My brain filter may need some work.

Being a Brit living in America is, mostly, pretty easy.

The main issue I have (other than the stupid way they format their dates, their driving, their TV, their….well, you get my point) is filtering my disgusting and yet hilarious brain from reacting when I find something funny that others REALLY won’t.

After all, offending someone over here is as difficult as fist fighting a baby.

These moments of internal hilarity involve things like growlers, double-fisting and, more recently, this sign I saw on a colleagues desk that was clearly meant to be heartwarming…

You know what’s coming…

It took all my willpower not to put a note on it that reads:

“So are your wife’s tits”.

Does that make me a bad person?

A sign of things to comma

Yes, yes, I know it’s been a while since I posted something.

Work has been really busy lately as I was recently promoted (small smattering of applause can be heard somewhere at the back, followed by a hacking dry cough and a murmuring to just ‘get on with it’), so I haven’t had a lot of time to put fingers on keyboard.

However, I can find 5 minutes to share this little moment of sheer joy.

So I arrived at the office this morning and noticed this small sign on someone’s desk.

Some of you can probably see where this is going

Now, for clarity, this ‘someone’ is the head of a department. Like, he’s WAY up there in the echelons of senior management, and this sign is clearly a visual aid to encourage energy, teamwork and whatever he feels necessitates this sign.

But….

Being the Grammar-Nazi I am, couldn’t help myself!

Ah, the humble comma; how we miss you.

In this context, it’s not so much a visual aid than a visual impairment, depending on your aim.

But I’m sure he’ll see the funny side of this and will be fine with me mocking his grammatical oversight, plus….

…I don’t want to rub it in.

Aaaahthankyou!

A small entry (apparently)

I try to avoid posting twice in quick succession, especially since it’s been a writing drought recently, but I simply had to share this.

I was driving home from work today and, as I joined the freeway, there was a huge billboard offering ‘Vaginal Tightening’.

This was an occasion where ‘LOL’ was appropriate.

I really did. Loudly.

It was highly amusing and therefore I shared it on Facebook. I mean, it’s funny but I didn’t think it warranted a post of its own.

Anyway, as I neared home I saw a store selling alcohol; a self proclaimed outlet of alcohol, or ‘liquor’ as they called it.

Yes, that’s right, it was called ‘Liquor Outlet’.

I had to pull over before I ROFL’d into the car in front.

Give me a sign…and I will point and laugh at it.

Yesterday I was in traffic, sat behind a truck that had the slogan:

‘Behind You All The Way’.

Ah, the irony.

I was on my way to see Star Wars Episode VII : The Force Awakens for the second time.

When I got to the cinema I realised I was extremely early (like I was keen to get there, for some reason) and my man date hadn’t arrived yet.  Out of boredom I began wandering around the child-filled lobby, raising suspicion with security.

My boredom took a breather when I saw this sign on the wall…

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OK, so most of this is standard stuff about not bringing in your own food and switching off your phone…blah blah blah, but it was a little disturbing to read ‘no weapons’.

Does that include lightsabers?

It was scary to see that written on a sign that was NOT trying to be funny.  They meant it.  If you’re armed you’d better not mess with these people, they have a sign.  What do you have?

Oh, wait…

But my favourite part was that they felt it necessary to advise they WILL wake you up if you’re snoring, like it’s a regular thing.

This had me laughing out loud to myself.

Security began to close in.

This, combined with the contradictory truck logo, reminded me I had two or three amusing photos on my phone that I was saving for a potential blog post in the future.

Well, now this post is that post.

Enjoy.

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On the back of a camping chair (and down the front of my pants)

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We need to protect the gaylords it seems….or are they there to protect us?

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TV show about your mother.

Stop, America….just stop.

Last night I had an encounter with a driver that infuriated me.  It’s something that happens a lot and pisses me off to a level that is unwise in a country where guns are so readily available.

Ladies and gentlemen, this is a warning; today’s post is a rant.

Ok, so….this encounter last night involved a 4-way stop junction which, in my opinion, are as effective as chipotle flavoured hemorrhoid cream.

Why the fuck can’t Americans just use roundabouts (sorry ‘traffic circles’) to maintain the flow of traffic like sensible countries? Oh yes, that’s right, apparently they’re ‘confusing’ and Americans don’t know how to use them.

