This door at work signifies that I'm losing accuity when it comes to my heightened sense of found irony.
I walked past this door three times this week, noticing the sign taped to the front.
At no time until the third incidence did the message of the note strike me as something that needed to be documented.
This disturbs me.
Filtering all things stupid and weird is a talent that, quite frankly, gets me out of bed in the morning. It gives me a purpose, it pushes me though my day in anticipation of what I might discover.
I mean, how do you walk past this sign and not lunge immediately for the camera? I did this not once, but TWICE.
Guy, I'm sure you're the Roger Ebert of Redbox, but your three minute dissertation on Rachel McAdams while I was waiting to return my crap movie came off kinda pervy.
My friend, Rich, sent me this photo during a Target shopping excursion:
A poodle? Sure. I could understand a poodle.
A beagle? That's just kinky.
Clearly, I had water retention issues from an early age.
With all due respect to my dear friend Al over at Bike Stories, perhaps Tampa isn't ready to be a bike commuting kind of town.
At least not from a fashion and personal hygiene standpoint.