I have to start carrying our new digital camera with me to work. In the past three weeks I’ve seen two bizarre things that left me scratching my head.
1) About two weeks ago, while the wife was in China, I’m driving on Interstate 40 and I pass by this dirty white van. It was obviously one of those utility vans that construction crews or painters use. This one, however, was owned by a plumber. How could I tell? The name of the company (and unlike Mindcrime, there is no hyperbole whatsoever contained in my post) was Turdbusters. And the logo was a little brown character (looking suspiciously like Mr. Hanky from South Park) within one of those red circles and a line across it. I was laughing so hard I nearly hit the Volvo in front of me.
2) Two days ago, I’m driving into work, same stretch of Interstate 40 (maybe that’s the connection), and I come across an old flatbed truck tooling along. Not a big 18-wheeler but one of the flat-beds used in smaller construction and stuff. Normally you see them with a pile of 2x4s or a roll of cable or something like that on it. Well, not this truck. I noticed the blue flapping of the cover from about a mile away but it was moving slow enough (and was appropriately in the right hand lane) that I soon overtook it. I wish I hadn’t. As I got closer and could see more of what was on the truck, I realized they hadn’t done the best job with the blue covering. Only about half of the carcass of the horse that was lying on the bed was covered up; tongue dangling out, eyes white and rolled back in its head. I did a double take, surely I didn’t see what I think I just saw. Yes, I did. I felt sorry for the soccer mom passing by the truck with the kids glued to the window as they stared in horror and awe at the grisly sight. The guy driving the truck appeared to be completely clueless to the effect he was causing on the roadway. I was glad my wife wasn’t with me. She’s a horselover. I think she would have strangled the guy from our car; reaching her hands out like Mr. Fantastic from the Fantastic Four and throttling him as hard as she could, his eyes bulging and popping like twin soda cans in the heat. (Okay, I couldn’t resist the hyperbole, sorry.)
Anyway, this won’t effect Mindcrime at all. He lives in Taiwan. I hear they eat human fingers as appetizers over there.