I just received an email from someone who used the word "retrofits" not once, but twice. This anomaly is undermining my pursuit of achieving upper levels of employee productivity. I'm going home.
I was going to post all of them, but if you have time, read Ananova's Funny Old World page
Went to my first hocky game last night where the Lightning (of course) lost to the Panthers. The fights were great. There was one time where every player on the ice was involved in a fight, even the goalies came out and started going at it. I don't think they mean to fight. I think they do it because they appreciate their fans, and they want to give the fans what they really came to see.
finally got a chance to watch the olympics last night. it amazes me how nbc feels the need to dramatize everything. i don't think there is an athlete in the games that hasn't had cancer, didn't have enough money to buy ramen noodles, was told they weren't good enough, or lost all 4 limbs only to have them miraculously grow back. i like the quote in this article: "You see more of the tragic story of the trampolinist who was forced to grow up in an orphanage eating bark."
My family got me this print for my birthday nicely framed. It's actually a subtle hint for me to hang stuff on my bare white walls. I decided to hang it last night. There is an old picture hook on the wall right above my fireplace which seems to have been there for decades. A strong sturdy hook which must have hung many pictures throughout the years. I hung it up and stepped back to see how it looked. Trusty old picture hook my ass, it was stuck on the wall with double sided tape, NOT nailed in. This was made apparent to my by the loud thud made by the frame falling a half foot onto the mantle below, knocking over a nicely sized glass beer mug and a tea lamp. The mug and lamp hit the tile in front of the fireplace and shattered. The front of my fireplace was covered in shards of glass. Kinda like the glass Aboo Ak-Achbar walks on to impress the tourists in Bombay. I'm standing there in bare feet with my widened eyes locked onto the frame still balancing itself on the narrow ledge. All my energy was now focused on willing the picture to stay on the ledge. Then panic set in as the top began to fall forward, slowly at first, then down, down, down into a seemingly inevitable fate in the glassy remains below. I stared at the carnage that lay before my fireplace. The combination of shock and fear prevented me from breathing. Aboo was in tears. I carefully approached the scene and lifted the fame, laying face down in the glass. I turned it over and looked at my reflection in the very much intact glass protecting the print beneath. I let out a breath that raised barometer readings in the Tampa Bay area. A quick inspection of the frame itself revealed no scratches, dents, or dings. I sat on my couch in a daze that only stiff alchohol could bring me out of. "Damnit", I said to myself, "I really liked that beer mug".
Vatican unleashes new techniques to recuit new members
link "borrowed" from Tober
Becky's wedding is November 18th. Yes, it is also the same day as Florida-Florida State. You'd think that any wedding advisor worth an ounce of pigeon crap would know to steer clear of this weekend.
You wanted it. You begged for it. You wrote your congressman about it. You're getting it. I will be making a South Florida appearance this weekend!
Rented The Talented Mr. Ripley last night. I think a more appropriate title would have been The Talented Mr. FOR THE LOVE OF FUCK, DOES THIS MOVIE EVER END ?!?
When I got into my car this morning, I noticed that some colony of small insect had taken a liking to my windshield. I noticed that their crawly actions would cease as I accelerated, and would continue wandering around as I came to a stoplight. After a bit, my amusement turned to annoyance as their continuous motions distracted my driving. I knew they would be blown away as soon as I got on I-275. After all, there is no way these little bastards would be able to survive 70mph winds. Sure enough, as I sped up the on-ramp, they stomped scampering and braced themselves for the onslaught. It was hard to see them when they were still, so I lost sight of them as I was driving up the freeway. Yet, when I came to my first stop, there they were running all over the place. I couldn't believe it. Imagine the strength the little guys had to keep themselves anchored to the windshield the whole trip. I felt a sense of respect for the endurance it takes to survive such a challenge. It's a shame they couldn't withstand the windshield wipers.
Its called automation, when your mind performs repetitive task without you having to concentrate about it. As I closed my kitchen door to go on my morning run, I let my mind perform this task automatically. When I was outside, I sensed that something was amiss. While my mind had performed the repetitive task of leaving the house, it executed the leaving for work task which includes locking the door. So I'm standing on my side porch peering in through the kitchen window at my keys sitting on the table behind my locked door. Fortuneately my building is falling apart, and I easily broke in through the window. I'm not telling you how, but there is now quite a bit of duct tape holding my window together.
As you've noticed, I've placed a poll over to the right. I am using questions specifically selected to inform me more about my readers. For instance, in the office supplies poll, the top two answers were dry-erase markers and shotguns, which tells me that my readers like to get high and kill people.
Yeah, the Olympics is all about the athletes and not about money. I believe the key line is "The organizers are taking every precaution they can to ensure that their broadcast partners, which have paid $1.32 billion for exclusive TV rights, don't get scooped by the Net".
Doesn't it seem ironic that Friday is looked forward to by everyone but people death row. They certainly don't look forward to Fryday. Ouch, that one was really bad!
Since others are posting movie quotes for you to guess, here is one
"I snapped her in the ass with my towel and she let out a shriek, I figure she's all into this pain thing, so I hit her over the head with a chair"
If you know what this is from email me and I will post who guesses correctly.
NOTE: Its been a while since I've seen the movie, so the quote may not be exact, but you get the point
An interesting story from my Uncle:
When the Tyson-whoever fight was being broadcast over pay-per-view, a message appeared on the screen informing viewers in the area that if they called a given number, they would be sent a free T-shirt. So people called in and received a message asking them to leave their names and addresses. There was only one catch, the number was to their local cable company and was only seen by people with illegal descramblers.
Hello everyone, I'm here, sitting here in my office/front room thing. It's 12:38, I am just sitting here typing away waiting to see what pops into my mind. I'm actually reading a fairly interesting book (to me) about computer interfaces and human psychology (The Humane Interface). What I find interesting is what is known at automation, which is when we perform a task so many times that our subconscious is able to perform the task without help from our conscious. For example. When I drive to work every morning, my subconscious drives while my conscious thinks of other things, like porn. I couldn't tell you any detail of my trip to work, just that I got there. One year, when I was living in Gainesville, I was living west of I-75 and would take the same route to campus as I would to the boathouse. By the time I reached campus to go to class, my subconscious was driving and I would usually drive right past campus and head down University toward Newnan's Lake at 2 in the afternoon. What does that tell me, that my subconscious is as absent minded as my conscience? What is my point. My point is that I'm amazed at how much I do that I'm not even aware of. In a way that is scary, well, actually that is scary in every way. I mean what if I'm driving home one day, and my subconscious decide to rob a bank or something. Guess who gets blamed? ME! the conscience. That completely sucks ass. Why should I get blamed for what my subC does? (I no longer wish to spell out conscience). I have no control over it. The only time I get to see what my subC is up to is when I dream, and through this, I have come to realize that my subC is is having a much more interesting life than I am! No wonder why I sleep in until noon.