He was purpose-driven. Some say he was a man unique to his generation, unmatched for centuries. All agree that his was a life destined to be extraordinary...for he transcended time and space to wipe a booger under his parents' couch.
Tuesday, January 22, 2013
Thursday, January 17, 2013
Nerve damage.
In a recent Yahoo! Answers query, a user posted concerns that a cold had advanced to the stage of ear infection, a concern that was exacerbated by the user's physician explaining that the user probably had nerve damage and needed to go on medication. So naturally, the user sought a second opinion from anybody with an internet connection. Most of the answers the user received on Yahoo! recommended Sudafed (which my future brother-in-law apparently uses to make meth) or self-administered neck massage, but one respondent had a more extreme view of the situation:
Lebo Hfrnk:
Your ear will never go back to normal.
In fact, soon the pressure will build in your head and your will start hearing voices and then you will go insane and probably either commit suicide or else get run over by a Mack truck while you are wandering around on the freeway babbling like an idiot.
If you think that answer is surprising, look at the image I found of the user who submitted it:
Lebo Hfrnk:
Sorry, but yo are totally screwed,
Your ear will never go back to normal.
In fact, soon the pressure will build in your head and your will start hearing voices and then you will go insane and probably either commit suicide or else get run over by a Mack truck while you are wandering around on the freeway babbling like an idiot.
If you think that answer is surprising, look at the image I found of the user who submitted it:
"Your ear will never go back to normal."
Lebo Hfrnk, 1863 - 2012
Saturday, January 12, 2013
Dog harness.
Below are some highlights from Reuters' recent story about a Texas high school homecoming dance tradition:
Let me repeat that last part: "A front and back mum sandwiches her body and is attached to a dog harness for strength and comfort." I hope that I can raise my daughter in a way that instills her with the conviction that if it requires her to don an apparatus designed for a dog, then it is probably not worth doing in the first place. What self-respecting girl answers her door, and when the boy standing there offers her a dog harness to wear, cheerfully replies, "Wow, okay! Thank you so much!"
You know in the alien invasion movies, how there's always some ambiguity concerning why the aliens are attacking Earth, and some vague explanation involving their thirst for our planet's natural resources is jammed in there to keep the story moving? Well, what they don't tell you is that in the aliens' war council, when they were trying to decide whether or not our race was intelligent enough to merit mercy, they looked at the homecoming dance mum tradition and immediately concluded that it wasn't. "An intelligent race wouldn't do something like that," they decided, "we can proceed with clear consciences."
Finally, did you know that the girl who received the biggest homecoming mum in South Carolina state history has her very own video on YouTube? It's true! And here it is!
It's the homecoming mum, and it has come a long way since parents of today's teens were in high school.
Back then, it was a real chrysanthemum flower given by a boy to his date, similar to a corsage given for a prom.
Today, they are mammoth, over-the-top splays of silk chrysanthemums festooned with flowing ribbons, plush animals and an array of colorful trinkets that have spawned competition among girls to see whose is the biggest, and therefore, best.
Technology has made it possible for mums to be outfitted with colorful LED lights and connections for iPods or CD players, adding splash with audio and visual capabilities.
With so many features, a mum can cost up to $500.
The tradition of the mum involves an exchange between a boy and girl who go to homecoming together. The boy presents a girl with a mum that she wears attached to a cord around her neck.
The girl presents her date with a mum attached to an elastic garter that he wears on the upper part of one arm.
Sidney Heath [...] recently received the crown jewel of [...] mums. A front and back mum sandwiches her body and is attached to a dog harness for strength and comfort.
Let me repeat that last part: "A front and back mum sandwiches her body and is attached to a dog harness for strength and comfort." I hope that I can raise my daughter in a way that instills her with the conviction that if it requires her to don an apparatus designed for a dog, then it is probably not worth doing in the first place. What self-respecting girl answers her door, and when the boy standing there offers her a dog harness to wear, cheerfully replies, "Wow, okay! Thank you so much!"
You know in the alien invasion movies, how there's always some ambiguity concerning why the aliens are attacking Earth, and some vague explanation involving their thirst for our planet's natural resources is jammed in there to keep the story moving? Well, what they don't tell you is that in the aliens' war council, when they were trying to decide whether or not our race was intelligent enough to merit mercy, they looked at the homecoming dance mum tradition and immediately concluded that it wasn't. "An intelligent race wouldn't do something like that," they decided, "we can proceed with clear consciences."
Finally, did you know that the girl who received the biggest homecoming mum in South Carolina state history has her very own video on YouTube? It's true! And here it is!
Saturday, December 29, 2012
Missing out.
Dan: "We've been over this, Phyllis. I don't want to go through a whole song and dance with you."
