(no subject)
this is part of an email i got from emily nelson. the entire thing was pretty much ranting about warning labels and sarcasm. it was pretty funny. her friend wrote this:
>Above: Warning taken from Police Force Soft Target Set, a toy gun purchased
>from a grocery store. The saucers it fired nearly went across the room, but
>only if you walked four inches, picked up the bullet and shot it again many
>many times. You had to shoot it from point blank range, it didn't have
>enough force for your skin to bother to register something hit it, and if
>there were winds in excess of 2 miles per hour in your face, the bullet
>didn't have the strength to leave the chamber. Most times in fact, you had
>to point the barrel down and make sound effects when the bullet slid slowly
>out onto the floor. So it's really disturbing that something as harmless as
>this needed to give us four safety regulations, but not even close as
>disturbing as the retarded guy they dressed up in a cop costume for the
>front of the package.
>
>You almost can't pick a product up without laughing out loud. A plastic bag
>will tell you not to put it in an infant's playpen. A bottle of detergent
>might tell you not to eat it. Who the fuck thought I was going to eat
>detergent? "Honey, this makes our glasses spot-free, and I bet it tastes
>great on a cracker!" Do the plastic bag manufacturers picture us standing
>around a playpen and deciding whether or not to decorate our babies' cribs
>with plastic bags?
>Wife: "You know, sweetheart, it looks like the baby's crib needs a few more
>plastic bags."
>Husband: "That's right, honey. And if we covered the entire bottom in
>choking hazard brand plastic bags, we wouldn't have to change the sheets
>for weeks! We could just tip the crib and let all that time-consuming
>babymess drain drain! drain!! away from our memories!"
>Wife: "All that sheet changing. All that cleaning. How did we ever get by
>without plastic bag bedding?"
>Husband: "Plus, they make a great dental dam to keep those sores of yours
>off my face!"
>Ridiculous warning labels come from two places: fucking idiots and people
>pretending to be fucking idiots for the purposes of a lawsuit. If people
>find out you're intelligent, you're going to have a hard time convincing
>them that you didn't know it would hurt if you poured hot coffee on
>yourself. If you say something like that, you better follow it by saying,
>"UURBLLGGGG," blowing spit bubbles, and shitting in your pants. A non-idiot
>is never going to tell a room full of people that they ate an odor eater
>because "the box didn't tell them not to." No, if you managed to get to
>adulthood, chances are you've figured out what products kill you when you
>eat them, and what's okay to pour on yourself. It's only a matter of years
>before we won't even be able to watch TV because the screen will be
>obstructed by giant words saying, "DO NOT RAM HEAD THROUGH. NOT TO BE TAKEN
>INTERNALLY."
>
>
>Whose Advice are we Taking? A Closer Look.
>
>
>Above: a helpful message from the Surgeon General, ruler of the doctors.
>Below: a helpful message from Chuck, screen-printing/decal line supervisor,
>plastic bag factory.
>
>
>We don't listen to warning labels, and I can prove it. On every pack of
>cigarettes, it TELLS YOU IT'S GOING TO KILL YOU. This isn't a warning label
>on a plastic bag that was written by some asshole at the plastic bag
>factory. The warning on cigarettes comes from the Surgeon General. You can
>ignore advice from non-surgeons. If your stupid friend tells his girlfriend
>the key to curing her cold is plenty of rest and giving him head, she'll
>remind them, "Hey, you're not a doctor!" right before she gives him head.
>Well the Surgeon General is a doctor. In fact, they're the supreme
>commander of doctors. If doctors were to start a war against the bowlers or
>the bird watchers, the Surgeon General would have the biggest hat and stand
>at the back of the army shouting, "Hold the line, men! Take two of these
>FISTS and call me in the morning!" Read the pack of cigarettes. If the
>Surgeon General tells you something might kill you and give your future
>kids extra toes and eyes, listen to him. Do you
> need a warning from the Surgeon Jesus before you start taking advice?
