Red Nose

Tights Are Not Pants: Variety Edition

I have been quite remiss in posting examples of my latest fashion headshake, to wit: Tights are not pants. So, rather than post them one at a time, here is one big ol' collection of them.

1.  Shades of the 80s -- the big shirt over tights. Comfortable, yes; pants, no. Oh, and the woman behind her? Those are actually jeans. Extraordinarily tight jeans, but jeans nonetheless. Location: Minneapolis-St. Paul airport.

 

2.  The paint splatter effect tights. Pants? No. At least she's got the gray/black thing going -- except for the backpack and boots. Location: SeaTac Airport.

 

3.The patterned tights. I think they are kind of cute, except for the wedgie effect. Put something over that, please! Location: Glenmont Metro.

 

4. A twofer! Again with the wedgie effect! It's not as obvious with the black tights, but trust me, it was definitely wedged. Also? NOT PANTS. Location: Gallery Place Metro.

 

5. It wouldn't be spring without some pink! I'm glad that the draped white top hides any wedge action, but still -- you know the drill -- not pants. Location: Glenmont Metro.

 

6. Finally, a guest entry from my BFF Judy's granddaughter. Are the faux-jeans pockets and stitching drawn on? Painted on? Are these pajama jeans? These may not, strictly speaking, be tights, but can they be called pants? Whatever they are, they are... unfortunate. Location: Atlanta.

 

Apparently I Have A Following Among Graffiti Artists

I started out just snapping an occasional picture of the interesting graffiti along the Red Line during my daily commute.

Now I have over 250 photos of street art in a Flickr set. I think this has become a full-fledged hobby! In fact, I now have actual graffiti artists following me on Instagram and Flickr! Who knew? I simply tagged the Instagram photos as "#urbanart" and "#graffiti" as pretty soon folks named "trill_ass_arnold" and "durkstevens" and "loudmanee_shmokindopee" were liking and commenting and following. Then I started seeing that graffiti artists found my Flickr set and starting favoriting (it pains me to write that, but not enough to refrain from doing it) and commenting on the photos in it. Scando-Commando even sent me a link to a DC graffiti forum, where I found a posting of one of my pictures! At least the poster labeled it as "stolen" rather than taking credit for it. Honor among thieves, I suppose!

It's really fascinating to watch how the art changes. Sometimes it takes years; other times it happens within days. For example, for months this tag appeared on the side of a building in between the Takoma and Fort Totten stations:

Then one day I saw that this minimalist piece was covered by this extremely colorful and intricate piece featuring Dick Dastardly:

The names on either side of Mr. Dastardly are "Snek" and "Gowje" -- I've got several other tags featuring Snek, but he's usually paired with Fant. I wasn't entirely pleased with this shot -- it's a bit fuzzy -- so I was determined to get a better one. But before I could, this happened:

Voyer struck! I'm glad he didn't cover up Dick Dastardly, because this shot of him is much sharper.

Here's one more example -- I put these three shots in a collage picture to show the original graffitti, the coverup, and the coverup of the coverup! I swear the coverup lasted all of two days before the coverup of the coverup appeared. I'm waiting for a coverup of the coverup of the coverup.

Now, I know that "beef" is urban slang (also circus slang) for having a grudge against or wanting to fight another person. So... do you think Voyer is sending a message here? Or, as trill_ass_arnold commented on the Instagram post of the "Voyer loves beef" photo, perhaps Voyer actually loves beef and broccoli - as evidenced by the broccoli tree under the "loves beef".

In any case, it makes for an interesting and fun commute, watching how the art changes and trying to capture it before it disappears.

Copyeditors Are Still Important, Part Two

It's Typo Time again!

First, a warning.

Ah, the old "seperate" typo -- it's a classic! In addition, there's no period at the end of the last sentence. Aside from those two mistakes, however, I love the tone of this note. It's mildly threatening, but very polite.

Next up, the double verb.

This is another error that spellcheck won't catch. I know, because I've done it myself. It happens when you decide to replace one verb with another, but you forget to delete the first verb. So you double the action!

Now, the simple omission of a single letter changes the whole meaning of the sentence.

I wonder if the "tree" kinds of milk make this a vegan dessert?

Oh, and speaking of desserts...

 

When you're going for a bad pun, at least make sure you use the right word. In this case, I'm thinking that those must be some sandy doughnuts.

 Here's an interesting feature for a hotel.

Sometimes a space can be the difference between a sleeping area and something that sounds like a breakfast pastry. I can hear it now:

"I'll have a cinnamon bun kroom and a cup of coffee, please!"