I suppose I can understand that.  It’s a circle.  Very confusing.

After all, they have to simultaneously use TWO pedals AND a steering wheel; how could we possibly expect them to navigate anything other than a huge, wide straight road?

What was I thinking?

Now, for those who don’t know, a 4-way stop has two simple rules; The Stupid Rule and The Vague Rule.

The Stupid Rule dictates that you MUST stop, even when you can see there are no cars coming for miles and miles and miles.

crossroads

Add to this the fact that 4-way stops are at almost every intersection, it makes for a very jerky drive.

Stop.  Start.  Stop.  Start.  Stop.  Start.  Stop.  Start.  Stop.  Start.  Stop.  Ad nauseum

It takes forever to get anywhere.  And don’t even get me started on the speed limits.

I use the word ‘speed’ liberally, of course.

Then there’s The Vague Rule; it dictates who gets to go first.  You see, it all depends on who got to the intersection first.  If you’re there first, you go first.

That makes sense, right?

This never results in bell-ends (no US translation for this one) speeding up to get there seconds before you do, just so they can go first.

Never.

Ever!

However, there is one distinct fault with this rule; one that was never taken into consideration when it was apparently concocted by chimps.

People.

It didn’t factor in the sheer stupidity that people bring to the mix.

Most of the time it’s pretty easy to see who gets to the junction before or after you.  If they’re stationary when you arrive, they got there first.  Otherwise it’s you.

And yet, despite being easy to establish the pecking order pretty sharpish (quickly), there are still those tentative, hesitant, dribbly twats who get there before you and then don’t move, resulting in me and all the other twitchy cars wondering what they’re doing and if we should just go.

I’m pretty sure I’m not the only driver shouting words of encouragement like: “GO then, you fucking turd”

In those situations I just go.

Fuck ’em.

So, was it one of these idiots I encountered last night?  Oh no dear sir, it most certainly was not.

No, last night was a whole new level of dumbfuckery.

Now, before I continue, I have a little quiz for you.

Ready?

Question 1:  Which indicator (turn signal) do you use when turning left?

A – Left indicator

B – Right indicator

C – Both indicators

D – No indicators

Question 2:  Which indicator (turn signal) do you use when turning right?

A – Left indicator

B – Right indicator

C – Both indicators

D – No indicators

Question 3:  Which indicator (turn signal) do you use when going straight ahead?

A – Left indicator

B – Right indicator

C – Both indicators

D – No indicators

The answers are: 1-A, 2-B and 3-D.

If you scored less than 100%, please click here.

Otherwise, please continue reading.

So now’s the time for me to set the scene for last night.

I approached the 4-way stop, slowed down and stopped.  The car coming in the opposite direction did exactly the same, a second before me.  There were no cars coming from the left or right.

It was just the two of us.

According to The Vague Rule, he had the right to enter the intersection before me.  He didn’t have any indicators flashing, so he was going straight ahead, just like me.

Naturally, I entered the intersection at the same time as him because, after all, we were simply going to pass each other.  Right?

Wrong.

This cocksmoker was turning left.

This meant he had to stop IN the intersection and wait for me to pass, making sure I could see ‘the error of my ways’ by slamming on his brakes and giving me that look to say I was in the wrong.

At least, that’s what I think he was doing, it was difficult to see past the limbs of his kids splatted against the windscreen (windshield).

How the fuck was I supposed to know he was turning left?

I know why I got that look; it was that ingrained sense of entitlement.  It was HIS turn to go.

Regardless of whether his maneuver interfered with mine or not, it was HIS turn.

sulk cart

I should sit there like a good little boy and wait.

Not this little boy.

This little boy wanted to get out of his little car and punch him in his little dick.

Why do people here have such an inability to signal which direction they’re turning?

My wife tells me that Las Vegas drivers are the worst, but some of the people I work with – who come from all over the US – say it’s a nationwide epidemic.  I’m starting to believe them.

It’s not like they’re driving manual cars over here.  They’re not having to negotiate the clutch, the gearstick, the biting point, etc…  In fact, UK drivers have all that shit to deal with AND they still manage to use their indicators.

No, here it’s a different distraction.  With their free hand they’re either texting, sipping coffee or masturbating.

