Hey Playmobil

Hey Playmobil,

If you come in for a sonogram but your healthcare provider gets you an MRI instead, they’re inflating your bill to get paid more from your insurance.

Also, DO NOT WEAR HEADPHONES in an MRI machine.

Also, they should NOT be drinking on the job.

UAG

Fro Goodness Sake, Part 2

As mentioned before, we've noticed the tendency for advertisers to depict African American women with typically big afros, as if that were the only hairstyle in existence for them. Since then, advertisers have completely changed their ways and show a wide variety of hairdos for black women. Just kidding. Here are more 'fros.




















As owner and head manager of Min's Beauty Supply, I find it personally insulting that advertisers cannot embrace the whole spectrum of beautiful hairdos for Nubian princesses: the doobie, the jerri curl, the Fantasia, the huge ups, the bing bong, the Mackenzie Crook, the autopilot, the manassas hangdown, to name just a few.

Until these simpleminded ad agencies expand their view of what we black women look like, this will be a struggle that all of us will have to bear.

An Imagined Conversation

"Hello. I'm here."
"Who the fuck are you?"
"I'm here to play the main stage at 9pm."
"Good one. I think you've got the wrong place, buddy."
"No, seriously, I'm the main act."
"You."
"Yes, me. I'm on the bill right there."
"No, sir. On the bill we have Kris Kristofferson, Merle Haggard, and George Jones playing a tribute to Waylon Jennings."
"Yes, and me."
"Sir, do you know where you are? You're at the Grand Ole Opry. Only country legends play here."
"Yes, I do play music from my country, too. But I'm mainly a classical guitarist. You can hear a lot of Spanish influence in my last CD, 'Romantico.'"
"Lissen, buddy. You're not playing shit anywhere here. Step aside. We're waiting for Willie Nelson to arrive."
"Like I said– I'm here!"

Unfortunate Logo of the Month

There's not exactly a plethora of vaj in a blog named "Eat a Dick, Joel," so it's always refreshing to find a nice slit or tomahawk wound when it wanders through our doors. But what's disturbing about this unfortunate logo is that the cooter looks propped open with chopsticks.

But maybe that's just the dirty minds of the EADJ editing staff. What did other people in the office have to say?

A "G" is born. -Larry

Cool but meaningless and dated. 2001 -Matt Webb

Someone really needs a trim down there. -Michelle Litos, who probably has used her ginormous box of Brazilian wax by now (see all of the May 3 entries)

Is this the e-vite for Boblett and Brad's going away party???? -Lauren F

Those 3 horizontal rectangular shapes might look nice Feeling like those arc shapes, top one going up, bottom One going down, and the center one emulating the center Shape (with the "G") but rotate 90 degrees and 1/4 as fat. Move the 2 dots around the "THE" and replace the arrows. - The always professional Andrea Park

Educational material for men of all ages. Prodding sticks, not included. - Nikki Baker, whose train keeps rollin'

A yonic logo to match a high class bar, unlike Cans. -J'Net

And what do you think of the logo, Pewter Bear?


Fuck off, Pewter Bear. You don't know shit.

Flea market, Montgomery! It's just like, it's just like, a minidick.

Joel spent President's Day tooling around the house scratching his now-defined pecs.

Later in the afternoon, neighbors in the complex complained of the smell when Joel decided to try grilling bologna and dick with vinegar on his porch. Noise complaints were also filed when Joel started cranking his Saigon Kick albums. Joel almost got arrested when he refused to turn it down until the last verse of "Spanish Rain" was done. Police, as usual, let him off with a stern warning.

Mrs. Betterham next door tried to start a conversation with him about her favorite soap, "Wicked Wicked Games." Either social awkwardness or painful memories of the botched screenplay prevented Joel from engaging with her. He instead stared at her pale, pendulous breasts hanging low in front of her belly, swaying lazily every time she shifted weight onto another foot. He asked her if she had a son or nephew nearby. Or anyone with dick.

Joel spent the rest of the day alone.

(pictured above, Joe Baran provides a visual balance to his incandescent forehead)