This past weekend, Smarticus and I took advantage of the gorgeous weather by visiting Jones Bridge Park to enjoy a walk through the woods and beside the Chattahoochee River. Like a dimwit, I forgot my camera, but my brother took this picture at the park the last time he was there. Talk about a gnarly tree, right? And we had a... narly time.
We didn't have the park to ourselves, but it wasn't too crowded, either. Unless you count the Canadian geese. Lots of them around. (Yes, before you ask, I DID ask to see their IDs, so I'm sure they were from Canada...) It was a hoot watching how some of the geese interacted. It looked like one gal was giving her mate a serious chewing-out; he kept trying to power swim away from her, but she stayed right on his butt with her wings flapping, giving him what for. Loudly. You didn't have to understand the language to know he was in deep doodoo. There were two mallards in the mix, too, who tried to blend in. There was also a heron, who didn't try to blend it at all. He was more interested in staying close to one of the fly fishermen, who was standing in the (cold!) water in his waders, leisurely whipping his line back and forth. The heron was watching the guy's every move like a beagle watching someone eat a burger, so I think maybe he was hoping for some too-small-to-keep trout getting tossed his way. In spite of seeing more fishermen in the (cold!) water than usual, we didn't see anyone catch anything. No problem. They all seemed to be content with catching the experience and a few rays. (Sun, that is, no mantas around here.)
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We crossed paths with one fella walking a pit bull. Smarticus said, "Pretty boy!" You know, just trying to be nice. We didn't like offer the powerful-looking dog a taste of our hands or anything.
The guy... not the dog... the guy snarled, "She's a GIRL!"
Smarticus apologized, but Mr. Surly didn't even crack a smile. After we walked a ways away, I told Smarticus in a breathy voice, "You shoulda told him, I was talking to YOU!"
Yeah, we crack ourselves up.
Something else we noticed at the park. There were signs warning people to pooper scoop after their dogs. There were also signs warning of the dangers of rapidly rising water when the dam did its thing, signs saying no alcoholic beverages were allowed, and others showing where to place hot coals after BBQing. But we didn't see a single sign saying anything about no smoking, much to our surprise. Also, nothing about no nudity, or no fornication. Um, not that we were looking to do any of those things. I mean, it WAS a little chilly.
But here's the thing. There was a sign citing an ordinance against making annoying noises. Which, the sign assured us, would be enforced.
Huh? How exactly, does one define an annoying noise? Someone singing or whistling off-key? A barking dog? A toddler pitching a tantrum? Loud stomach rumblings? Persistent toots and brrrrps of flatulence? (Since the sign didn't say anything about a ban on offensive odors, I presume flatulence in the silent but deadly category would be okay.) What kind of noise do you think should be banned from a park?
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Okay, how about some other signs we didn't see at the park, not that it would have mattered. Remember? This flake forgot her camera...
Gray hairs are signs of wisdom if you hold your tongue; speak and they are but hairs, as in the young. [Rabindranath Tagore]
(RATS! As if I'm ever gonna hold my tongue...)
I've done numerous posts in the past featuring some reeeeeeally funny signs. If you want to take a peek at some of them, just click on the funny signs tag in the sidebar.
In the meantime, how about some of these funnies:
- On a septic tank: We're #1 in the #2 business.
- Over a gynecologist's office: Dr. Jones, at your cervix.
- At a proctologist's door: To expedite your visit, please back in.
- On a plumber's truck: We repair what your husband fixed.
- On another plumber's truck: Don't sleep with a drip. Call your plumber.
- On an electrician's truck: Let us remove your shorts.
- On a dry cleaner's window: Grime doesn't pay.
- On a maternity room door: Push. Push. Push.
- On a taxidermist's window: We know our stuff.
- On a music shop window: Gone Chopin. Be Bach in a minuet.
- Outside a muffler shop: No appointment necessary. We hear you coming.
- In front of a funeral parlor: Drive carefully. We'll wait.
- At a propane filling station: Tank heaven for little grills.
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So what's your sign? You know, the funniest sign you've ever seen? For me, the laundromat near our dormitory had a sign in its window, saying, Grime doesn't pay. And then, there's this one:
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(In case you can't make it out, the sign at the back of this pooper scooper truck says, YESTERDAY'S MEALS ON WHEELS.) Hey, I guess any job can have a funny side with the right outlook.
Have a super weekend, y'all. Until next time, take care of yourselves. And each other.
I share the opinion of those of broader vision, who see in the signs of the time hope of humanity for peace. [Frank B. Kellogg]
Oh yeah, a final reminder. Two signed copies of Hot Flashes and Cold Lemonade will be given away on February 2 through a Goodreads giveaway. Interested? Just click on that handy-dandy badge in the sidebar. (Sorry, only open to entrants from Canada, Great Britain and the U.S. this time around.)
Got time for a fun video? Remember this song by the Five Man Electrical Band?