My full time job is in sales, so I’m out on the road all day. And man, do I see some weird shit sometimes. Never fails to entertain me. So I started snapping some pictures. Here are a few.
“Honey, what should we do with this enormous sculpture of an elongated ampersand we have?” “Well, Dear, why don’t we put it in our tree? I usually feel the need to make associations between two things when glancing at trees, maybe this will help.”
Yes, thank you, Sign. Please stop anything involving Nicholas Cage having the potential to reproduce. Especially if it’s a three way where he has access to impregnating multiple women at once. We don’t need any more people who make movies like The Wicker Man and Bangkok Dangerous.
I’m not in Kansas anymore. Oh, wait, I am. On a business trip. No tornado shelters at home!
This guy’s commercial should say, “You should vote for me. My morals are in tact and the other guy has some major issues with Lust.”
Plastic women’s heads in his trunk. Let’s hope he’s a hair stylist.
Only in Manhattan.
Occupational hazard of every sales rep I know. Except this wasn’t a sales rep’s car (that I was aware of). Just some person with a penchant for TMI. (Please excuse grainy 70s porn picture quality.)
Same car as above. And if announcing to anyone driving past you like knockers enough to broadcast it on your vehicle wasn’t enough, he (it must be a he) had to put a blonde Barbie head on his car antenna. Her tits are pretty disproportionately large for her body size, so I guess that fits with the whole boob-liking thing.