]]>
]]>The array of foods she's making includes a few dozen sugar cookies (from scratch, of course), which she's cut out into various shapes: hearts, flowers, stars, and of course crosses. Because these people are protestants (as was I, when I considered myself a person of faith), and for us protestants kitsch is as important a part of the daily diet as vitamins and minerals. A fifth food group, you might say. So she finishes the cookies and decided to turn in for the night. Realizes that they'll dry out in the "crisp" Colorado fall air (it's hella dry here once the temperatures start coming down). Dilemma: how to keep them from drying out without coming back downstairs? Solution: ask the housemate ("ME") to wrap things up:
HM: Can you wrap up the cookies in about 15 minutes, so they don't dry out? Just put them in zip-loc bags, that will work.
ME: Ummm, sure. Should I throw them in the fridge or leave them on the counter?
HM: Counter-top is fine. Or, you can just put them back on the cookie sheets and cover them with plastic-wrap.
ME: No, I'll put them in bags.
HM: OK, but be careful. Don't break them.
ME: Can I break the arms off of an inverted cross, in rejection of-
HM: NO!
ME: sighs
So touchy...
]]>The array of foods she's making includes a few dozen sugar cookies (from scratch, of course), which she's cut out into various shapes: hearts, flowers, stars, and of course crosses. Because these people are protestants (as was I, when I considered myself a person of faith), and for us protestants kitsch is as important a part of the daily diet as vitamins and minerals. A fifth food group, you might say. So she finishes the cookies and decided to turn in for the night. Realizes that they'll dry out in the "crisp" Colorado fall air (it's hella dry here once the temperatures start coming down). Dilemma: how to keep them from drying out without coming back downstairs? Solution: ask the housemate ("ME") to wrap things up:
HM: Can you wrap up the cookies in about 15 minutes, so they don't dry out? Just put them in zip-loc bags, that will work.
ME: Ummm, sure. Should I throw them in the fridge or leave them on the counter?
HM: Counter-top is fine. Or, you can just put them back on the cookie sheets and cover them with plastic-wrap.
ME: No, I'll put them in bags.
HM: OK, but be careful. Don't break them.
ME: Can I break the arms off of an inverted cross, in rejection of-
HM: NO!
ME: sighs
So touchy...
]]>
]]>
]]>| Your Birthdate: March 3 |
|
Being born on the 3rd day of the month is likely to add a good bit of vitality to your life.
The energy of 3 allows you bounce back rapidly from setbacks, physical or mental. There is a restlessness in your nature, but you seem to be able to portray an easygoing, "couldn't care less" attitude. You have a natural ability to express yourself in public, and you always make a very good impression. Good with words, you excel in writing, speaking, and possibly singing. You are energetic and always a good conversationalist. You have a keen imagination, but you tend to scatter your energies and become involved with too may superficial matters. You are affectionate and loving, but sometimes too sensitive. You are subject to rapid ups and downs. |
As it happens, there are more than a couple of those statements I can't really argue with...
]]>| Your Birthdate: March 3 |
|
Being born on the 3rd day of the month is likely to add a good bit of vitality to your life.
The energy of 3 allows you bounce back rapidly from setbacks, physical or mental. There is a restlessness in your nature, but you seem to be able to portray an easygoing, "couldn't care less" attitude. You have a natural ability to express yourself in public, and you always make a very good impression. Good with words, you excel in writing, speaking, and possibly singing. You are energetic and always a good conversationalist. You have a keen imagination, but you tend to scatter your energies and become involved with too may superficial matters. You are affectionate and loving, but sometimes too sensitive. You are subject to rapid ups and downs. |
As it happens, there are more than a couple of those statements I can't really argue with...
]]>Still, I'm more than a little concerned that the XHTML Fist t-shirt features a hand with six fingers. And the left hand, no less. You can't even try to explain it away as being Count Rugen's.