Phyllis: "Wait, I've been missing out on songs and dances?!"
Phyllis: "Wait, I've been missing out on songs and dances?!"
Insects.
You know that thing people always say about how many spiders we eat in our sleep every year? I'm okay with that.
I know that insects are going to be crawling on me while I'm asleep, walking around and exploring. That's fine with me. I figure it's inevitable so I might as well welcome it, and them, to my bed. Hope you enjoy it as much as I do, guys!
The one thing that I ask is that everyone be cool, and don't do anything gross. Don't bite me excessively or lay eggs on me or anything. Let's all just do our best to maintain a comfortable relationship.
Monday, December 24, 2012
Mika.
Mika liked to sit on Grandpa's lap when he was visiting. I think it was his ability to hold perfectly still that appealed to her. She would try to sit on other people's laps as well, but those people would either be too fidgety for her to ever get settled, or (and this was worse for everyone involved) they would hold still long enough for Mika to get comfortable, and then they would move, causing her to start awake suddenly in a fit of growling and biting. She would heave herself up, grumbling, and go look for a vacant pillow or Grandpa.
Unfortunately, Grandpa was never around at bedtime. Mika liked to sleep with me and Pat, on one of our beds, probably because we three all smelled about the same. But she would beat us to bed, and had a keen sense of positioning on the mattress. Whichever brother was lucky enough to have been chosen as Mika's sleeping companion for the night would arrive at his bedside to find her sound asleep in the direct center of his blanket. This made it impossible to pull back the covers without rousing her and creating an ugly situation.
We eventually got wise enough to never make our beds, so that Mika couldn't pin our covers down (yes, Mom, that is why we didn't make our beds). But her instinctive drive to sleep right in the middle of the bed remained unaffected by our clever planning. So then it was simply a matter of easing ourselves into bed around Mika without disturbing her. There were two basic methods for completing this delicate operation. One was to pick a side of the dog, and then resign yourself to an uncomfortable night of trying to sleep on half of a twin mattress.
The other method, for the bolder young man, was to carefully slide yourself down with one leg on either side of the dog, straddling her, until you were settled. It should be obvious why this maneuver required a bold operator, but I will expound for the sake of thoroughness. To be far enough under the covers to lay down on the bed, you had to slide down until Mika's slumbering form was nestled right against your crotch. This meant that your movements had to be delicate to the point of steely-eyed precision. If you could move nimbly enough, you could set yourself up for a night of relative comfort, since you could at least occupy the full width of your mattress. You could not, however, move at all without disturbing Mika. If you attempted the approach too quickly or haphazardly, you sealed your fate. Mika would spring up maliciously, legs flailing, and claw and bite confusedly in the dark under the blanket, until one of the bed's two occupants was ejected onto the floor. Then whoever had been thrown from the bed faced the choice of either trying to climb back in next to someone with whom there were now a lot of angry feelings, or slinking off into the dark house to sleep somewhere else.
Moving her while she was sleeping was one of a few things for which Mika had little tolerance. Another of those things was toddlers. She had a child alarm zone that extended in a five-foot radius from her, and when it was breached, she would start to whine. Not the high, pitiful whine that you hear from most dogs - this was lower-pitched, a moaning, groaning, very nervous sound deep in her throat. It gave the impression that she knew she would be forced to bite if the child got too close to her, and that she had no control over the reaction. And she was apparently very worried about the inevitability of all of this. Smart kids would therefore take the strange, ominous noise eminating from the tiny dog as a portent of attack, and rightly back away. But most kids got their fingers nipped.
Unfortunately, Grandpa was never around at bedtime. Mika liked to sleep with me and Pat, on one of our beds, probably because we three all smelled about the same. But she would beat us to bed, and had a keen sense of positioning on the mattress. Whichever brother was lucky enough to have been chosen as Mika's sleeping companion for the night would arrive at his bedside to find her sound asleep in the direct center of his blanket. This made it impossible to pull back the covers without rousing her and creating an ugly situation.
We eventually got wise enough to never make our beds, so that Mika couldn't pin our covers down (yes, Mom, that is why we didn't make our beds). But her instinctive drive to sleep right in the middle of the bed remained unaffected by our clever planning. So then it was simply a matter of easing ourselves into bed around Mika without disturbing her. There were two basic methods for completing this delicate operation. One was to pick a side of the dog, and then resign yourself to an uncomfortable night of trying to sleep on half of a twin mattress.
