production date origin available degrees	(1970s) Czechoslovakia 21: 8B–B, BHB, HB, F, H–10H		A short conversation between Petr, the president of the company, and his design director, Vlad. Petr: “You know, Vlad, I really like the wreath logo thing you’ve come up with. It’s very classy. But... I think it needs something... hmmm... it’s so floral. Maybe we could add, like, an animal to it or something.” Vlad: “Oh. You mean like maybe a mighty lion! That would be cool.” Petr: “Well. Yeah. A lion could be good. But maybe if the animal were not so flashy. You know, like maybe a sheep.” Vlad: “A sheep?” Petr: “Sure! But not just a sheep. I’m thinking—and keep an open mind, this is just a trial balloon I’m tossing out here—a fucking dead sheep!” Vlad: [silence]
see also	Koh-I-Noor Toison d'Or 5900 leadholder

2008.03.26 Update: I’m leaving my ignorant farce above about the sheep because I think it’s hilarious (crickets...), but Mr. Costas Couvaris who is much less ignorant than I, has written to explain that “Toison d’Or” is the French expression for the Golden Fleece of Greek myth. And Costas should know. He’s Greek and he lives in France.

(I made up the part about Costas living in France.)

By the way, while we’re busy veering off course, Bohemia Works, as you may know, is a trademark of L&C Hardtmuth of the Czech Republic. I used the names Vlad and Petr in the fiction above because I studied architecture in Prague and my Czech professors were named Vlad and Petr! Quite clever of me, eh? Vlad was the slightly serious one. Petr was wacky in a very Czech way. Czech people have a profound disdain for pretense and authority. If you take yourself too seriously in Prague, they’ll get you so drunk you have no choice but to let loose and lighten up. It’s really pretty funny. And then after your night of drinking you’ll wake up on the cobblestones of Prague lying in a puddle of your own piss with a dog licking your face and disco music still pounding in your head. That’s just the way it is.

Well, I think it was your own piss. I guess now that I think about it, I’m not really sure who’s piss it was. I suppose it could even have been the dog’s piss. Or it could have been the piss of those guys who stole your backpack while you were dancing with their girlfriend.