And finally, here is why cheating is on the rise, especially among "Gen Y" members. Evidently, it has something to do with background and culture, as opposed to moral principles.

Things I Am Tempted To Order

I have seen a lot of daytime TV commercials from my sickbed. I'm tempted to order everything just to see if they work. A consumer reporter on our local news does this very thing, but I think it would be lots more fun to do it myself.

For example, Tag Away! This product will solve your annoying skin tag problems in a few short weeks. Just dab it on those nasty things -- no matter where they are -- and eventually they fall right off. How is this possible? I hear you cry. Well, it's a combination of all-natural herbs and oils. See?

Then there's the Sobakowa Cloud Pillow, which is apparently the best pillow in the whole entire world. This pillow's innards actually passed the egg test, where an egg was placed at the bottom of a tube of innards and a 10-pound weight was dropped on them. Amazing! The eggs do not break!

My favorite, though, is the Wax Vac, a dandy little machine that vacuums ear wax and dirt out of your ears. It comes with eight soft rubber color-coded tips! It has safety guard that prevents you from sticking it too far into your head! It's quiet! It has a powerful headlight!

The commercial reiterates, over and over, the dangers of using a cotton swab to clean your ears. It shows a stupid man digging in his ear with a swab and then hollering OW! when he stabs his brain. It has a colorful animation that shows how swabs push wax and goo farther into your earhole and then bump up against your eardrum and play a rapid tattoo. We even get an actual doctor telling us how using a swab is bad bad bad bad bad. By the way, kids love it.

And guess what? If you call within five minutes they double the offer! Yes,  you get two Wax Vacs, one for each ear. All for only ten bucks! (Plus processing and handling, of course.)

Who can resist that? On second thought, maybe I can.

Criminal Mastermind

I love a stupid criminal.

Recently, a semi-masked man robbed the Family Dollar store right near my house. He was recognized by witnesses, video surveillance was set up at his residence, and he was busted shortly thereafter with the gun he used to rob the store.

This, my friends, is comedy gold.

First off, who robs the freakin' dollar store?? I mean, if you're going to risk prison for armed robbery, you might as well shoot (heh) for the moon and go for a jewelry store or a bank! Want to bet that the loot consisted of a handful of wrinkled up singles?

Second, he was semi-masked. What does this mean? I have visions of him wearing one of those little half masks that you get for Halloween, or maybe a bandanna pulled up over his nose ala the Wild Wild West, or perhaps he had a panty pulled over his head, as in Raising Arizona, but only as far as his eyes.

Third, he robbed a store less than a mile from his house! Clearly, our would-be thief has never heard the advice "don't shit where you eat." Combine this with the "semi-mask", it's no wonder several witnesses recognized him. I'm willing to believe that one of the rules in the Robbers Handbook is "Do not rob a store where you are known."

Of course, if you don't have a vehicle and must flee on foot, I guess it's more convenient to jack up a place near home. Then you don't have to worry about getting back there.

Speaking of home... do most professional thieves go home after a job? It seems to me you'd want to stash your loot -- and your GUN, by the way -- other than where you live. You know, so the cops don't find the incriminating evidence when they apprehend you after setting up video surveillance.

Anyway, he'll be celebrating Christmas in prison.

Happy Holidays dude!

I Want A Lozenge, Not A Pep Talk

I have been known to read self-help books, to listen to inspirational talks, and even to give a motivational speech.

Right now I have a cold. I'm achey and stuffed up. My head feels like a blivet. I felt it coming on yesterday evening, so I unwrapped a lozenge to soothe my sore throat.

And then I looked at the wrapper.

Yes. My lozenge wants to motivate me. I just want to sleep.

Something Was Fishy

I'm all alone just now. Joe has gone off to work and the kids (Kids. They are not kids. They are grown ass adults.) are off at the Renaissance Festival doing medieval shopping and show attending. Ergo, I am alone, save for the garden cats, who are yelling at me to give them some chow.

Shut it, garden cats. You have had plenty of chow already, and I will give some more when I am good and ready.

So!

I took yesterday off because SonnyeBoy and his sweetie came up to spend a couple of days with us. We all went up to the National Aquarium in Baltimore and had a grand old time ogling the undersea and tropical rainforest creatures. We saw jellyfish, sharks, seahorses, dolphins, rockfish, stone fish, one fish, two fish, red fish, blue fish. We saw Nemo and Dory, electic eels and manta rays, starfish and turtles, a chambered nautilus and a megalodon jaw fossil. We walked through the simulated rainforest and spotted a sloth and some fancy parrots, then shivered at the sight of the teeny tiny poison dart frogs.

