Taunting Death

The Old Fulton County Department of Health and Wellness in Atlanta, GA, has some eh… interesting… adornments.

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I’m not sure if you should be taunting death like this.

I mean if I were death… I might take exception and perhaps be extra assiduous when performing my duties in and around Atlanta. #justsaying.

Is Death… capitalized? Is he a deity or quasi-deity or just an employee? Maybe capitalize just in case…

Not Jason

I was getting coffee and a choc chip muffin this morning. My late week staple when things have largely started going sideways on me. A heavy set, bearded, behemoth gets out of his truck wearing a camouflage bomber jacket and sporting a Glock on his thigh. On the side of the truck is emblazoned ‘Argon security’.

He orders coffee and we stand together.

‘Would you consider yourself an “Argonaut”‘, I venture casually. He gives me a look like I’m mentally challenged. I point at the truck, ‘Argon’… as if to underscore my point.

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He gives me another look that I interpret as ‘are you high?’ God I wish I was…

Maybe they’re named after the inert noble gas? Although that makes no sense to me. I feel that I’m loosing this particular battle however and that he is no mood for chit-chat. I sigh. ‘Nevermind’. I guess were not going to be discussing the modern warriors penchant for tarn-fleck over golden sheep’s wool.

He’s ordered a caramel Macchiato. I judge him… albeit silently.

Pompeii v2.0

ie. the town in ancient Rome that was covered in ash when Mount Vesuvius erupted… (looks it up) in 79AD. My initial guess was only about 100 years off. What did we do before Google? Make stuff up?

My enduring memory of visiting Pompeii is that of a giant penis.

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Apparently dick jokes were a thing 2000 years ago. We’ve definitely moved on since then… I want to say we’ve taken our dick jokes online… drawing them out in beach sand, corn fields and on frozen lakes and then following it up with some adroit drone-work… but occasionally you will still find a giant schlong hastily illustrated on some suburban concrete canvas.

If a modern day eruption were to cover us in volcanic ash, preserving us for posterity… how would we look like to a future generation two thousand years from now?

Likely I would be caught in my natural state, occupying some weird, unergonomic position that is not quite supine cradling my Macbook and trying to take one last sip of coffee. Hopefully with my pants on. Assuming the latter, quite a dignified way to be preserved I feel.

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Not all of us will be that lucky though. I can only imagine our future progeny’s mouthing the words, ‘What… the actual… fuck is going on here… is that girl… wearing Crocs?’

To be fair I might be being a bit presumptuous when it comes to assuming a gender here…

Dr. Dog

I’ve decided this might be my favourite children’s book. Top five at least. Ostensibly because it features a Basset hound as a medical professional…

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You know its got to be good when the librarian has written this on the checkout… eh… tag… eh… thingy. (Seriously?!?!? Books can cause offence now? I wonder if Salman Rushdie gets a disclaimer like this)

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It is a book filled with ageless wisdom… (like how to avoid reinfecting yourself with worms)

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Personally I think thats great advice.