After such a somber week, I figured it was time for some humor.
I have a friend on Facebook, whom I won’t identify because it’s a vanilla account with his real name. But he is freaking hilarious. One of his “things” is to Photoshop himself and his little pug dog into everything you could imagine — old movie stills, works of art, etc. He even put his face into the Mona Lisa. Sometimes it’s really irreverent — I won’t tell you what he did on Easter, but I almost peed myself looking at it.
He also has a blog he calls his “enemies list.” Every week, he creates a tongue-in-cheek list of people who have annoyed him. A lot of the time, it’s just humorous digs at his friends. Other times, it’s people in the media.
A week or so ago on FB, he claimed it was “Fresh Spinach Day,” and he posted a cartoon of Popeye with his ever-present can of spinach (and with his own face cartoonized, replacing Popeye’s), with his pug in a sailor cap with a pipe in his mouth. It was very cute, but I couldn’t resist: I commented, “If it’s Fresh Spinach Day, what’s up with the canned spinach?”
Today, lo and behold, for the first time ever, I made the enemies list. Here is the entry, in all its glory:
Erica Scott. Wednesday was officially Fresh Spinach Day so to comemorate it I cranked out an illustration that was kind of cute, with me as Popeye and my beloved pug Winston as Popeye’s dog getting ready to chow down on some colon-healthy greenery. Ms. Scott is a proofreader by profession, which means that she gets paid to condescendingly point out other people’s mistakes. So it was a matter of professional ethics that she felt compelled to respond “So if it’s fresh spinach day, what’s with the canned spinach?” There’s nothing more enjoyable for me than doing something artistically creative simply for the fun of anyone who wants to take a peek at it and be immediately slapped down for making a minor miscue in my labors. But Ms. Scott made a fair point; the holiday is explicitly celebrates “fresh” spinach whereas the raspy-voiced mariner with the deformed forearms favors the preserved variety. To make it up to her, I’m going to propose that her birthday of September 22 be recognized as National Hemorrhoid Day. It seems the perfect time to recognize a throbbing pain in the ass.
(The throbbing pain in the ass is a double entendre, since he knows I’m a spanko. Well played, my friend.)
I’ve never so thoroughly enjoyed being flamed. But just so you know, I had the last word. My comment? “It’s ‘commemorate,’ not ‘comemorate.’ :-Þ “
It feels good to laugh. Have a great weekend, y’all. 🙂