For the fourteen-ish months I've been down in NC, I feel like I've been straining to report the same kinds of interesting, odd, and mildly insane experiences I had up in D.C. Little did I know that, just like Dorothy Gale, if I ever go looking for craziness again, I won't have to look any further than my own office break room. Because if it isn't there, I never really lost it to begin with. Is that right?

Oh of course it is! All this time, I was overlooking this abundant source of entertaining chestnuts--WORK!


As you can see from this picture, someone decided that it was "Mexican Week" at our offices. I can understand your difficulty in sussing that out, seeing as how every 3rd letter is cut out of white paper and then pasted onto...white paper. Trust me, it's no more readable in person. Everyone who comes into the kitchen has the same reaction; squinty eyes, furrowed brow, and the repeated mantra of "mx...an...ee??"


I can only assume that the da Vinci behind this masterpiece was too busy focusing on the details that represent life as a person of Mexican descent to worry about how legible the sign was. Details such as taco seasoning:















Or corn (née maize):




















Just an FYI, I've been to every Hispanic-advocacy group's website I could think of, and this is most definitely not any sort of nationally recognized appreciation week. So, clearly, this fool just decided to make up her/his own celebration. And who starts it on a Friday?? I ask you????