]]>Still, I'm more than a little concerned that the XHTML Fist t-shirt features a hand with six fingers. And the left hand, no less. You can't even try to explain it away as being Count Rugen's.
]]>It appears that Amazon encodes significant data into their image URLs. It also appears that this person has way too much time on his hands.
]]>It appears that Amazon encodes significant data into their image URLs. It also appears that this person has way too much time on his hands.
]]>ROSES ARE #FF0000 VIOLETS ARE #0000FF ALL MY BASE ARE BELONG TO YOU
I won't reprint the text that is on the panties here. I won't.
]]>ROSES ARE #FF0000 VIOLETS ARE #0000FF ALL MY BASE ARE BELONG TO YOU
I won't reprint the text that is on the panties here. I won't.
]]>Today is the Hallowe'en celebration in my office. Many people are dressed up, and there is enough candy floating around to induce diabetic coma into a small but significant percentage of mainland China's populace. Even my manager, who is old-skool-enough to have been coding on Lisp machines before I was born, is dressed for the occassion. I chose not to, as I don't really have much skill or knack for costumes that don't involve large quantities of fake (no, really, I promise it's fake) blood. And I do have to work here after Hallowe'en, after all.
The problem is, there was a calculated, concerted effort among a large number of the female office demographic to dress as devil-girls. That's right, I'm surrounded by literally dozens of women in red, wearing horns, some with pitchforks, even.
My concentration is pretty much crap.
Yours,
rjray
Today is the Hallowe'en celebration in my office. Many people are dressed up, and there is enough candy floating around to induce diabetic coma into a small but significant percentage of mainland China's populace. Even my manager, who is old-skool-enough to have been coding on Lisp machines before I was born, is dressed for the occassion. I chose not to, as I don't really have much skill or knack for costumes that don't involve large quantities of fake (no, really, I promise it's fake) blood. And I do have to work here after Hallowe'en, after all.
The problem is, there was a calculated, concerted effort among a large number of the female office demographic to dress as devil-girls. That's right, I'm surrounded by literally dozens of women in red, wearing horns, some with pitchforks, even.
My concentration is pretty much crap.
Yours,
rjray
(I, unfortunately, missed it all because a power-outage this morning killed my alarm clocks and made me later than usual.)
]]>(I, unfortunately, missed it all because a power-outage this morning killed my alarm clocks and made me later than usual.)
]]>Understand, first off, that this isn't a very big container. It's a perfect cylinder of heavy glass, with no top. Like an extremely unimaginative drinking glass (if you were, say, André the Giant). Probably holds about a pint and a half or so (judging by my first-hand experience with pints). It's about 3/4 full with water, so we'll call the actual water-area one pint. In this, though, there is about an inch or so of bright blue gravel at the bottom, and a plastic plant of some sort that curves in on itself within the confines of the glass. And the fish. The three fish.
Fish are not pets. You can't take them for a walk, they don't come when you call (of course, neither do my cats, but in their case it's clear from the look in their eyes that I'm being purposefully ignored). You can't play with fish the way you would a reptile, unless the fish are piranha and your idea of a pet reptile is a Komodo Dragon. But this subtle distinction is lost on my co-worker.
She's like a child with its first kitten. She can't leave the poor fish alone. How they must gurgle a watery sigh of relief when she leaves for the day. She'll tap on the glass. She'll spin the jar around one way, then the other (something I compared to her riding out a 5.0 earthquake in her apartment). And once in a while, she'll just pull the jar closer to her and, well, almost hug it, for lack of a better descriptive. I don't think she's really hugging it in the sense you'd hug a puppy, but she's clearly taking some degree of comfort from the presence of the little fishies.
God help all of us within earshot if she comes in one morning to find any one of them floating. I'm just not sure how you explain the cycle of life to a 30-year-old married woman.
