Strange Stuff Finds Me.

…Like when I accidentally look up at the wrong moment and witness this awkward exchange.

Who knew? Dancer and Prancer greet each other just like dogs do.

Alabama is an interesting place. People are very passionate about their politics, their faith, their trucks, and their dogs. But not always quite as passionate about their spelling.

Eh, one out of two everys ain’t bad.

Also, at the DMV, you have two free choices for car tag designs: you can either choose “God Bless America” or “PC”. I mean they’re not going to hide it and call it “Nice Scenic Tag” or “Purple Mountains Majesty” – nope, they’re going to call it. You sir, are simply being politically correct.

(For the record I love God and I want Him to bless America but I have the PC car tag. Not sure how that happened but it is what it is. I hope God understands.)

The mall Christmas store always brings me great joy. This year, Chris and I took a walk around to enjoy the options we had available for our holiday decorating.

For instance, why put a star on top of your tree when you could have a resident of the Death Star?

Because nothing says “Unto you a Child is born” like Darth’s raspy whisper.

My favorite ornament in the store, by far, was this one. Which I can only assume comes in a series….

2015: I’ll be tan for Christmas.
2016: I’ll be sunspotted for Christmas.
2017: I’ll be prematurely wrinkled for Christmas.
2018: I’ll be biopsied for Christmas.

And then there were the food ornaments. So confusing. I mean, Antipasto is good but is it good enough to pay $10.99 to celebrate it on my Christmas tree? Not in any universe.

And who is so passionate about Garlic Knots that they’re like “yeah, I wanna hang THAT on my tree!”?

And apparently, somebody loves themselves the party tray from Roly Poly.

But maybe I’m just not thinking about this correctly. Maybe somebody out there has a food-themed tree and it’s just not complete without a collection of stuffed mushrooms that resemble full, open barf bags.

And that food tree without a properly labeled side dish of prosciutto and asparagus would not be a Merry Christmas for anyone.

But regardless. I get that this is supposed to be clams, but no. Just No.

Moving out of the food aisle over to the “let’s celebrate our screentime” section didn’t help.

Dear Baby Jesus, Thank you for coming to earth to save us all. And for my flat screen tv that is bigger than all of my neighbor’s.

And if you’re shopping for Uncle Raymond and the only thing that seems to fit his personality perfectly is this celebratory ornament, then perhaps just buy him a gift card to Radio Shack.

Moving on from the ornament store to a round of whiplash subject changes.

I ran across this 3-6 month old onesie and declared it the biggest lie ever screenprinted.

WHAT infant is grateful? Infants aren’t grateful for crap. Even though their cup runneth over with it.

I randomly spotted this on the sidewalk one day. And now I’m constantly looking behind me to make sure I’m not being followed by a green-tinted woman.

Noah drew me this sweet picture the other day. It’s Thomas the Train. And that…appendage…is the train conductor.

It might be my favorite picture ever.

We told the kids they could get one thing in the gas station and of course my kid wanted the one thing that was on sale for negative .38 cents.

I ran across this in the used bookstore. I laughed. And I hope the #1 tip is “You should have started in 2008. Haven’t you heard? Everyone says blogging is dead.”

So is Skeet the name of the man making my hot dog or is Skeet the result of my hotdog? Or yes?

Seen on the back of a baby changing table. No breakdancng, and no magically floating away in a graceful manner.

Seen at Staples in late 2015. Somebody buy Grandpa a smart phone.

Seen at CVS. If you’re buying your blue jeans in a box from the pharmacy, you’re doing it wrong.

One of our babysitters kindly bought our kids some Crayola Bath Tablets. Which first turned them and the bathtub lovely shades of blue and green. And then, when they got to the yellow tablet made their baths look thoroughly urinated in.

Just Say No to Crayola Bath Tablets.

If there’s a tiny pair of blue jeans on your parking meter, that means you don’t have to pay, right?

Does it give you extra assurance if they have neon yellow pockets?

(My imagined storyline: baby’s diaper overfilled on a walk. Mom left pants to dry on closest parking meter, and fully planned on picking them back up on the way home. Yes, that’s what happened.)

Seen, fully visible, from the Dairy Queen drive-thru.

Incidentally, I haven’t revisited that DQ.

This was in an actual survey I was asked to take by an actual company I’m actually affiliated with.

I’m pretty sure there’s not a checkbox that adequately expresses my feelings about “pre-chewing your child’s food”, and if only they had an option for “attach your own sarcastic meme”, and I’d be set for explaining how I feel about “eating your placenta.”

Chris and I went to a random Greek restaurant on one of our trips, and we knew it would be good when we saw this in the window.

But really. Who does the Baklava belong to – Burger, Lasagna, or Spaghetti??

Inside, we got more acquainted with their logo – perhaps a bit more acquainted that we would have preferred.

Is he….PEEING on Greece?!?!

BUT DARTH VADER HAD EATEN THERE. Like, the real Darth Vader of Christmas Tree Topping Fame. So clearly it was good.

And finally.

The most important step of starting any small business is to ALWAYS ask your friends what they see when they look at your proposed logo.

Because if you’re an Optometrist and you can’t see poo when it’s staring you in the face, then you might want to reconsider your career choices.