone, please record your message. To end, simply hang up, or press pound for more options.”
…
“Record at the tone.”
*beep*

If you still need instructions on how to leave a voice mail in the year of our Lord 2005, please stop breathing at the tone. For other ways to end your life, please press pound, as in- Pound a tent stake into the roof of your mouth.

*beep*

That one has been bugging me for a while.

At this time I’d also like to disown everyone in my family or with whom I am otherwise acquainted who does not have an e-mail address. You are exempt if you are under the age of 10 or over 70. If you heard somewhere that I write funny stories, rest assured I’m not going to print them out and send them to you via carrier pigeon. It’s the principle of the thing- you can get a computer that checks e-mail for free, and don’t give me any of this “too complicated” stuff either. If you can operate a toothbrush, you can set up an e-mail account.

So it turns out good luck runs in the family. My brother buttless is the latest victim- He had a streak of bad luck for a month or so- dysfunctional relationship and so on…calling me to see if I had answers to why Jesus seemed to hate him lately. My answer (as with everything) was to say that this kind of adversity always indicates good fortune on the horizon. Either that or you are a rotten person and this is going to be your luck forever so you might as well eat a bullet.

Yeah, don’t call me for inspiration.

I think it was a week or two later that he calls to tell me that he found a real job doing what he loves. He gets to fly airplanes and gets paid for it now. We went out to celebrate his birthday last weekend. I can get used to the fact that he is prettier than I am, but why does he have to be funnier too? When we hang out, chicks come up to talk to me, but only because they want to tell me how rad my brother is.

Buttless Quote of the week-
“A giant puppy? That doesn’t sound fun at all. I can’t imagine anything scarier than a giant puppy.”

If he wasn’t my brother I’d poison him. I might poison him for the hell of it. That’ll change his luck.

Like I can complain about my own luck. Things are still going along quite groovily (as if you wanted to know), and I haven’t been able to write as often as I’d like because of the extra work I have going on at my various jobs. At the end of the month I get all burned out and wonder why I am doing it, but then everyone pays me and I am reminded. I’m drawing pictures, doing graphic design, writing stories, and people give me money? Holy. Crap.

Oh, and in case you needed something else to be jealous about, here’s a picture of me and my girlfriend-

I don’t know what she sees in me either, so don’t ask. You can almost see the disbelief in my eyes. I just like being around a woman who can outthink me (and oh dude can she ever). Okay, it doesn’t hurt that she’s frickin’ beautiful, either.

Next month I finally get a vacation. To me, that basically means going to a nicer spot to work. I have to go to a tradeshow in San Francisco the last week of September, but at the end of the week, the Broad (open for suggestions on the girlfriend’s diary moniker, should I continue mentioning her here) is meeting me there and we’re heading further west until we see islands. Then we’re going to stay there until we get bored of the smell of flowers and come home.

Or maybe she’ll get sick of my crap and drown me.

I have gotten in the habit of carrying my camera around with me because funny stuff is all over the place. I got a fancy phone with a camera built right in, but having a camera with a phone built in is like having a condom with a bible verse printed on it.

Most people would rather carry the items separately.

First great thing I saw was right after lunch one Saturday. In the parking lot of a restaurant, I saw what I have come to know as the totallysweetmobile-

I didn’t have time to photograph it from every angle because I knew the owner was somewhere nearby and if I stuck around I would probably get painted. I did zoom in for some detail, though.

Basically the theme of this piece is that Uncle Sam and Mother Nature got together and had sex until they vomited. Their son (who was born without arms due to high concentrations of mercury in the water where they live) used said vomit to paint this mural with his teeth. His reason for choosing a 1990 acura integra as his canvas is obvious. Here we see several species of poorly drawn, possibly retarded animals peacefully coexisting in what appears to be a pool of antifreeze with a bunch of miniature St Paddy’s day novelty hats sticking out of it.

That’s what I get out of it. Your interpretation may be different.

Along the lines of cars adorned with random animals, I saw this one on Monday as I was going to work-

This wasn’t so much tasteless as it was confusing. Everybody loves pandas. It is widely known that they are delicious. My question was this- What degree of affinity does one have to have for an animal in order to bedeck an entire windshield with its likeness? Sure, if you have an eagle there it means you are a redneck, and a tiger or something might symbolize strength and still some redneckness, but Ling Ling the Pandabear? Does that mean you appear cuddly on the outside but you can kill a man with one swipe of your mighty paw, or that you only have sex once a year?

If I see this car again, I’m going to stop them and ask. So if you see me staggering down the street with my face hanging in a huge flap from my chin, you’ll know the answer.

Here’s one I saw as I was standing across the street from my house, and had to snap with my crappy camera phone-

The interior of this cab might be threadbare and ragged, but they managed to finance some spinners. These weren’t the cheap $20 wheels, either. Again, more confusing than funny.

Another camera phone picture, but yes, in case you can’t quite make it out, this truck belongs to “Gay Construction”. Now I know for certain that at least one former member of the Village People resides in Atlanta. Keeping my eyes peeled for a Gay County squad car…and a Gay Marina and Dry Dock…right next to the Gay Casino.

A few weeks ago, the girlfriend and I were stopped at a traffic light and she said “that sign is pretty gross.” I turned to see this-

Several factors are at work here- what used to be a hand with one finger extended broke off at just the right point to become a decent representation of male genitals. Then the eye moves to the right, and the name “Woodpride” is emblazoned next to it. Possibly the funniest thing in Atlanta.

Oh, they do hand stripping, too.

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