Like me.

This is a sign that I give a crap

Yesterday I went to get my hair cut from the same place as before.

Fuck knows why.

Oh wait, convenience…that’s why.

As expected, they pointlessly took my phone number so they could enter my details in their computer, locate my account, print off a sheet of paper, pass it to my stylist so she could read it and confirm the style I wanted.

Yep, much quicker than just asking how I want my hair cut.

Twats.

Anyway, that’s not the reason for today’s post.

Whilst driving home from the barber shop I passed a large plot of undeveloped land.  Well, I say ‘undeveloped land’, but when you consider that we live on the very outskirts of Las Vegas, the words ‘undeveloped land’ actually refers to about a million miles of desert.

This ‘undeveloped land’ had a sign that read:

No Trespassing.
No Dumping.

So I jumped the fence and took a shit.

Ryan Reynolds grin

Punctuation station

Every morning I see this sign on the door to the control room at London Victoria underground station

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Obviously this room is out of bounds to commuters.

But this sign also suggests the same applies to station staff and contractors.

So, who CAN enter this room? 

Maybe only those people capable of using punctuation.

‘Faeces’tious and ‘Poo’dantic

At work, someone has put up these notices in all the toilets in the entire building.

bog sign

Note the use of an ‘@’ symbol instead of the word ‘At’, as if to save space or something. I hate that, especially when the word ‘At’ was actually used a bit further down.

And what if I leave my toilet in an awful state at home?  Does that give me permission to do the same at work?

Ultimately, I want to do the right thing, so I’m going to take heed of the advice offered and (being the literal and pedantic bastard I am) do exactly what it says.

I’m going to enjoy flushing the toilet non stop and shitting in the bin.

If you’ll notice this notice, you’ll notice this notice is not worth noticing

My wife and I visited Sears yesterday during our visit to Vegas, mostly because I’d never been and I’m a curious bugger.

Being almost 6pm on a Sunday, the Brit in me was pretty convinced it would be closed.

I was wrong of course.

As we approached the entrance I saw the sign that displayed the store’s opening times. It read:

Mon 10.00am to 9.00pm
Tue 10.00am to 9.00pm
Wed 10.00am to 9.00pm
Thu 10.00am to 9.00pm
Fri 10.00am to 9.00pm
Sat 10.00am to 9.00pm
Sun 10.00am to 9.00pm

So, the same time EVERY DAY then?

What a lot of unnecessary effort.

Only in America.

A sign that things are rubbing me up the wrong way

Today, whilst exiting a burrito shop during our lunch break, my wife and I saw a massage parlour with a sign outside offering a “Walk-in back rub”.

Considering the shop was in a pedestrianised road with no vehicle access, I did wonder exactly how else they expected us to enter the palour without, well, walking in.

I suppose we could draw numbered chalk squares in front of their door and hopscotch in, but that just seems a bit extreme.

Plus, I’d left my chalk in my other coat.

This got me thinking.

What if I’m drunk? Would they refuse to accept ‘stagger-in’ customers? Mind you, that’s probably for the best; i’d fall asleep, fart and promptly vomit on their floor. Then every customer would be a ‘slide-in’.

And what if we danced in? Would they shun those of us who choose to Merengue through their door (cha cha cha)? Dancers need back rubs too.

What about wheelchair users, clowns on unicycles, or those on horseback?

And what if I’d tripped on a paving stone and accidentally stumbled through the door and into their parlour? One could argue that I’d ‘tripped in’, but what if they hadn’t actually seen the trip and only saw the moment where i’d regained my balance? Would I be obliged to purchase a back rub?

After the baby sized burrito we’d just eaten they could market them as a ‘walk-in burping’.

As we strolled away, I couldn’t help but smile at the thought of adding a ‘g’ to their sign.

A ‘walking back rub’ would be perfect, as time was running out and we needed to get back to work.

ministry of silly walks

A sign of irony

There’s a pub on a street corner between the office and the station that always has people spilling out onto the pavement.

Often literally.

Today as I walked by there was a large freestanding sign outside the pub with the words:

‘Can all customers outside the pub please avoid obstructing the pavement’

The sign was chained to a lamp post on the corner of both streets, right in the middle of both pavements.

I had to walk into the road to get around  it.

Obviously.

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