(We happy ewes?)
I don’t know about you, but I think the quality of signage in America is deteriorating at an alarming rate. “No Shoes. No Shirt. No Service” used to be de riguer. Last week, the waiter at Denny’s took me and my grand-kids aside to show me his new nipple clamp!! Apres le deluge, I say!
The furniture store across the street from my therapist’s office has been “going out of business” for eleven years. Should I help her get a good deal on a sofa, get it reupholstered, or get off the couch and make decisions for myself. Therapy is a divan institution, isn’t it!
And what exactly is the implication here?
Across the bridge where I get the Metro, I can see this sign:
At first I thought I a was a pervert, ’cause I remembered “humping” as something we did deep into the Canarsie swamplands of Brooklyn on the rare days that Hank Shapiro got his dad’s car and Trina O’Sullivan would do her little dance for the astonished Yeshiva-boys like me who thought she was God’s gift to puberty.
I thought “humps” were activities teenaged boys resorted to they couldn’t get their pants, let alone themselves, off.
When did bumps become “humps”.
And what should we make of this sign? Is it a warning that you’ve eaten too many Big Mac‘s and have to make a bee line to the crapper?
I had real problems with this sign. My “critical” side kept saying, “Shouldn’t it be obvious that Germans aught-to-bahn this disgraceful digestive act?” “But many will still forgive me, especially those living in the Black Forest“, his better self re–torted.
Yes; signs can be educational and informative. Even humorous, if you have a mind for these things. For example, here’s a Tour De France road sign describing Lance Armstrong‘s career in 2012:
|“||Oh, your red scarf matches your eyes
You closed your cover before striking
Father had the shipfitter blues
Loving you has made me bananas.
—– —– —–
I sing it to my wife, each year, on our ann-adversity!!
—– —– —–
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