Wednesday, February 13, 2008

Sign of the Times

Last night, driving home in blizzard number eighty skillion and three, I stopped to grab a large diet beverage, thinking that if I was going to spend my evening in some god-forsaken ditch, I might as well be refreshed and alert. As I drove down the street trying to figure out which pair of tire tracks was the one true entrance back onto the highway, I noticed the sign at the gas station said:


All I could guess was that in the midst of posting this lovely optimistic thought the snow hit with such a force that they couldn't find the sign anymore and the job was left undone.

Either that, halfway through "Think Spring" a decision was made that a better sign might read

$1.99 / LB

but as he climbed down from his ladder to get the appropriate letters, he was eaten by a pack of polar bears.

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