The Second Most Humiliating Thing That Happened to Maria Shriver Last Week...

...was that People Magazine published this picture of her (taken in 1977).

Gone Bananas!

Those of you who visit regularly, know I have a thing about stupid.  And, a thing about labels.  This story has them both, dipped in chocolate.  So, keep reading.

My son, Jonah, likes frozen bananas.  He gets a box as an occasional treat.  You can buy a box of four at Trader Joe's.  Or at least you could, until recently.  Maybe you still can.  I don't know.  The last time I was there, they were clean out.  In their place, were these:

Trader Joe's Frozen Banana Slices. 

Jonah was more than willing to take frozen banana slices in place of a whole banana on a stick.  The boy ain't dumb.  One look at the box and he knew the chocolate to banana ration had gone up considerably.  Or, had the ratio gone down?  This has something to do with fractions, right?  If I could do math, I'd be a doctor, not a lawyer.  The point is, there was gunna be more chocolate.

It wasn't until I got home that I read the label.  Not the back label, with all that boring nutrition information, but the front.  Do you see that line of tiny print across the top of the banana?  It says "serving suggestion."  Really?  You suggest I serve them like dominoes tumbling out of a fresh banana? 

I was about to go off on a screed about stupid marketing people, when I realized it is not their fault.  If you package food, and your packaging shows food that is not in the package, you are required by law to tell the buyer that.  This is because of lawyers.  Or, legislators.  But, they are all lawyers, too.  So, yeah, lawyers.  Stupid lawyers.  Or it is stupid buyers, because they can't tell that a box of frozen bananas won't contain half a fresh banana?

This depressed me.  This, the small box, the disproportionately high price (the ratio of the price to the number of slices in the box).  I was totally off Trader Joe's Frozen Banana Slices.  Then, I ate one.  Then two.  Then three.  Then I had to leave the room until Hubband and the children had finished the box.  (It is a very small box.)

These are so good, I wouldn't care if the "serving suggestion" showed chocolate covered banana slices shooting out the monkey's butt.  They are worth every penny!

So, run, don't walk.  Heck, DRIVE to a Trader Joe's near you and get a box.  GO!

Shrove Tuesday

Mardi Gras is but a week away.  Let this be a cautionary tale.

I suspect these are conservative home-school moms who forgot to make time for themselves during the rest of the year.

The Meaning of Life, Stuck to Your Bumper

If your car has something stupid to say, I will repeat it, and mock you in the process.

Seen:  One Prius, bearing the bumper sticker Renewable Energy IS National Security.  Appropriate enough on a Prius, but not when it is being towed by two bedroom recreational vehicle.

Seen:  Made in America, with Filipino Parts.  Um.  Oooh.  Ones bumper is not an appropriate place to discuss the details of one's conception.

Seen:  SHE WHO DIES WITH THE MOST SHOES WINS.  Wins what exactly?  You can only take one pair with you, baby.  Maybe I'm just a hater, as I have always been hard to fit, and now (that I am middle aged) wear only clogs.  God bless the Danish for their clogs!

Seen:  26.2  Do you know what that is?  It is the length of a marathon, in miles.  When one runs a marathon, one likes to tell everybody.  Fair enough.  That's a pretty impressive achievement.  But let me ask you, driver of the Ford Excursion bearing this sticker, why, if you can run so far, must you park your land yacht in a compact space to be closer to the door, rather than the full-sized space RIGHT NEXT TO IT?  Is that extra five feet really going to kill you.

I, for one, have no stickers on my car.  I can't stand the pressure.  People can be so judgmental.