Can't you smell that smell?

Hey everybody!  It's been a couple of weeks, I know.  We have been SWAMPED with kiddo activities...graduation parties, prom, more graduation stuff, etc.  That doesn't mean that I've stopped having bizarre things happen around me or interesting things to write about.  I just haven't had time to sit down and post anything.

I have tried to make myself little notes, or snap a picture of something that I mean to come back to and write a post about.

This is one of those things:

This was located in a truck stop/convienence store right on the Georgia/Alabama line.

In case you're having trouble reading because of my fuzzy-picture taking...this is a device mounted on the wall of a bathroom. For a quarter it will spray you with "cologne".

Your choices are:

Our exquisite replica of White Diamonds

Our exquisite replica of Liz Claiborne

Our exquisite replica of Pleasure

Our exquisite replica of Eternity

Our exquisite replica of Happy

Supposedly, this will make you "Feel Fantastic" and "Feel Refreshed"

Unless you forget to put your Marlboro out in the sink...because this shit IS highly flammable.

I have so many questions, I don't know where to start...

Who MAKES this contraption?

WHY?

Who USES this? (Obviously, someone did...they were so refreshed and fantastic that they pulled the plunger thingy practically out...it was kind of just dangling there)

What do these "colognes" smell like, for real? (Wanted to try it out SO BAD...did not want to ride from the state line all the way home in an enclosed vehicle if I got some of it on me...which I would have because, hello? it's me we're talking about.  Also?  Jeff may have not let me back in the van depending on how "exquisite" I smelled.)

Is that padlock really necessary? Really?

Update: cannon

When I am wrong, I will admit that I am wrong.  In this case, I still can't BELIEVE I was wrong...but I was.  My daughter can apparently sell ice to an Inuit...because despite my dire predictions I made here, she did, indeed receive permission to include a gun-powder-using projectile device in her physics project.

Here are some views of said project:



You do not see the cannon in any of these pictures...because I absolutely forbade its use in my livingroom. 

Here's the contraption in action:

And nobody shot their eye out.

Hold my beer...

Coming home from the beach this past Sunday, we were traveling along at a nice little clip..."B" was driving, Annette had called shotgun...Jenn and I are in the backseat.  We had just spent 3 of the most glorious days imaginable on the sugar sands of the Redneck Riveria (also known as Panama City Beach).   We were cruisin' along at about 55-60 mph up Hwy 231...when up ahead we see:

Me (from the backseat):  Hey, guys? Is that....???? NO!

Annette (looking up from her magazine): Oh. My. God!  Get closer, B!!  Get closer!!

Jenn: You have GOT to be kidding me!  This is like a safety message happening right in front of us!  Come on, B!  Get closer!

And so she did:

 

No, you're not wrong...it's exactly what it looks like:

We followed them for a good 5 miles (at 55-60 mph) before they finally slowed down and turned off.

"Bubba" (I assume) slid a titch...got a better footing...steadied himself and stuck his right arm straight out to signal their turn.

I'd bet real money that this escapade started out with a converstation very close to this:

Bubba's buddy: Hey, I gotta get little TammySue's moved over there to her mommanthem's this afternoon.  I borrowed Jethro's trailer, but ain't got nothin to tie 'er down with.

Bubba: Hold my beer.  I got this.