>
ah, hahaha. it made me chuckle. it was a really SUPER long email though. like i said, that was only part. a very small part.
im hungry, but i am finally going in for that cholestorol check, so im not allowed to eat....... (sigh)
>Above: Warning taken from Police Force Soft Target Set, a toy gun purchased
>from a grocery store. The saucers it fired nearly went across the room, but
>only if you walked four inches, picked up the bullet and shot it again many
>many times. You had to shoot it from point blank range, it didn't have
>enough force for your skin to bother to register something hit it, and if
>there were winds in excess of 2 miles per hour in your face, the bullet
>didn't have the strength to leave the chamber. Most times in fact, you had
>to point the barrel down and make sound effects when the bullet slid slowly
>out onto the floor. So it's really disturbing that something as harmless as
>this needed to give us four safety regulations, but not even close as
>disturbing as the retarded guy they dressed up in a cop costume for the
>front of the package.
>
>You almost can't pick a product up without laughing out loud. A plastic bag
>will tell you not to put it in an infant's playpen. A bottle of detergent
>might tell you not to eat it. Who the fuck thought I was going to eat
>detergent? "Honey, this makes our glasses spot-free, and I bet it tastes
>great on a cracker!" Do the plastic bag manufacturers picture us standing
>around a playpen and deciding whether or not to decorate our babies' cribs
>with plastic bags?
>Wife: "You know, sweetheart, it looks like the baby's crib needs a few more
>plastic bags."
>Husband: "That's right, honey. And if we covered the entire bottom in
>choking hazard brand plastic bags, we wouldn't have to change the sheets
>for weeks! We could just tip the crib and let all that time-consuming
>babymess drain drain! drain!! away from our memories!"
>Wife: "All that sheet changing. All that cleaning. How did we ever get by
>without plastic bag bedding?"
>Husband: "Plus, they make a great dental dam to keep those sores of yours
>off my face!"
>Ridiculous warning labels come from two places: fucking idiots and people
>pretending to be fucking idiots for the purposes of a lawsuit. If people
>find out you're intelligent, you're going to have a hard time convincing
>them that you didn't know it would hurt if you poured hot coffee on
>yourself. If you say something like that, you better follow it by saying,
>"UURBLLGGGG," blowing spit bubbles, and shitting in your pants. A non-idiot
>is never going to tell a room full of people that they ate an odor eater
>because "the box didn't tell them not to." No, if you managed to get to
>adulthood, chances are you've figured out what products kill you when you
>eat them, and what's okay to pour on yourself. It's only a matter of years
>before we won't even be able to watch TV because the screen will be
>obstructed by giant words saying, "DO NOT RAM HEAD THROUGH. NOT TO BE TAKEN
>INTERNALLY."
>
>
>Whose Advice are we Taking? A Closer Look.
>
>
>Above: a helpful message from the Surgeon General, ruler of the doctors.
>Below: a helpful message from Chuck, screen-printing/decal line supervisor,
>plastic bag factory.
>
>
>We don't listen to warning labels, and I can prove it. On every pack of
>cigarettes, it TELLS YOU IT'S GOING TO KILL YOU. This isn't a warning label
>on a plastic bag that was written by some asshole at the plastic bag
>factory. The warning on cigarettes comes from the Surgeon General. You can
>ignore advice from non-surgeons. If your stupid friend tells his girlfriend
>the key to curing her cold is plenty of rest and giving him head, she'll
>remind them, "Hey, you're not a doctor!" right before she gives him head.
>Well the Surgeon General is a doctor. In fact, they're the supreme
>commander of doctors. If doctors were to start a war against the bowlers or
>the bird watchers, the Surgeon General would have the biggest hat and stand
>at the back of the army shouting, "Hold the line, men! Take two of these
>FISTS and call me in the morning!" Read the pack of cigarettes. If the
>Surgeon General tells you something might kill you and give your future
>kids extra toes and eyes, listen to him. Do you
> need a warning from the Surgeon Jesus before you start taking advice?
>
ah, hahaha. it made me chuckle. it was a really SUPER long email though. like i said, that was only part. a very small part.
im hungry, but i am finally going in for that cholestorol check, so im not allowed to eat....... (sigh)