On the throne

One of the great things about growing up in advertising is the fact that I never grew up.

Never had to.

I go (go, being relative, as it often means coming downstairs and stepping into my den) to work wearing shorts, a T-shirt and flip flops. I often don't shave, sometimes don't shower. And still have the sleep patterns of a teenager.

It can safely be said that thirty years later, this 14 year old is still a 14 year old.

So it only follows that like many adolescents, I am still amused by ca-ca jokes. Here, we see leaders of the free world during their "Exit interviews with Mr. Brown."

If I had the wherewithal, I'd magnify these images, frame them and place them above the mantelpiece in the living room. Of course my wife might have something to say in the matter. She's a little picky about home decorations. And even home supplies.

She recently chewed me out for bringing home the wrong trash bags for the bucket underneath the sink. True story.

I'm not sure my choice of plastic was that bad. Or if it was the hormones. The Estrogen guessing game never seems to end.

In any case, I'll probably get chewed out again for bringing up the tale and going public with it.

It goes without saying, especially now, that this Scatsterpiece is not up above the fireplace.

And by the associative law of mathematics, neither is this one:

But never let it be said that I don't have an appreciation for fine art.