Take This Job
I swear to Christ I'm gonna kill that photographer.
You know we have all these Dutchy towns with crazy names around here? Like Blue Ball and Fertility and Bird-in-Hand?
So she comes back tonight with my Page B1 big color art from the farmers' fair, and it's a photo of the semi-finals of the annual tug-of-war contest (finals are Saturday).
The photo features a team of firefighters. From Intercourse.
Try to write that caption with a straight face and an eye to all the
possible obscene permutations of misreading that someone no doubt will discover and rant about to my boss tomorrow.
At least it wasn't Intercourse vs. Bird-in-Hand. Then she tells me, with a wicked grin, "you know there's no tugging tomorrow. They're resting up for Intercourse."
You know we have all these Dutchy towns with crazy names around here? Like Blue Ball and Fertility and Bird-in-Hand?
So she comes back tonight with my Page B1 big color art from the farmers' fair, and it's a photo of the semi-finals of the annual tug-of-war contest (finals are Saturday).
The photo features a team of firefighters. From Intercourse.
Try to write that caption with a straight face and an eye to all the
possible obscene permutations of misreading that someone no doubt will discover and rant about to my boss tomorrow.
At least it wasn't Intercourse vs. Bird-in-Hand. Then she tells me, with a wicked grin, "you know there's no tugging tomorrow. They're resting up for Intercourse."
