Today I went to pick up my mail at the UPS Store. I use those guys for my business mailing address because I used to move around a lot and it was just easier to use them as my mailing address and forward everything than having to make sure my address has been updated in every nook and cranny of every database of everyone and everything. I once found out the Department of Energy had been sending grant funding papers to an address for over a year that was 4 years and 3 locations back. They almost dropped my application because of that, and I know I updated them of my new address on two separate occasions.
Anyway, I had to take the back roads to get to the highway because of all the damp lipper traffic.
This turned out to be a good thing because I’ve wanted to get a picture of this Mexican place for a while. You know how it’s called Engrish when Asian cultures use badly translated English phrases (happy fun joy time!), especially in technical manuals, etc. I call this situation Englican, because well, they aren’t Asian. Maybe this isn’t nearly as bad as some of those Engrish examples, but this restaurant’s awning has always bothered me:
This bothers me for two reasons. First, the use of the apostrophe is incorrect. Second, here’s a list of the words on the awning: Nacho’s Quesadilla’s Tortilla’s Burrito’s Taco’s Enchilada’s Tamale’s Tostadas – W.T.F. ?! So Tostadas doesn’t get an apostrophe? Every time I drive by that place I’m tortured by the unknown. What was going through the mind of the sign maker when they created this? Was it intentional, or was the lack of an apostrophe an accident? A mistake? A mistake that turned out to be correct? I wallow in anguish wondering, hoping, wishing I knew the answer to the question; why?
Story onward! So after getting my mail, as usual the person who puts the “low priority mail” (magazines, etc.) into the mailboxes had dumped into my box The New Yorker and Esquire addressed to the box above. Unfortunately, as usual I didn’t discover this until I was already well on my way back home. Sorry duder, those mags are mine now. Consider it payback for the people below my mailbox never returning my misboxed mail. Yes, that makes perfect sense in my head
The cover of Esquire had a closeup of George Clooney on it, which you could tear to separate the top of the head from the nose, and the nose from the mouth bits to reveal Barrack Obama’s bits underneath.
Inside were more celeb closeups that you could mix and match. That was kinda cool, but ultimately held my interest for about 193 seconds. After which, I performed a Rhinectomy on Mr. Clooney and placed his nose on the dash of my car.