You know the Murphy's Law about how the Jelly side of the toast always lands on the floor. And you know the law about a cat always landing on its feet.
I'm working on a product I'm calling Cat-Toast. Maybe Feline Fried Bread? Tabby-Toast? Hairless Wonder Bread? Something like that.
We'll see how it goes.
On another note, in addition to the Boob Bowl, I like the wall-mounted Boob Bar as a conversation starter.
I think there is merit there, just trying to figure out what it is right now.
And on even ANOTHER note, I would like to relate to you an observation:
I was duped into going to Lagoon on July 4th. Being duped into going to Lagoon happens to me about every third or fourth year. I am not a fan of this place. But generally the kids like it, and I acquiesce every once in a while.
What can I say, sometimes I bend, people.
Anyway, I get within 500 yards of the gate, and I feel a strange sensation in my back pocket - an odd magnetic pull on my wallet. As I get closer, the feeling turns into a full-on vacuuming sound as the place sucks the money directly from my pants.
So, as I said, I had not been there in a few years, and every time I go there I swear I'll never set foot in the place again. I generally loathe the place.
So we go in and ride a couple of rides with the kids, and find a place to drop our stuff to wait for the fireworks, sending the kids off to be more daring than I was willing to be. By this time I have sustained a mild whiplash, the mechanical equivalent of a kidney punch, and a general loss of sensory function as a result of more-than-I-like centrifugal/G-forces. "I'm getting too old for this" was the direct quote from me to ThatOneWife. She concurred with my assessment. Oh, and I was also subjected to a hamburger that both looked and tasted like the underside of a manhole cover.
All of that I could live with. But here's the kicker. I'm a bit of a people watcher. A societal observer, if you will. And here are my findings: the place is filled with wife-beater wearing teenage thugs/gang-bangers-in-training, general trailer/white trash, fat mexican slobs/sluts masquerading as Puerto Rican Princesses to appeal to the above-mentioned thugs and bangers, Keystone Light drinking Nascar fans, and fat people in DIRE need of a shower, haircut, and/or some major personal maintenance. Many of these groups are NOT mutually exclusive either.
I'm just sayin'.