Would-be tattoo parlour owners in Key West, Fla., may want to invoke the Jimmy Buffett precedent if their applications get turned down.
The southernmost city in the United States denied tattoo artist Brad Buehrle an application to set up shop, asserting it wouldn't be in keeping with the "character and fabric" of its historic district, as The Key West Citizen reported. The district court agreed.
But Mr. Buehrle wasn't deterred, taking his fight to the 11th Circuit Court of Appeals (Docket No. 4:13-cv-10103-JEM, in case you're interested). When first arguing its case, the city twice made reference to the Jimmy Buffett song Margaritaville, in which a man chugging down margaritas says of his new tattoo: "How it got there, I haven't a clue."
In its ruling last week, the appeal court noted that the city feared that "rash tourists will obtain regrettable tattoos, leading to negative association with Key West."
Not so, the appeal judges said. In a footnote to their 14-page decision to send the case back to the lower court, the judges made the call that the song's narrator "seemingly far from suffering embarrassment, considers it 'a real beauty.'"
Key West probably wishes it had just left Jimmy Buffett out of it. But that's what happens when you try to bolster your case with lyrics from seventies easy-listening hits.
Just a tempest in a teacake
They're very touchy, those Scottish nationalists.
Still licking their wounds after their 2014 bid to convince their countrymen to leave the U.K. failed, some have taken umbrage at what they see as a snub to a Scottish icon from one of their own.
The object of their ire: the makers of the Tunnock's Teacake – a marshmallow-topped biscuit covered in chocolate, or as Guardian writer Audrey Gillan describes it: "a dome of cheapish chocolate covering a plasticky-tasting mallow ball that sits on top of an almost foosty (meaning gone off) biscuit."
But their yumminess (or lack thereof) notwithstanding, some eagle-eyed Scots noticed Tunnock's advertisements in London didn't carry the traditional Scottish "lion rampant" symbol that has always graced Tunnock's treats. To add insult to injury, they were being pitched as "Tunnock's Great British Teacake," as The Telegraph reported.
What self-respecting Scot wouldn't be outraged? Well, most of them, actually. But a few are, and have set up a Tunnock's boycott on Twitter. "Scottish National Party member Gary Elliot railed that it was nothing less than a "brazen rejection of Scotland."
Disclosures suggests everyone should just take a deep breath and not, as Ms. Gillan suggests, get their tartan knickers in a twist. Or, as one tweet put it more succinctly: "Oh, get a grip. It's a bloody teacake."
But will it translate into cash?
What some in the tech industry have seen as the holy grail of gadgets – a real-time wearable language translator – is now a reality.
Japanese startup Logbar has unveiled the iLi (hmm … wonder where they got the idea for a name starting with a lower-case "i"), a pendant that allows its wearer to translate among Chinese, Japanese, and English in real time, as Business Insider reported on Tuesday.
According to reporter Matt Weinberger, it actually works, although he conceded that because he doesn't know any Japanese, and is equally ignorant about Chinese, he's taking it on faith. It's spouting some foreign-sounding stuff, at any rate.
Strangely, Logbar neglected to put the company name on the iLi website. That's probably explained by the reception a previous Logbar product received. A finger ring that was supposed to act as a motion controller turned out to be a major flop – so much so that some of its backers who raised $1-million through Kickstarter slammed it as "the worst product ever made," which is pretty bad, you have to admit.
Logbar's reputation unsurprisingly took a beating. Let's hope it doesn't get lost in translation.
Thick as a brick, or a banker
Are you dumb enough to be a banker?
Disclosures isn't suggesting it's a stupid career choice – if you want to potentially make buckets of money, it's one of your better options. But according to a study of MIT grads published by Harvard Business School, students who went into the financial industry weren't the sharpest knives in the drawer.
"I find that academic achievement in college is negatively correlated with a propensity to take a job in finance," wrote business administration professor Pian Shu.
Prof. Shu's study looked at Massachusetts Institute of Technology graduates between 2006 and 2012, and found that those who started careers in finance had lower grade-point averages than their peers, took fewer courses, and were generally less academically inclined, as Quartz explained.
So shut that book and put your feet up, kids, if you want to rake in that serious cash.
Quitting? Here's 10 grand
Quitting doesn't pay, unless you're Julie Tracey or one of her colleagues.
Ms. Tracey put in her notice at New York-based online lingerie company Adore Me, and so staff held a sendoff at a local bar. That's when chief executive officer Morgan Hermand-Waiche presented her a cheque for $10,000 (U.S.). And in December, another employee, who left to move west, also picked up a cheque for 10 grand.
While many startups offer on-site gyms, fancy cafeterias, and other gimmicky perks to attract and retain talent, Mr. Hermand-Waiche says Adore Me's payoff is one more way to demonstrate that the company treats its employees well, he told Bloomberg. And not everyone gets the golden handshake, so it motivates employees to be more dedicated so they can snag a bonus when they do go.
And Ms. Tracey's emotional reaction at her going-away bash must have been another shot in the arm for her colleagues' morale.
"I burst into tears," she said. There's probably 1,000 pictures of me sobbing. I was totally blown out of the water. It was amazing."