A Problem

How Not To Design a Logo

DON'T make your logo mark in the shape of a vaj.


And if you must design your logo to be shaped like a vaj, DON'T chose the wrong color. Worse yet, DON'T highlight the letters of your name to spell out the name of that color inside the canoe shape. Freda.

The EADJ 2008 Presidential Election Update, Brought To You By Utz

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Utz utz utz utz utz utz utz utz utz utz utz utz utz. Utz Utz (D) utz Utz Utz (R) utz utz (utz utz)

Meanwhile, During Edit...

A Disturbing Tale of Extreme Neglect

EDITOR'S NOTE: The following account is a true story of house plant neglect and contains graphic photos and descriptions. Sensitive pussies are encouraged to read something else.

Over the summer, I witnessed my neighbor Peter abuse a plant in the most heartless way I can possibly imagine. It probably stemmed more from laziness than hatred, but the result was still the same: the needless, shocking death of an innocent plant.

It started out as a simple airing out of the plant. Letting it sit outside and enjoy some rays.


You'll notice that the plant is literally CHAINED to a wall. This is because neighbor Peter had lost another plant to a thief earlier that month.


One theory of why the other plant was stolen was because it was thought to be garbage. Pretty understandable, really.


Oddly, the plant– who we'll call "Seth" from here on in– was set back on the planter stool but never watered. Prisoners at the infamous Abu Ghraib were also forced to stand on platforms against their will.


The heat got worse as the summer went on. June was in the upper 90's almost every day.


Adding insult to injury, neighbor Peter installed an air conditioning unit in the window right above the plant, giving it occasional droplets of water but blasting it with even MORE heat.


Eventually, Seth refused to stay on the planter stool. He became withdrawn and moody.


And at some point in August, the chain that had kept Seth prisoner so long was loosened. But it was already too late. Perversely, a shovel had been placed near Seth, a hollow promise of replanting him somewhere moist and green. It was nothing more than psychological torture.


Seth became unresponsive and was almost complete brown by late August. Some community leaders held a candlelight vigil for Seth one night, singing "High Hopes" and holding hands.


Seth died September 18, 2008. He was finally placed atop his planter stool and put out with the trash. The trash he had shared so much time with in his last months of life. Seth will be survived by a car battery and two bags of shredded paper.



With Seth at rest, the longtime cycle of abuse by neighbor Peter has come to an end. OR HAS IT??!?!?!?!?!


DUN DUN DUUUUUUN!

Let's Crumple Up the EADJ Mail Sack To Make It Look Older Than It Is!

Submitted by Andrew Gall, a news item that J'Net would approve of:

Sublime Nonsense #7

"Tonight, on a very special Halloween Episode of Sublime Nonsense..."


Larry K is getting as prolific as that pervert who does those Love Is cartoons with the naked children.

Let's Make the EADJ Mail Sack Say "TUUUUUU!"

Submitted by Flicklicker, "Tuuuuuuuuu!!!!"



For those of you who don't know what "TUUUUUU!" is, watch this.

Sequels

EADJ ALTERNATE UNIVERSE: What If Andrew Gall Had Never Met Megan?

The following is an entry by the Andrew Gall from parallel universe #68456E, wherein he never meets his fiancée Megan M in Chicago:

Hi guys! It's me, Andrew. I guess a lot of you have been wondering what I've been up to lately since we all worked together at CK. Well, since getting laid off that place after we lost the Kia account, I had been keeping myself busy by working at That's Our Bag, working the register, restocking the window, stuff like that.

On weeknights, I've been pretty social– a group of cool guys I know from the gym have formed a World of Warcraft guild, and we call ourselves "OMG Crew," you know, like "Oh My God" crew? LOL! (that means "Laugh Out Loud")



Work-wise, I've been doing pretty well. The Manager Monica lets me sell on the floor now instead of merely answering the phone or restocking the back. But that also means I have to dress in khakis instead of shorts. A worthy tradeoff for a .10 per hour raise!


Speaking of money, I've been saving up for a Playstation 3 for some time now. I've already bought a controller and some game called "DragonForce," which I hear is pretty great in battle mode. My neighbor Keith has promised to let me borrow his blue ray Jenna Jameson porn so I can watch some on the DVD player. Maybe in a few months!

The EADJ Pun Sheriff Is In Town.