]]>Understand, first off, that this isn't a very big container. It's a perfect cylinder of heavy glass, with no top. Like an extremely unimaginative drinking glass (if you were, say, André the Giant). Probably holds about a pint and a half or so (judging by my first-hand experience with pints). It's about 3/4 full with water, so we'll call the actual water-area one pint. In this, though, there is about an inch or so of bright blue gravel at the bottom, and a plastic plant of some sort that curves in on itself within the confines of the glass. And the fish. The three fish.
Fish are not pets. You can't take them for a walk, they don't come when you call (of course, neither do my cats, but in their case it's clear from the look in their eyes that I'm being purposefully ignored). You can't play with fish the way you would a reptile, unless the fish are piranha and your idea of a pet reptile is a Komodo Dragon. But this subtle distinction is lost on my co-worker.
She's like a child with its first kitten. She can't leave the poor fish alone. How they must gurgle a watery sigh of relief when she leaves for the day. She'll tap on the glass. She'll spin the jar around one way, then the other (something I compared to her riding out a 5.0 earthquake in her apartment). And once in a while, she'll just pull the jar closer to her and, well, almost hug it, for lack of a better descriptive. I don't think she's really hugging it in the sense you'd hug a puppy, but she's clearly taking some degree of comfort from the presence of the little fishies.
God help all of us within earshot if she comes in one morning to find any one of them floating. I'm just not sure how you explain the cycle of life to a 30-year-old married woman.
]]>![[image]](http://www.rjray.org/blosxom/funny/feedbag.jpg "Feed Bag")
In Arizona, horses are still very common-place. Because of this, you might
think that this is a sign directing you to a place where you can get your
horse a nice meal. You might think that, but you would be wrong. This is a
place where you go to eat like a horse. This is a chain in the
Phoenix/Mesa metro area. I've seen at least three locations so far this
week.
As to whether you actually strap a bag onto your face, I cannot say. I haven't had the courage to actually venture into any of them.
]]>
In Arizona, horses are still very common-place. Because of this, you might
think that this is a sign directing you to a place where you can get your
horse a nice meal. You might think that, but you would be wrong. This is a
place where you go to eat like a horse. This is a chain in the
Phoenix/Mesa metro area. I've seen at least three locations so far this
week.
As to whether you actually strap a bag onto your face, I cannot say. I haven't had the courage to actually venture into any of them.
]]>You are a WECF–Wacky Emotional Constructive Follower. This makes you a candle burning at both ends. You work until you drop, and you play until you can stand to work again. You have so much enthusiasm that you can find it hard to control on your own, and you appreciate the guidance that channels your energy and lets you be your best.
In a relationship, you require lots of attention and support. You often over-contribute and end up feeling depleted and cheated. You may benefit from more time alone than you grant yourself.
Your driving force is the emotional support of others–especially affection. You can run on empty for miles if you have positive energy behind you. Without it–as it occasionally must run dry–you are depressive, listless, and difficult to motivate.
You need a lot of affection. Get it any way you can, but never at the cost of your self-respect or well-being.
There. Wonder no more about the mysteries of my psyche.
]]>You are a WECF–Wacky Emotional Constructive Follower. This makes you a candle burning at both ends. You work until you drop, and you play until you can stand to work again. You have so much enthusiasm that you can find it hard to control on your own, and you appreciate the guidance that channels your energy and lets you be your best.
In a relationship, you require lots of attention and support. You often over-contribute and end up feeling depleted and cheated. You may benefit from more time alone than you grant yourself.
Your driving force is the emotional support of others–especially affection. You can run on empty for miles if you have positive energy behind you. Without it–as it occasionally must run dry–you are depressive, listless, and difficult to motivate.
You need a lot of affection. Get it any way you can, but never at the cost of your self-respect or well-being.
There. Wonder no more about the mysteries of my psyche.
]]>I just wish he wouldn't make those slurping noises when he reaches his ass.
]]>I just wish he wouldn't make those slurping noises when he reaches his ass.
]]>This post made on 3/14, 1:59
]]>This post made on 3/14, 1:59
]]>