From the time I was about 14, all my friends have been these artistic music playing types. When I was in high school, I always thought those guys were the sharpest people around. The “smart” kids didn’t hold a candle to them. There was this clever little band around at that time called “Tesla” who had this song called “Signs.” “Sign, signs, everywhere are signs, blocking up the scenery” was a lyric from the song. One day I realized that the band was named after a Croatian electrical engineer named Nikola Tesla. A far cry for something lame like “Dave Matthews Band.”

Anyway, on my recent trip back to the land of future president Barack Obama, I noticed a lot of signs, funny, terrifying, perplexing and otherwise. As it is my sworn duty to provide all of you faithful blog readers with a chronicle of all of this, here is a run down of the signs, signs, everywhere are signs that I saw in the good olde US of A.

First one:

This isn’t really a sign, per se, more like a t-shirt, but I still found it pretty funny. Question is, when will the beating exactly cease? Even funnier was the fact that I saw this at Newark Airport, not some store in the East Village. Weird. I almost bought this thing, but then I couldn’t figure out exactly where I would wear such a thing. To, uh, work? Yeah, not yet at least.

Up next, a hilarious sign from a Mexican joint in the city. They had a really nice quesadilla. I didn’t include it in the glorious gastronomy, but it was still pretty good. What made the place memorable was this hilarious sign:

I did get worried when the past about mentioning Boston while we were in there was mentioned. My parents live in Boston and that is kind of worrisome. However, the bit about the gentlemen lowering their collars was hilarious. I wonder if there is any way that could be sky written over New York City.

Next up, this little gem:

Not a clue what it means, but it just kind of caught my eye.

Another sign, courtesy of this young man in Times Square:

Thanks to his high pressure sale tactics, my window will now feature the Cheney-Satan bumper sticker. Like how Cheney gets top billing over Satan.

Next up, two interesting monuments from the great city of Boston. The first is something dedicated to the inventor of ether, that thing that you anesthetize people with:

A modern miracle for sure, but a statue? Well, that was kind of interesting. Here is the rest:

And, another statue of a person I’ve never heard of, described in the way you’d talk about a car:

Here is a sign, a sign my friend insisted on showing me, which is admittedly pretty darn funny too. He lives in a part of NY called Hell’s Kitchen, which sounds pretty funny, but isn’t really a good thing when you describe a neighborhood, so they changed the name. To Chelsea Clinton. Wait, isn’t there another person called Chelsea Clinton, who also happens to live in NYC? Well, yeah, that is true. It doesn’t stop her from getting a health clinic:

The whole thing didn’t come across, so here is the rest:

And finally, a sign for the train to nowhere, that leaves from track 2: