Monday, April 20, 2009

Life is a Highway...I Want Off at the Nearest Exit

We all know this guy, right? Likes to party, has crazy hair, friend to used car salesman everywhere:

Unfortunately, this is what happens when you place that guy smack in the middle of Times Square:

Inflatable Guy Suicide is a real issue, folks. First of all, do these Party Guys have any say over where they get placed? Sure, that Yellow Guy above has palm trees behind him and a fine specimen of a suburban parking lot to spend his days in. But what about our TS Guy? He gets placed on a traffic pole smack in the middle of The Worst Intersection In the History of Mankind. Tourists were probably trying get him to hold still for a photograph. Taxis were probably smacking his limbs every minute or two. He likely even got asked if he wanted discount tickets to a Broadway show at least a dozen times a day.

Does anybody ever stop and ask these Party Guys how they feel? (I'm looking at you, Dingy Elmo.) Think about it: day in and day out, being nothing but the plaything of the wind, dancing no matter your mood, having insanely unmanageable hair.

So one day, our TS Party Guy looked out into the sea of cars, of humans and of nothingness. And he gave one final exuberant jerky dance move that turned into a leap in front of the first 18-wheeler that he saw.

This is all that remains of him. Please, a moment of silence. And next time you drive by a used car lot, remember our friend who danced until he could dance no more.


  1. considering the fate of his extremities, I would suspect unmanageable hair isn't too high on his priorities list.