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how to run a public transit system. or not.

problem :: construction has restricted lanes on a major artery causing traffic buildup on several nearby street.

solution :: reroute buses to perfectly adequate nearby streets, because car drivers apparently haven't figured out that they're available for that purpose. ["ooh look! decorative streets honey!"]

problem :: commuters need to know where to catch the bus now.

solution :: put big day-glo signs up on the new temporary stops.

problem :: commuters need to know that the stops have moved, or else they won't start looking for temporary stops around the corner or down the street.

solution :: we're sure they'll figure it out eventually.

wrong you time-wasting imbeciles! it's a really important part of the process that you tell people their bus isn't coming, or at least that it's not coming where they expect it. you can put notices at the stops. you can make the changes on your website. you can tweet the changes in between messages that say there are no interruptions in service. ideally, you do a combination of these things so that no one spends 20 minutes in the rain before deciding to send out a search party. it's important that you do this because it's your job and because it's the only way to avoid irate customers writing blog posts calling you imbeciles and douchebags. douchebags.

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as long as you're here, why not read more?

jihadvertising?

i keep seeing this ad for tictac candies:



am i the only one who finds the suicide bomber clown at the end a little unnerving? all the nice natural things like the bunny and the [extinct] woolly mammoth and the fruit get devoured by a trying-to-appear-nonthreatening-but-obviously-psychotic clown who then blows himself up. congratulations, tictac, i think this ad has landed you on about a dozen watch lists.

oh and by the way, showing me that your product will somehow cause my stomach to explode in a rainbow of wtf makes me believe that doing consuming tictacs would be a worse dietary decision than the time i ate two raw eggs and a half a bottle of hot sauce on a dare.

mental health mondays :: the dangers of diagnosing

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it's a bit of a rhetorical question, of course, because i already had an inkling that my precocious childhood self might have been onto something when she declared herself a "winter". not that she knew what she was talking about, of course, but sometimes even fools say the right thing without meaning to. even a stopped clock tells the right time twice a day. [unless you're in europe and use a twenty-four hour clock, which actually makes a lot more sense.]

as with all the other seasons, winter is divided into three parts, the true winter at the centre, flanked by neighbours who carry a hint of the adjacent …