Today's stories [3.31.07]

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Tuesday's Wall Street Journal has an article about the Dutch takeover
of JFK airport's International Arrivals building. The Dutch have some
interesting ideas on how to clean it up: 
In Amsterdam, the tile under Schiphol's urinals would pass inspection
in an operating room. But nobody notices. What everybody does notice
is that each urinal has a fly in it. Look harder, and the fly turns
into the black outline of a fly, etched into the porcelain. 
"It improves the aim," says Aad Kieboom. "If a man sees a fly, he aims
at it." Mr. Kieboom, an economist, directs Schiphol's own building
expansion. His staff conducted fly-in-urinal trials and found that
etchings reduce spillage by 80%. 
"We will put flies in the urinals -- yes," Jan Jansen says in a back
office at the Arrivals Building. He is the new Dutch general manager,
the boss as of noon today. "It gives a guy something to think about.
That's the perfect example of process control." 
His New York public relations attendant titters. "Fine, laugh at me,"
Mr. Jansen says. "It works." 

A company takes out a newspaper advertisement claiming to be able to 
supply imported hard core pornographic videos. As their prices seem 
reasonable, people place orders and make payments via check.

After several weeks, the company writes back explaining that under the 
present law they are unable to supply the materials and do not wish to be 
prosecuted. So they return their customers' money in the form of a company 
check.

However, due to the name of the company, few people ever bother to present 
these to their banks. The name of the company: 'The Anal Sex and Fetish 
Perversion Company.'

Then there was the psychology professor, a Yankee's Yankee
and a feminist's feminist, who tells the following story
about herself to illustrate that doctorates don't necessarily
make you smart.
She was driving to a workshop in Atlanta from her home in Ohio.
It was about 10 am, and she'd been driving the entire preceding
day and night herself, and she was consequently not in the best
of tempers as she searched for a motel in which to crash.
A Georgia state policeman pulled her over, got out of his cruiser,
swaggered up to her driver's window, bent down, and drawled,
"Lookie here, darlin',"--uh oh, everybody duck--"Lookie here, darlin',
nobody blows through Georgia that fast."
Said the feminist Yankee overtired psychology professor: "Sherman did."

She says he was not satisfied merely to give her a speeding ticket;
he made her follow him fifty miles out of her way to Nowheresburg, GA,
and wait at the police station until three in the afternoon for a
circuit judge to arrive so that he could explain to her why it wasn't
the best idea in the world to be impolite to policemen, who were after
all interested only in creating the safest possible environment for
everybody including her, etc. etc. The lecture went on for about two
hours, she says, after which she was released to drive the fifty miles
back to her route and resume her search for someplace to crash. 

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