More On Urinal Cakes
If you read my previous post on 20 Sure Signs You're In A Fancy Public Bathroom you'll be familiar with the subject of urinal cakes. If not, you might want to brush up on the topic. Go ahead and read it. I'll wait.
For the women reading this: urinal cakes aren't cakes. Yes, the name is misleading. If you were to eat a couple you'd be digesting a block of chemical disinfectant meant to keep clean those urinal things males wee wee in. Consuming these cakes is neither safe or appetizing, nor capable of providing your daily recommended intake of vitamins and minerals. People, stay away from the eating of the urinal cakes.
A more sweeping generalization about cake also turns out to be false: that cake, any cake, doesn't talk. A man visiting the restroom at a New Mexician bar learns differently once he gets a talking to about drunk driving from his urinal cake. True story. Apparently manufacturers use a new and improved recipe that allows for recorded public service messages. They're selling like hotcakes. Why? Could it be the recorded voice jumping out of the cake? Hmm. What kind of voice would a urinal cake have? Why, of course: a sexy woman's voice! According to the Boston Globe, the lady cake even ends her spiel with, "Remember, your future is in your hand." Hah ha!
How sexy can any voice be, coming out of the toilet? Hearing those sultry words the first time, a drinking man's instinctively thinking, "Did I just hear what I think I heard? I'm either schizophrenic, drunk, or both." He'll select being drunk because it's the easiest choice and immediately call a friend to come pick him up. On (in?) the other hand, a sober man will figure out what's going on, become annoyed by the lady cake's assumption, and, in retaliation, he'll urinate on it.
I hope this thing reduces drunk driving. Governments might find other fun ways to help people. Like, imagine getting a letter from the IRS saying you won the drawing and won't be paying taxes this year—and it's for real. Or a Comedy Army that "kills" its audience with laughter. (Might the elite Green Beret be mimes?) And maybe the antics of elected officials would finally become truly entertaining, but only because they graduated from Clown College.
Read the full story: N.M. Orders 500 Talking Urinal Cakes (go to ABCnews.com)
For the women reading this: urinal cakes aren't cakes. Yes, the name is misleading. If you were to eat a couple you'd be digesting a block of chemical disinfectant meant to keep clean those urinal things males wee wee in. Consuming these cakes is neither safe or appetizing, nor capable of providing your daily recommended intake of vitamins and minerals. People, stay away from the eating of the urinal cakes.
A more sweeping generalization about cake also turns out to be false: that cake, any cake, doesn't talk. A man visiting the restroom at a New Mexician bar learns differently once he gets a talking to about drunk driving from his urinal cake. True story. Apparently manufacturers use a new and improved recipe that allows for recorded public service messages. They're selling like hotcakes. Why? Could it be the recorded voice jumping out of the cake? Hmm. What kind of voice would a urinal cake have? Why, of course: a sexy woman's voice! According to the Boston Globe, the lady cake even ends her spiel with, "Remember, your future is in your hand." Hah ha!
How sexy can any voice be, coming out of the toilet? Hearing those sultry words the first time, a drinking man's instinctively thinking, "Did I just hear what I think I heard? I'm either schizophrenic, drunk, or both." He'll select being drunk because it's the easiest choice and immediately call a friend to come pick him up. On (in?) the other hand, a sober man will figure out what's going on, become annoyed by the lady cake's assumption, and, in retaliation, he'll urinate on it.
I hope this thing reduces drunk driving. Governments might find other fun ways to help people. Like, imagine getting a letter from the IRS saying you won the drawing and won't be paying taxes this year—and it's for real. Or a Comedy Army that "kills" its audience with laughter. (Might the elite Green Beret be mimes?) And maybe the antics of elected officials would finally become truly entertaining, but only because they graduated from Clown College.
Read the full story: N.M. Orders 500 Talking Urinal Cakes (go to ABCnews.com)
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