Did you know that these lethal amphibians come in all sorts of colors and patterns? However, the deadliest of them all is plain white. It will kill you dead as a nit if you even touch it.

Then we went to an Irish bar and grill for a late lunch. Joe and I came home after that. The kids (!!) continued their adventure.

Yesterday evening I joined my group of high-school pals at a local pizza joint for dinner. As usual, we had a blast! The pizza joint messed up a few of our orders, but eventually (and after many inquiries and some nagging) all the food came out. I had only a salad, because I was still stuffed from lunch.

That was just as well, because when SonnyeBoy and his sweetie returned from their adventures, they brought a chocolate chip cookie dough cheesecake (from Cheesecake Factory, no less) with them.

So much for watching my sugar intake! (Just that once, though. Honest. I'm serious!)

 

Copy Editors are STILL Important

Folks, I don't look for them. I merely document them when I see them.

This typo is from an article on WaPo mobile. I think they might need to put a remedial proofreading class on the "shedule."

The next one is from a performance review form. I won't name the company, because it's not "relavant." However, they clearly do not have any "matrics" for measuring spelling.

Finally, we all know how evil those homonyms can be.

Personally, I'm against homonyms, especially when they insist on getting together with the antonyms and synecdoches. The next thing you know the similes and metaphors will want to get married, which will inevitably lead to the downfall of traditional sentence structure.

Yes, Copy Editors Are Important!

I saws this entry in DC Blogs -- a man after my own heart; thank you, Jon Lowder -- and decided to post some of the mistakes I've spotted recently in the Washington Post and the Post Express.

The Simple Typo

First, a simple typo that probably could have been caught by an automated spellchecker. So if the writer didn't use one, shame on him/her! Can you spot it?

Math Is Hard

Please, do your research. Queen Elizabeth II is celebrating her Diamond Jubilee, which means that she has reigned for 60 years.

So she became queen in 1942? Even if you didn't know exactly when she acceded to the throne, simple subtraction gets you to the right answer. (If that's too difficult, there's always Wikipedia.) She acceded to the throne in 1952, not 1942.

Damn You, Autocorrect!

Because "stirring" is spelled correctly in this example, I am going to take a wild guess and say that this looks more like an Autocorrect error. The word should be "Steering" -- this is a car review, not a recipe. Sometimes it pays to go with manual correct, kids.

The Unintentional Penis Reference

Ah, the Sports section! To be fair, this is not a typo or error of fact. It is, however... well, let's just have a look.

It's a twofer -- Johnson AND Wang!

(And I am, at heart, a pre-teen boy.)

All May Skate...Or Not

One of the many activities at this year's Weetacon was a trip to the local rolling skating rink, the Rola Rena.

I used to be able to roller skate. In fact, I even took lessons once upon a time, at the Congressional Roller Rink in Rockville, Maryland, which has been gone, gone, gone for many many years. Unfortunately, I was never very good at it.

Skip ahead about 15 years -- roller skating became quite the fad in the 70s. I was in college, and several of my pals took up the sport. They'd head for the parking garage next to the student union, head up to the top level, strap on their skates, and roll around and around all the way down to the lowest level. I was envious of this daredeviltry, but I was way too chicken to try it out.

One night we all went to a roller rink, where I did try to skate. I failed miserably, so miserably that a lot of the regular skaters used me as a push-off pole. I stumbled around a bit and then called it a night.

Fast forward to last weekend. We all got out of the Weetabus and headed into the rink for our private skating party. I conveniently forgot about my roller skating past, laced up my rented skates, and headed out to the floor. There I picked and lurched and inched my way around the rink, holding on to the wall for dear life.

There were lots of folks there who could skate. Some could skate really really really well, like the lovely and talented Shawn, who is in training with the Angel City Derby Girls, and my own personal savior, Sean B, who took pity on me, grabbed my hands, and skated me the rest of the way to the gate.

He was perfectly willing to continue to help me get my skating legs under me, and said, "Okay, first we go with two hands, then one, then you'll be able to go on your own."

I, however, know my limitations, even if I did ignore them at first. I got to the gate and thanked my benefactor profusely, releasing him to skate as he was meant to skate.

Then I slid down the ever-so-slight incline to the rest area and promptly fell directly on my ample ass.

Joe, though, did great! He made it around eight times!