Police escort for zebra.
That picture has nothing to do with my post. I just like it.
While I was fooling around today (I’m not working until Wednesday), I was singing Popeye the Sailor Man to myself. I had a realization. (And myself is very fond of that song.) On to the realization
I always thought this song was propaganda deployed by my Mother to get me to eat spinach. Then I got to the verse “Popeye the sailor man lives in the garbage can.” Wow, what’s up with that? I never thought about his super humble abode. I think the subliminal message communicated here does not match the intended propaganda.
I can’t remember a time in which I wanted to live in a garbage can. As a matter of fact the only person I knew who lived in a garbage can was The Grouch over on Sesame Street. He…
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