Really? REALLY? Ugh.

I know you’re all dying to know. And yes, the other side of the kiosk also read “Open Christmass Eve.” Way to go, Battlefield Lanes. You’ve successfully made Christmas a little less jolly for me this year.

Look closely. Can you see that somebody managed to take a high-resolution logo from Oreo and Kraft Foods (quite large companies with very strict brand standards, I’m sure), and obviously placed an apostrophe just before the S? It doesn’t even make sense! How can you screw up a logo that just exists?!

I found this sign in Las Vegas. OK, it was in the old part of Las Vegas. You know — the part where you can grab one of these Oreos and hit up the penny slots just before heading into one of the city’s classiest strip clubs. I absolutely enjoy spending a fair amount of time on Fremont Street because of its vintage Vegas feel, and even I will admit — it’s not exactly like one of those Fremont vendors is entertaining A-listers on HBO fight night at MGM Grand. Maybe something like this just helps add to its character. Ugh. My words are so empty to me.

I’d also like to add that I don’t even understand how you can deep fry an Oreo. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I must go have a heart attack from even thinking about it.

If you were to ask any of my friends why we decided to leave eastern North Carolina when we did, you may hear a variety of theories detailing the reasons we made the move. Many would tell you how much we missed our families. Some would say that we hated the fact that milk cost close to $5 a gallon and just had to get back to the Midwest. Liars might tell you I hated the beach and all of the sunny, blissfully happy days that came with living on the coast. But all of my closest friends would tell you it’s most definitely because of signs like this. Come on, Carolina Bagel. This makes me feel as queasy as that one time I drank milk and then went and played on the beach while getting tossed around in the waves on a 90 degree day. As you may imagine, it was not pretty.

And most importantly, thanks for sharing, Shannon. I couldn’t be happier that you’re still thinking of me.

P.S. The real reason? I was still bitter that the Tarheels beat the Illini in 2005. I could no longer live in Tarheel country, as I was beginning to feel like a traitor. After almost getting beat up at Gold’s Gym a couple of times late in the season for wearing an Illini sweatshirt, I decided leaving was for my own good.

Oh, the bitter, bitter irony. The enchanting story of a man who had scissors for hands (and one of my favorite movies of all time) is playing at the dollar theater in town, and the title is butchered on the kiosk. Shockingly enough, I let my frustration for this spelling error overshadow the fact that the worst movie on the planet (OK, maybe it’s not the worst… I did see The Transporter) was playing two weeks prior to me getting the chance to spend an hour and a half developing an argument for whether or not Anthony Michael Hall became a juicer.

Sorry Peg, but blending is not the secret to fixing the damage done. It is painfully seared into my brain! And of course, I still haven’t gone back to this theater, despite the fact that 4 of of the 5 shows would’ve been killer to watch on the big screen. Sigh.