Gotta Get Something Down, On Paper

It's a Tuesday afternoon and your co-workers are huddled around the proverbial water cooler. Talk centers on that day's lunch of ultra-spicy huevos rancheros or that barbecue pork loin sandwich you wolfed down with a cheese fry chaser. Maybe it's a rancid cold cut combo footlong prepared by a nostril-less troglodyte at Subway (shudder) or lacking proper funds to exchange for goods and services, you've swallowed what's left of your pride and gone poking around the company cupboard, scrounging together a repast of stale croutons and cooking shortening (known as "vochkhar khorovadz" in the Caucuses, primarily Azerbaijan in the Wilder Regions).

A most unsavory repast, but sustenance nonetheless. Well, a few hours have passed and the wonders of peristalsis have forced your hand yet again. With sweat on the brow but with courage in your barbecue-clogged heart, you venture to the corporate washroom to "let slip the dogs of war". But what to do once the colonic tempest has ceased?... You paint! You paint by numbers and create a masterpiece, ephemeral and super-nasty, but a masterpiece, without question, without peer, without PAINT!!!

Thanks to Crumpler bags for, uh, this... abomination:

The color options made me throw up in my mind. How about you?

On a related note (absolutely not), while driving into work to set the distribution world upon its head yet again, the blog heard a really cool story about bike messengers in Kabul, Afghanistan on NPR. The catch, besides messaging in a dangerous part of the world, is that these messengers are missing limbs as a result of land mines. Give it a listen. Very interesting and will be useful in cleansing your mental palette of images of Crumpler toilet paper escapades: Kabul Bike Messengers