Attention, Please

I Love Batman (Mi Amor)

This is a fascinating piece of vehicular finger-dust-painting I came across in the parking lot of the Santa Cruz Boardwalk. I feel there's a story in there, just waiting to burst out in all its Spanish superhero glory.



I'd like to invite you, the readers, to flesh out the story behind this inscription in the comments (which I will then fashion into a movie treatment and sell for a cool million). But seriously, after the strength of your entries explaining the plot of Toto's "Africa," I have absolute confidence you can figure this one out.

In non-Spanish-Batman news, I've got some exciting stuff on the horizon, which I will tell you about in the weeks ahead. In the meantime, please enjoy these recent efforts of mine from around the web:

• Brazil: Nuts?
  
• It's the Most Grobanful Time of the Year
  
• 6 Things You Really Need to Know About Ben Affleck
  
• When Freedom of Religion Goes Too Far
  
• China Pulls Ahead in Race to Conquer World... Records

Covering All the Bases

This restaurant is opening up near my Dad's house. The phrase "all things to all people" comes to mind. Personally, I'm looking forward to sampling that Italian Barbecue--throw another lasagna on the grill, Luigi!

Speaking of all things to all people, I've got a post up at the new Cracked blog, which is beta-testing this week. Check it out.

Thank God I'm Not This Guy

... Found in my dad's garage. (No wonder the population was so much lower back then.)

I Would Like to Return My $1.4 Million Car, Please

...this one appears to have been squashed.

LOLmets

Laughing to keep from crying, really.

Each Culture Celebrates My Birthday in its Own Way

[Pic via Yahoo.]

Poetry in Chalk

Every so often my impulse-purchase cameraphone justifies its presence in my life. For example, it occasionally allows me to preserve for posterity a variety of urban text pieces ranging from the plainspoken ("Ricardo is a Pimp") to the inscrutable ("Kyle Does Not Equal Poopy"), which I am then able to share with you. Today, I present three mysterious and wonderful recent additions to the collection.

First, a sad commentary on how childhood summertime in America has changed completely:



Followed by a gently polemical suggestion to a nation divided:



... and finally, that most poignant and eternal question:

One Mean Set of Wheels

This badass ride is occasionally parked outside my office. It's a converted version of one of the little glorified mopeds the traffic cops drive, and no, your eyes don't deceive you--that's a weatherbeaten, one-armed, nearly-decapitated E.T. stuffed toy mounted on the roof. I'll bet the chicks dig it.

One-Stop Shopping for All Your Headless Child's Needs

A Note

Hi everyone—

I know 98% of you are visiting this site today looking for pictures of Britney Spears' ladyparts, but I'm sorry to say you won't find them here.

Instead, please enjoy this picture of a delicious sausage, egg & cheese bagel which I ate in New York once. You'll be much better off than if you'd seen you-know-who's you-know-what. Trust me on this one.

I'm Glad Mr. Sulu Came Out of the Closet, But This Is Taking It a Little Too Far

My Favorite New Logo

Would you like pepperoni on your penis and testicles, ma'am?

The Incontrivertible Finality of a Two-Thirds-Eaten Hamburger

In two views.





[Simia quam similis, turpissimus bestia, nobis.]

I Went to a Portuguese Bullfight and All I Got Was This Lousy Picture of Jerry Springer*

*Also I got a T-shirt.

First of all, congratulations to everyone who ventured a guess as to the identity of the mysterious styrofoam whatzit (MSW) pictured in the previous entry. They were all very well-constructed responses, and I would have said any one of them could be correct, if I didn't already know that the object in question was Stephen Hawking's superintelligent function-graphing toilet seat cover.

On to new business. This past Saturday, C-Baby and I headed into the Central Valley for the finale of the thankfully little-known Portuguese "bloodless" bullfighting season. (I place "bloodless" in quotes because there is often bleeding, but not by the bull. In fact, unlike Spanish bullfighting, which seems sadistic to me, Portuguese bullfighting is in practice a mainly masochistic event. For a slideshow of one of last year's fights with explanatory commentary, click here.)

We were able to see a pretty decent variety of thrills and spills--including a particularly pesky bull which tossed two matadors within a minute, one of whom came back to finish strong after crashing to the dirt in a position the human body should never be in--along with the pickled beans, dolled-up ranchers' wives in heels, plethora of glow-in-the-dark virgin statues and other touches which contribute to the dusty appeal of the event.

However, unlike every other bullfight we've attended in the past, a gradual crescendo of murmurs in Portuguese and English hinted at something big taking place at the end of the event--and lo and behold, after the sixth and final bull headed out of the ring after his day in court, a chant which had been bubbling below the surface finally broke into a full roar: "Jer-ry!Jer-" and so on.



Anyway, the gist of the thing was that Springer--who you may have heard of from his stint as mayor of Cincinnati--was going to be performing the Paso Doble on that wonderful masses-opiate Dancing With the Stars, and needed to shoot some scenes to pump up his bullfighting cred.

According to the show's website, "the Paso Doble ... should create a Spanish Bull Fighting atmosphere. The Paso Doble is the dance for the Man, which allows him to fill the 'Space' with strong three-dimensional shapes and movements danced with 'Pride and Dignity.'" In this case, Springer demonstrated this "pride and dignity" by strolling triumphantly into the ring (where only minutes before teams of Portuguese-Americans had risked life and gonad jumping on giant enraged animals) while children were prodded to throw roses at his feet, twice. (In his defense, Jerry conceded that "they wanted me to shoot something here to make it look like I know something about bullfighting.")

The website continues: "The woman's role varies depending on the intepretation of the dance... [she] can take the role of the matador's cape, the bull or even the matador at different times within the dance." This was demonstrated by the painted blonde hussy who serves as Jerry's dance partner holding her index fingers to her head and tromping around like a bull. It wasn't nearly as charming as it sounds, which is not very charming. In fact, it was even less charming than that.

The high point [spoiler alert, for those losers who watch the show] was when the producers convinced Springer that they were about to release a bull, sending him cowering for the exit--only to send out a tiny calf (generating a chorus of "awwww"s), which seemed terrified of the blonde hussy, who kept prodding the poor creature in an attempt to get it to "charge." We took that mildly-entertaining moment as our cue to split, which was probably best because I'm sure they recreated the hilarious surprise multiple times to get the right shot.

Anyway, I hope they don't make a huge deal out of it on the show, because then everybody will find out about the bullfights and they'll become really popular and then be outlawed after Pam Anderson chains herself to the bullring and is accidentally gored by an escaped bull, popping her left implant.

Just remember: I was into watching bullfights before it was cool.

Name This Mysterious Styrofoam Whatzit Found in My Office

Bonus points for telling me what it does. (To be clear, I'm not looking for the actual answer. I want you to gird your creative loins and come up with something good.)

It's good to see that Alyssa Milano isn't letting her body hair get in the way of being fashionable.

Take Me Out to the WULAD

Don't get me wrong, I'm as thrilled as the next fan that the Mets won their first division title since 1988—I just think the celebration got a little out of hand.

Call to Arms

Oh man—we'll never defeat the Islamic radicals if they start sprouting extra arms out of the tops of their heads.

I Know

Since I've been asked to ride the Junkiness train for another week, posting here at good ol' WULAD will be spotty for a while longer. Have you perused all the time-tested junk in our overflowing archive? Have you?

In the meantime,

• be sure to inject your Junkiness daily;
  
• don't confess to any sensational crimes unless you can prove you committed them; and
  
• tell me what's happening in this picture: