Load o’ Ballog

In case of emergency, do not break glass!

As I mentioned in a previous post, people in Madrid airport seem more concerned about making sure people get condoms than painkillers.

So if you were a pharmacist in Madrid and you wanted to put a vending machine on the wall outside in case people needed something urgently after hours, what would that machine vend? Painkillers of some sort? Sticking plasters? Antiseptic cream?

You’ve guessed it, haven’t you?

When a bidet just isn’t enough…

For those who are a little paranoid about personal hygiene…

This little piggy…

I don’t eat meat.

But I don’t have a problem with people who do. Indeed, the human race evolved eating meat.

Although I avoid meat for purely sentimental reasons, I have to admire cultures that haven’t lost sight of the fact that meat comes from animals, not packages. Spain is one of those cultures. You wouldn’t see this in many Irish supermarkets.

If any children are reading this, those piglets aren’t sleeping. They’re dead. That’s where bacon comes from. Now I’m off to read Winnie the Pooh.

Night of the Undead Poultry

I’m in Boston at the moment and I had a chuckle when I saw this sign. Gives a whole new meaning to the phrase “Running around like a headless chicken.”

Free! Free at last! Oh, crap!

So there I was on Saturday at my local Carrefour supermarket in Madrid, perusing the massive seafood counter as I was planning to inflict a seafood Vindaloo on some unsuspecting Spanish friends. I looked down and saw a river crab on the floor, slowly crawling away from the display area. It was almost as if he were tip-toeing, desperately hoping no one would notice.

I took pity on the poor, little, red fellow, concerned that he might meet a grisly end under the heel of some shopper’s boot. Well, flip-flop anyway. So I gently picked him up, making sure not to treat him too roughly. Then, not knowing what else to do with him, and not having a river nearby, I handed him back to the fishmonger.

“Noooo!” I heard him cry in Crabese, “I thought you were my friend!”

“I am your friend,” I sobbed, “I saved you from being crushed under foot. But you are what you are… a filling for a Marie Rose sauce.”

And the moral of this story is…

Only those who really love you will tell you your true place in life.

He has by now passed through someone’s alimentary canal, but I will always remember him.

I need to relax. Where’s my tinkle ball?

Cats really do know how to relax…

Bonus points if you can tell me what film the title of this post comes from.

Transformers… or not

Hasbro’s Transformers have had such an impact on popular culture that they are even used as an example of the verb “transform” in Merriam Webster’s online thesaurus.

However, I found an interesting Transformer recently while out looking for a present for my nephew…

 Just in case you can’t read the notice I marked with a green circle, here it is enlarged…

I’m not sure the Transformer line would have been so successful back in 1984 if Hasbro had started out with this model.

So what’s this one called then? Staticus Prime?

Hey, I’ve just realised… if something claims to be one thing but isn’t, then it’s being deceptive… which makes Optimus Prime… a Decepticon!

More fun with my phone camera

I saw this sign just off Queensway in London W2. Imagine being able to introduce yourself at parties…

You: “What do you do?”
Him: “I’m an accountant. What about you?”
You: “I’m a Danger Man.”

I was walking out of the baggage area into Arrivals at Gatwick airport the other morning when I saw this gentleman. He very kindly let me take a photo. So the despatcher was a bit vague about whom he was supposed to pick up…

So handy having a camera in your phone.

In the old days, before we even carried phones around with us, never mind camera-phones, what did we do when we saw life’s little humourosities display themselves? I don’t ever remember grabbing a crayon and a piece of paper to sketch out an image of some fat bloke walking down the street with a squashed chihuahua stuck to the seat of his trousers.

Well, mainly that’s because I never saw such a thing, but if I had, I would have felt no impulse to record the moment. Nowadays, we do feel the impulse because we have the means (sort of like when everyone felt the urge to “shake and vac” when Shake ‘n’ Vac came out, but had never thought their carpets smelt bad before).

Anyway, I’m getting to my point. Here are some examples of life’s occasional tiramisu (that means “pick me up” in Italian… in the “revitalise me” sense, not the sleazy sense):

I was in Waterstone’s book shop today and as I turned to leave, my eye fell on a rack of novelty items. I was struck by the incongruity of an item which seemed to be titled: “THE RAPIST IN A BOX”. Fortunately, I was wrong.

Over the last few years, people have become concerned about the number of additives in their food and food producers have responded to this by removing many, if not all, the additives from several food products. But what do they do with all the leftover additives once your delicious ready-meal has been produced? Ever eager to turn waste into profit, they have produced a unique line of products that will no doubt find their niche. Down one aisle, you will find food products which are free of additives. But down another, you will find products which are…

A couple of months ago I was doing some maintenance work in my kitchen and had to go to B&Q, one of my local DIY superstores. Such helpful people they are. Not only do they sell toilets (and, no, I wasn’t installing a toilet in my kitchen), they also make sure you understand what they are for…

I shall be keeping my eyes peeled.