Their visit also brought tourism, though I had initially sworn not to put them through anything touristy while they were here. Instead, as soon as they got arrived I immediately put them in my less-abominadable Honda Civic and drove down to Dana Point, a quaint little town near Laguna Beach that Genya and Anne's great-great-great-great Grandfather had supposedly founded. There's a big statue of the great Richard Henry Dana Jr. in the town's coastal park, complete with rugged frontiersman expression and grass growing on the top of his head. I'm not sure what statement the grass is making - perhaps something about Richard Dana's legendary commitment to the well-groomed lawns.

As I have yet to locate a Jury Point in Southern California, is was nice to walk around with the girls and throw some Dana-weight around. Short of demanding a 2% cut of the town's sales tax, we did help ourselves to a free tour of one of the town's antique clipper ships, which had been opened for a flock of school children who were still waiting to board it for a field trip. I thought we should have asked for a free whale-hunting voyage on the boat or at least a key to the city, but apparently the Dana's have gotten less rugged and more polite these modern days.

But by far, the highlight of the trip was a series of safety-precaution garbage cans that dotted the Dana Point coastal park. Yes, that's correct - the highlight of the trip was garbage cans. Here's why:

Now, I've always been a big fan of ridiculous safety signs, as illustrated by my diligent Roadtrip recording of some of America's most inane caution markers (such as the road construction signs in Georgia and North Dakota, and the cliff-warning sign at Crater Lake in Oregon. But this carefully-crafted and cartooned garbage can warning is among the best ever.

I think this picture pretty much speaks for itself, but I particularly like that not only is the stickman hooking up with a fish underwater, but he's also still holding the culprit liquor bottle. It's great that the artist felt it was necessary to spell out the entire word "Smooooch", and I also like the fish's somewhat disinterested expression, as if this kind of thing happens all the time, and he's not planning on getting attached.

Also note the attention paid to background detail. Apparently, drinking alcohol and making out with fish underwater also makes neaby boaters party down in their watercrafts, as well as making nearby fish become intensely confused.

Here are several other awesome garbage cans:

Ghetto Getty - 3/22/05
A missed note on Dana Point - in the center of the city, there are eight streets in a row named the following:

- Green Lantern
- Blue Lantern
- Ruby Lantern
- Copper Lantern
- Golden Lantern
- Crystal Lantern
- Violet Lantern
- Silver Lantern

Some cities prefer the "1st St, 2nd St, 3rd St, et cetera" method, but hey, whatever works.

On Thursday we went to the Getty Museum, took pictures, and, in the spirit of St. Patty's day, got wasted on wine in the museum courtyard. Here's an cool flower picture that makes a good desktop background (click on the picture to get to the high-res version, then right click to save it).

And here's a picture of Genya and Anne, all messed up on wine. I didn't bother to make a high-res version of this one.

Sexy Vegetables - 3/23/05
I don't know why we got to talking about this, but when Genya and Anne were in town a lively debate arose over what is the sexiest vegetable. A single conclusion was never attained (nor was a reason why we were talking about such an inane topic in the first place), but it became clear that there are definitely three levels of sexiness in vegetables:

1) Sexy
2) Unsexy
3) Neither sexy nor unsexy.

As with any pointless categorization exercise, it is very important that one sticks to a rigid system for assigning classifications to varying sexy vegetables. The sexiness of a vegetable must not come from any perceived comparison between its shape and that of a human; for instance, the dumpiness of a squash versus the lithe, feminine curves of a chili pepper. Nor can sexiness come from the vegetable's name, lest the rutabaga be at a clear disadvantage against, say, the kumquat. Except that the kumquat is a fruit, but you get the idea. And, God forbid, the sexiness of a vegetable should under no circumstances be determined by what the vegetable, in someone's twisted imagination, could be used for.

Instead, the sexiness of a vegetable must determined by an overall, Gestaltist impression created by each vegetable's unique aura. So after long deliberation, Genya, Anne and I decided upon are three vegetables that we felt well represented each of the three sexiness categories.

Vegetables that are sexy
Tomato	Artichoke	Edamame
Vegetables that are neither sexy nor unsexy
Lettuce	Potato	Okra
Vegetables that are unsexy
Asparagas	Cauliflower	Cabbage

So there you have it. Do I need to go into why an artichokes is sexy, or why a cauliflower or a bowl of stewed cabbage is not? I don't think I do.

Sexy Fruit - 3/24/05

Fruits that are sexy
Strawberry	Grapefruit	Kiwi
Fruits that are neither sexy nor unsexy
Papaya	Persimmon	Pomegranate
Fruits that are unsexy
Uglifruit (obviously)	Rutabaga (it's not just the name)	Durian

After consummate research, the durian is the grossest fruit or vegetable possible.

Overall, fruits are sexier than vegetables. I think it's the whole seed-carrying thing. Plus they taste better.