(cue Ennio Morricone music)

Round these parts, there's no sense of right or wrong. People feel they can let their wordplays and turns of phrase run wild. And because of that, nobody wants to be the lawman. Well, that's where I come in. Here, you risk your skin catching punsters and the juries turn them loose so they can come back and make you groan again. If you're honest you're poor your whole life and in the end you wind up dying all alone on some dirty street. For what? For nothing. For a tin star. But that's the job. I'm the pun sheriff of Butt Gulch.


Now some Hollywood studio tried to put up a poster near the telegraph office with a terrible joke about credit and shopping. I aimed my six shooter at their hand to stop them but hit their ankle. Looked like it hurt real bad.


Now, some different Hollywood types were doing the same thing over by the blacksmith, 'cept it was a movie about dogs. And the pun was worse. I aimed for their wrist but shot them in the neck.


Some fleabag newspaper in New York had a pretty awful pun in its headline (someone told me "BK" is often short for Brooklyn). That itself wasn't the problem...


...it's just that they ran it TWICE in the same publication. I aimed for their feet to drive them out of Dodge, but I hit them in the belly. That's a terrible place to get shot.


Mabel over at the dry goods store called my attention to a catalog that someone had left out front. Pretty standard, terrible stuff in it. But when I looked closer, I read one of the worst puns of my career as a lawman:


I rounded up a posse real quick and we rode out to Favorites Catalog Ranch. There we burned down the house and barn, raped the livestock, and I shot the owner in the thigh, though I was aimin' for his heart that time. Maybe I should start drinking whiskey again to stop my hands from shakin' so much...

The One Where I Introduce The Wife To A Rolly Wrap

Recently J'Net had been talking about trying someplace new for lunch, having maxed out on Delmonico and Pret A Manger (shudder). So I mentioned the excellent Rolly Wraps that they serve at Old Bridge Deli. After describing how they are made, J'Net matter-of-factly said, "Oh, so they're panzerottis." I didn't know what the hell a panzerotti was but assured her it wasn't that. It was its own beautiful new thing.


So yesterday, Tom & I met her for lunch, where she ordered a Rolly Wrap. Again, Tom did not order one. And I opted for a salad. J'Net was automatically impressed by how you could pick the ingredients or go off the menu. She reluctantly ordered a "Philly," knowing full well it wasn't going to capture the essence of a real philly cheesesteak (hardly anything in New York does).

Once the guy started tucking the dough around the ingredients, J'Net automatically said that it was definitely not a panzerotti.


A few bites into the Rolly Wrap, and J'Net was sold. When asked to describe the Rolly Wrap in three words, she said, "liquidy, warm, and perfect amount of bread."


The Rolly Wrap continues its slow dominance of Manhattan, New York, and the United States.

Let's Change the Favorites On the EADJ Mail Sack's TV Remote Just To Annoy It!

Submitted by Emily Kane, "Separated At Birth?"

Finding His Center

You know those "balance trainers" for skaters and snowboarders, which are essentially wooden boards on a spool? Well, Joel got one of those to "strengthen his core" whilst eating dick. His Erotic Yoga classes at Curves were doing a pretty good job of toning his legs and chest, but Joel noticed that he needed more. But with his time-consuming hobby of dick-consuming, it was getting hard (ha) for Joel to really get a wholistic workout. So he found a suitable training board in the latest Lillian Vernon catalog and ordered one. His chimp servant Chad Yarborough is expecting the package later this afternoon.

EADJ will update you soon on Joel's review of the balancing ripoff board.

Let's Thump the Bottom of the EADJ Mail Sack To Get Ketchup Out!

Spotted by J'Net in Chinatown:



I guess it's understandable seeing how there are ducks hanging in the adjacent window. But still, how awkward.

And Now, Vince's Uncle Roberto with How To Peel a Potato

Clean the potato. Hold the potato in your non-writing hand by its sides. Grip the knife handle in your writing hand, blade facing you. Curl your fingers around the handle, but not your thumb. Rest your thumb against the potato for stability. Pull the knife toward you slowly, skimming the potato skin layer off as you go. You must work carefully, maintaining complete control over the knife so as not to cut your other hand. Continue the process, rotating the vegetable to achieve the best angles for potato skin removal.

And speaking of skin removal, any of you ladies in your twenties who are spending money on chemical peels and exfoliants and whatnot, don't. I've driven quite a lot of rich girls going to senior prom who will look like leather wallets later in life. So I'm telling you, you'll regret it later in life. Just saying.

They're Back!