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Weak XLVIII

26 November 2012

No. 2,080 (cartoon)

My partner’s insane.

Does it run in the family?

No. It had to start somewhere.

27 November 2012

A Pretty Good Picture Indeed!

The San Francisco football team’s coach Jim Harbaugh is a genius. I have no idea what his team does, but the hombre’s brilliant when it comes to dealing with stupid critics. Here’s how he responded to a reporter’s question.

“I think it’s just a lot of gobble, gobble, turkey. Just gobble, gobble, gobble, turkey, funk-jive turkey gobblers.” Harbaugh said. “That paints a pretty good picture.”

A pretty good picture indeed!

28 November 2012

Dumbarton Bridges

There’s a span across the San Francisco Bay south of here called Dumbarton Bridge. I have no idea how it got its name; I’ve never seen any dumb—or any other kind of—art on the roadway.

There’s an old bridge not far from Dumbarton, Scotland, but it’s not called Dumbarton Bridge; its official name is Overtoun Bridge. It’s colloquially known as the Doggie Death Bridge, since an average of a dog a year has inexplicably leapt to its death from it for the last half of a century. Even more curiously, only long-snouted bowsers such as retrievers and collies chose to make the plunge. And only on sunny days.

One theory is that the dogs committed suicide. This explanation is problematical in that dogs don’t commit suicide. Other mongrelphiles theorize that the beasts get terribly excited when they smell the stinky minks that live below, then jump first and think later. (But certainly not very much later.)

And then there’s Eric’s speculation that the dogs never jumped in the first place; thrifty owners who’d discovered a free method of euthanasia pushed them off the precipice. I thought his explication smacked of stupid Scottish stereotypes, but I don’t spend much time thinking about dropping dogs, dead or otherwise.

29 November 2012

Gratuitous Photo of the Weak: Vinnie’s Hearse

Vinnie’s got a hearse. A real hearse. Unfortunately, he lost some of the gravitas of his cadavermobile by planting a fake human skull on the dashboard. That’s a mistake; that’s false economy. Vinnie further lessened the creepiness factor of his ride by including an advertising sign on the side, “Uncle Vinnies [sic] Funeral Service and Pizza Delivery.”

Otherwise, it’s a very fine motor vehicle.

30 November 2012

What Is It About Bacon?!

Gomez used to be a vegetarian, but recently reverted to eating animal flesh. The reason, in one word: bacon.

“I should have never tasted that bacon, lettuce, and tomato sandwich,” he complained. “Bacon’s a gateway meat.” (I personally believe that the equally poisonous mayonnaise in fact seduced him, but that’s neither here nor there.)

What is it about bacon?! Smart people eat it, smart people who know that pigs are more intelligent that dogs (although that’s not saying much), smart people who know bacon is full of enough chemicals and cholesterol to cause grievous bodily harm.

Nevertheless, the bacon bandwagon rolls on, at ridiculous speed. The latest installment: bacon-scented shaving cream. The concoction was created by Dave Lefkow and Justin Esch, who describe their abomination thusly.

Bacon Shaving Cream is a high end, luxurious, bacon-scented shaving cream for all skin types. Our advanced heat-activated aromatic technology lasts for hours and delivers maximum bacon scent when you need it most.

When do I most need to smell like bacon? That’s yet another question I refuse to contemplate.

1 December 2012

A Pencil Named David

I read that my body probably contain about enough carbon to make nine hundred pencils. That’s one of those stupid facts that’s probably useless in practice. I’m guessing that one would need a double boiler and both microwave and convection ovens to convert human meat into carbon, and possibly a blowtorch as well.

On the other hand, my amputated index finger probably represented more than one nine hundredth of my body weight, or enough for a pencil. That’s enough carbon for a pencil named David.

I don’t have a will, in part because I don’t have enough material assets to merit one. Perhaps I should request that my survivors buy enough double boilers, microwave ovens, and convection ovens to convert my carcass into eight hundred and ninety-nine pencils. I might prefer that over ending up as cat food, even though there’s nothing wrong with that.

Ask me when I’m dead.

2 December 2012

Toilet Desk

It had to come to this, and now it has: “Toilet users rollable desk,” U.S. patent application no. 20120223627.

“A toilet users [sic] rollable desk for a compact personal office desk for the commode user. The toilet users rollable desk generally includes a desk that provides the toilet user with a space between the knees and legs to read, write, use the computer and store personal items as well as a shelf to place coffee or nourishment. The toilet users rollable desk is also able to store toilet tissue, hold reading material and be conveniently moved in front of the commode user for all processes to be best utilized in the large, average, or small toilet commode area.”

Ah, the office of the future is here today! My hat’s off to Brian and Cameron Wylie; what more is there to say about such an innovative yet inevitable invention?

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©2012 David Glenn Rinehart