Blood Pressure And ShrinkyDinks

Every now and then I see things that tickle my funnybone.  Here are a few of the latest winners:

I found this sign beside a supermarket pharmacy.

I found this sign beside a supermarket pharmacy.

Thanks, but no thanks.  I’ve got more than enough blood pressure of my own after waiting in the interminable lineup.

* * *

I think somebody needed to look at this a little more closely before they approved the decal.

I think somebody needed to look at this a little more closely before they approved the decal.

Is it just me, or does that say “Stop quality driving”?  I think their cause has been widely adopted in Calgary.  Ain’t no quality driving here.

* * *

Saw this at the mall:  “Elevator temporally out of order”

Saw this at the mall: “Elevator temporally out of order”

I guess it kept arriving before it left.  Or wait, is there a Tardis in there?  Ha, I knew Dr. Who would have to update his look eventually!

* * *

This next photo confronted me on a news page.  (I added the discreet black box just for your sakes, my dear readers.  If you prefer the full monty, I’ll send you the unaltered version in a plain brown wrapper… for a price.  That’s called “monetizing your blog”.)

Just like the Sesame Street song, “One of these things is not like the others…”

Just like the Sesame Street song, “One of these things is not like the others…”

There was just so much about the first glance that made me laugh:

  1. It’s a staid and proper news site (note the seriousness of the other four items).  Business and finance, world politics.  And it had a gratuitous dick on it.  *snickers like a ten-year-old*
  2. When you look at it closely… (No, look at the background.  Stop trying to peek under the black box.) …there are several women standing around in dresses1.  How often do you see a guy hanging his junk out full spread-eagle in a public place?  Without getting arrested, I mean.
  3. It’s “Most Popular” and “Recommended”.  Guys, imagine the prestige of having your manhood voted “Most Popular”.  I don’t seem to recall that particular honour being bestowed in our graduating class – I think we just had a plain old valedictorian.  But ours was a little backwater school, so what did we know?
  4. And… just in case you didn’t realize what you were looking at, they labelled it.  In big red letters:  “The penis”.  Dang, I never would’ve figured that out on my own.  But then again, maybe they felt clarification was necessary.  Having seen the unaltered photo, I can only conclude that it must have been chilly that day.

* * *

Or maybe their model had been using this product (which I found in the Michaels craft store, in case you’re looking for last-minute gift ideas):

I couldn’t even hold the camera still, I was laughing so hard.

I couldn’t even hold the camera still, I was laughing so hard.

* * *

Would you buy ShrinkyDinks?  Who/what was voted “Most Popular” in your graduating class?  Am I the only one who snickered childishly at the misplaced dick pic?

________________

1The women were my first clue, triggering a vague recollection from my years of studying art history.  I didn’t recognize it at first glance but it’s actually a photo of a statue, which changes everything.  As we all know, marble dicks (regardless of inappropriate camera angles and cropping) are Art, and therefore Not To Be Sniggered At.  If I had known, I would’ve treated the subject with due respect.  Probably.

But it was still pretty funny that it popped up (*snicker*) on the news site after I’d snapped the ShrinkyDinks only days before.

22 Comments

Filed under Humour, Life

22 responses to “Blood Pressure And ShrinkyDinks

  1. Pingback: We’re All Naked | Diane Henders

  2. Hi Diane. Heat shrinks the shrinkydinks? Really? And there was me thinking it was the cold …

    Hope you’re ready for a good christmas 🙂

    Cheers!

    Like

  3. I didn’t know Shrinky Dinks still existed; they were popular in the 70’s. If I remember correctly it was heat that made them shrink. If only George Costanza had had a Shrinky Dink penis.

    Like

    • Wow, I’m behind the times. This was the first I’d ever heard of them. But then, I had a sheltered childhood. In our backwater town, ShrinkyDinks are probably just arriving now, along with bell-bottoms and tie-dye T-shirts.

      Like

  4. Snort! Okay, I’m giggling big-time. My visit to your blog has had the desired effect.

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  5. hey, how come it becomes a funny topic when a male wanker is involved, but its nothing but respect and adoration when its woman’s private parts? lol

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    • Discrimination is a terrible thing, isn’t it? 🙂 I honestly don’t know why trouser snakes are funnier than lady-bits. I guess for the same reason that a banana is intrinsically funnier than, say, an orange. It’s just one of those laws of nature.

      Like

  6. Well, Diane, I have the body of a Greek God, and I can honestly say ‘Shrinky Dinks’ – are they stickers? They look familiar, but I’ve never heard of them. As for that elevator… I have one just like it in my Mansion somewhere… 😉 Thanks for tickling my funny bone as well!

    Like

    • Hmm, I’ll have to come looking for your elevator when I’m visiting at your end-of-the-world party! And as far as I know, ShrinkyDinks are plastic/cellophane sheets that heat-shrink onto pre-made frames to make a sort of stained-glass-effect ornament. Or so I’m told…

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  7. Diane, Harper led me over here and I’m sure glad I followed. You didn’t disappoint. This was hilarious!
    Lisa

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  8. Well, you have to give the news page credit–at least they used proper anatomical terminology. So many other choices abound…

    Apparently I’m no more sophisticated than you (as if THAT’s a surprise to you), because one time my kid’s classroom made Shrinky Dinks for an auction project, and I could not keep a straight face while the other mothers discussed it. So serious they were!

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  9. First, I love your comment on the out of order elevator. Priceless! Second, I would have required a vertical black box. Finally, I never lie about anything except the size of my penis and only when my wife is not around to correct me. Have I said too much? HF

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  10. I wonder under what circumstances the sculptors of yore would’ve considered sculpting male figures with Ron Jeremy-sized ding-dongs.* Warmer temperatures, perhaps?

    *By “ding-dongs” I mean male appendages, not cream-filled snacks.

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