The other method, for the bolder young man, was to carefully slide yourself down with one leg on either side of the dog, straddling her, until you were settled. It should be obvious why this maneuver required a bold operator, but I will expound for the sake of thoroughness. To be far enough under the covers to lay down on the bed, you had to slide down until Mika's slumbering form was nestled right against your crotch. This meant that your movements had to be delicate to the point of steely-eyed precision. If you could move nimbly enough, you could set yourself up for a night of relative comfort, since you could at least occupy the full width of your mattress. You could not, however, move at all without disturbing Mika. If you attempted the approach too quickly or haphazardly, you sealed your fate. Mika would spring up maliciously, legs flailing, and claw and bite confusedly in the dark under the blanket, until one of the bed's two occupants was ejected onto the floor. Then whoever had been thrown from the bed faced the choice of either trying to climb back in next to someone with whom there were now a lot of angry feelings, or slinking off into the dark house to sleep somewhere else.
Moving her while she was sleeping was one of a few things for which Mika had little tolerance. Another of those things was toddlers. She had a child alarm zone that extended in a five-foot radius from her, and when it was breached, she would start to whine. Not the high, pitiful whine that you hear from most dogs - this was lower-pitched, a moaning, groaning, very nervous sound deep in her throat. It gave the impression that she knew she would be forced to bite if the child got too close to her, and that she had no control over the reaction. And she was apparently very worried about the inevitability of all of this. Smart kids would therefore take the strange, ominous noise eminating from the tiny dog as a portent of attack, and rightly back away. But most kids got their fingers nipped.
Thursday, December 20, 2012
A tough customer.
You know how a person can be labeled as "a tough customer"? I think I figured out where that comes from, just now. Here's part of the transcript from my online chat with a Comcast customer service representative today. No names have been changed, because no one was innocent:
There should be a saying where you call a really patient person "a good customer service rep". That doesn't quite roll off the tongue like "a tough customer" does, but it's at least something to give recognition to a valuable trait.
I'm going to call Comcast now. But I think I should prepare myself for the inevitability of paying them those $50. That's okay. What else is Christmas about, if not paying Comcast an extra $50?
UPDATE:
I got $25 out of them. Turns out it is an "applicable fee" (I liked that wording), but I was supposed to have been advised about it before it was charged, and I wasn't. So chalk one up for the little guy.
Guest: Very good. My final question is about a charge on my bill. $50 for "Failed CHSI Sik". What is that?
Emmanuel: I see, that means that it was supposed to be self installation (where you plug your equipment yourself) and what happens is that that didn't work out, and the tech would need to go to your house to install it instead, is it clear?
Guest: But I did exactly what Comcast told me to do over the phone, and it didn't work. It ended up being an equipment problem. Why should I pay for a problem with Comcast's equipment?
Emmanuel: I definitely understand, Dan. I apologize for any inconvenience, however, for that, you can call our hotline at 1-800-934-6489, to inquire about that, would that be fine?
Guest: What will they tell me?
Emmanuel: The reason why we have to send a technician, and what we can do about it, Dan.
Guest: I know why a technician was sent. My concern is that Comcast thinks I should have to pay for it. I pay a monthly bill, which secures my access to internet. The technician was sent to fix a problem with Comcast's equipment that was inhibiting my ability to access the internet. The technician fixed a problem that was caused by Comcast's equipment, not by me. If I had caused the problem, I'd be happy to pay for it.
Emmanuel: I definitely understand, Dan. I apologize, but that would be the policy for our failed installation and the previous rep should have told you that. I deeply apologize for that.
Guest: So the policy for YOUR failed installation is to have ME pay for it?
Emmanuel: For that concern, may I please refer you to our Hotline at 1-800-934-6489.
Guest: So if I crash my car, can I send the bill to Comcast?
Emmanuel: No, that would be inappropriate.
Guest: Yes, you are right. But how is that any more inappropriate than me paying for Comcast's failed installation of equipment?
Emmanuel: I understand, I highly suggest that you call us so that we can handle your concern, as I specialize in Transfer of service and Upgrades only, Dan.
Guest: Okay. Thanks for your help. Happy holidays!
Emmanuel: You too! I definitely understand you point there, Dan. As much as I want to waive that fee, I am limited to my restrictions.
Emmanuel: Thank you so much for your time.
Emmanuel: May I know if there is anything else that I can assist you with?
Guest: I understand. No, I think I'm good for now. Take care.
There should be a saying where you call a really patient person "a good customer service rep". That doesn't quite roll off the tongue like "a tough customer" does, but it's at least something to give recognition to a valuable trait.
I'm going to call Comcast now. But I think I should prepare myself for the inevitability of paying them those $50. That's okay. What else is Christmas about, if not paying Comcast an extra $50?
UPDATE:
I got $25 out of them. Turns out it is an "applicable fee" (I liked that wording), but I was supposed to have been advised about it before it was charged, and I wasn't. So chalk one up for the little guy.
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