Trapped In A Cell: Part 1

And now the latest in a series of surely doomed regular features on Varsity Basketweaving: Collections of my own cell-phone photos with commentary, conveniently assembled in a feature called Trapped In A Cell. Enjoy.

i. Wendy, fast-food pitchwoman or psycho killer (qu'est-ce c'est)?
Date taken: 11:39 p.m. July 20. Location of photo: DVR freeze-frame of TV commercial.
In the latest ad campaign for one of my favorite fast food chains, an animated Wendy looks like a cute little girl until her pupils practically disappear, making her look like a satanic extra from another unintentional creepfest, "The Polar Express." OK, I'll eat a Spicy Chicken Sandwich! Please don't eat my soul!

ii. Condensation or Religious Experience?
Date taken: 11:31 a.m. July 11. Location of photo: Movie theatre restroom
I added the arrow for clarity, but this otherwise undoctored and unstaged photo features a Seth Rogen lookalike crying a single tear of joy on my Coke cup. Yes, it's only a perfectly coincidental drop of condensation, but faux-Rogen's 3D impression of a mournful Harvey Dent scared the crap out of me for a split second right after a viewing of "Hancock." If a crying Jesus reinforces faith in Christianity for those who witness it, does this mean I must worship Apatow for the rest of my life? I mean, he's OK, I guess, but I'd sooner kowtow to Scorsese.

iii. Well, hello my name is Simon and I like to do rehabiliation
Date taken: 9:17 p.m. July 10. Location of photo: Metro-North train car vestibule.
Yes, a train passenger was looking at me confused, perhaps trying to figure out which addiction demon I was trying to exorcise. (Answer: All of them.) At first glance, this just appears to be another eye-catching ad for the Canterbury Institute's rehab clinic. But upon further review, shift the circle 90 degrees clockwise and you have the exact color scheme for a childhood staple:

I guess the ad's primary demographic is children of the '80s who have replaced one increasingly frustrating addiction with a more destructive version. Almost any of these vices in extreme cases would pretty much ruin your chances of even turning the power switch on Simon, much less advancing past two moves. But maybe the right amount of cocaine would actually have you so wired that you'd not only win but also outlast the game's triple-A batteries before crashing in a heap of despair.