Sexy Produce Posts Taken Too Far - 3/25/05
So having now discussed both sexy fruits and sexy vegetable, I'm unable to resist recalling a third, related discussion we once had in a bar in Minnesota. It's pretty bawdy, but I've come this far, and hey, this website gets visited all the time by people looking for "Men's Butts" and "MIDGET THUG GAY". If you're already offended, don't read any more. The conversation hinged around one simple questions: "What fruit or vegetable would you most want to have sex with?" Before I go any further I want to mention that this question was to be qualified by some kind of mitigating condition, such as "...assuming there was a gun to your head," or "...assuming someone gave you a million dollars to do it." That being said, who wouldn't bone a fruit or vegetable for a million bucks? I guess someone with a produce-fetish might do it for free, but so far I haven't had any hits for "WATERMELON BUMP UGLIES".

For females, the question is obvious, gross, and in my opinion, already been discussed way, way too much. For males, though,it's a little more interesting, and this is the direction our conversation took, yielding a few different answers:

- The Pumpkin. This reminds me of the joke where a guy stops in a pumpkin patch to have his way with one of the orange fruits growing there. He's in mid-deed when a cop taps him on the shoulder and the guy whirls around, his orange partner stuck in an embarrasing, American Pumpkin Pielike position. Thinking quickly, the guy feigns surprise, looks down, and goes "What? Damn! Is it midnight already!?" If this punch line isn't enough to convince you of the plowing potential of a pumpkin, I have two and a half words for you: Jack-O-Lantern.

- The Squash. The squash was nearly rejected because it's basically the same thing as a pumpkin, but c'mon. It's a squash. It's also a gourd, and the phrase "I coited with a gourd," is just too funny to pass up.

- The Chiquita Banana. I'm really going to get in trouble for this one, but it was suggested that in Mississippi where Genya grew up, it was not uncommon for teenage boys to forego the usual tube sock or folded kleenex or brother's baseball glove and instead do their puberific business into a banana peel. Think about this, and tell me it doesn't make sense. The banana peel is just going to get thrown away anyhow, or tossed on the floor for someone to hilariously slip on. The Chiquita variety was chosen partly for it's characteristic healthy yellow hue, but mostly for the sticker. Dirty magazines are hard to come by when you're 13 and living in Mississippi, and is there really a finer woman than the Chaquita banana lady, seductively sporting her fruit-basket hat at you stare down at her mid-banana portrait? I submit that, at least on banana stickers, there is not.

So there you have it. If you're offended, it's your fault for reading this. I warned you.

I'm going to go have a banana.

The Last Entry on Genya and Anne's Visit. Promise - 3/26/05
Have you ever been in a conversation that reaches a really weird topic, and you stop and think "Hey, why are we talking about masturbating to Chiquita banana stickers? How did our conversation get here?" Then you trace it back and enjoy recalling the topic path that led from one thing to another and then spiraled madly out of control. That's what happened during our car ride back from Dana Point, where everything in the last three entries was covered. Then we said fuck it and started playing MASH.

MASH is a game that all teenage girls play where you list a bunch of possible husbands, possible future jobs, possible living arrangements (Mansion, Apartment, Shack or House - which is what MASH stands for), then eliminate things at random until your future is set. In some versions of the game there's even a TRUE/FALSE option, where depending on which is selected, your future might actually come true (because obviously celestial fate hinges on a "T" being circled rather than an "F" on the back of somebody's Teen Vogue). Anyway we ended up playing this, although since I'm a guy some new cool categories had to be introduced, such as "How You Die."

Turns out Anne is a very fortunate MASH player, as dictated by her future as President, living in a Manhattan mansion married to Gael Garcia Bernal, and driving her 2 children around in her vintage Porsche until she dies of a heart attack. The only redeeming aspect is that last one, though I would have much preferred she die by my suggestion, "In a pool of vomit."

Turns out I am a less fortunate MASH player: Although I am married to Anna Kournikova, we live in a shack in North Dakota and drive a 1996 Chevy Cavalier, and I'm pretty sure Anna's going to leave me when she finds out I'm a male stripper. Also, our 12 kids will probably wear out those shapely hips of hers, driving me to depression terminating in my committing suicide by jumping off the Golden Gate bridge.

By the way, both of these futures are TRUE.

Fruit Corrections - 3/27/05
April makes a good case for the papaya being moved from the "Neither Sexy Nor Unsexy" group to the "Sexy" group. Let's read:

<<<
Hi Paul,

Papaya's are definitely a "sexy" fruit. Papaya is actually slang for a female sexual organ in some Latin American countries. Just had to debate your classification of Papaya as neither sexy nor unsexy. Maybe you just need a picture of one cut open?

~April
>>>

I don't know about the picture, but that "Latin slang" thing definitely charges the imagination.

And yes, Sarah, you're right. The tomato is a fruit, not a vegetable. It's still damn sexy though.

Finally, nobody seems to believe me that the durian is the most disgusting fruit. Actually, nobody even seems to know what a durian is. Here's a better picture:

I'm telling you: grossest fruit in history.

More on Durians - 3/29/05
...because obviously everyone wants to hear more about Durians.

According to Genya, "Durian fruit is the nastiest-tasting fruit ever. I had an Indian professor in college who brought one in. It was foul, and he said you either love it or hate it. He thought it tasted like paradise." So I guess I was right about that. Also, Sam reports that "Durains (sic) are featured in the Nintendo gamecube game 'Super Mario Sunshine'". Why anyone cares about that, I don't know, but it makes the website.