One of my Indian coworkers was planning a surprise party for a friend who’s graduating from college and was having trouble finding a track whose main theme was congratulations. She found a track by Juliana Theory that would have been wildly inappropriate (read: hilarious if used). This irony occurred again with The Rolling Stones, Cliff Richard, and Blue October when she finally stumbled upon one that seemed to do by some group I can’t recall. I asked her if she thought the DJs would have the track to which she replied “they’re DJs, if they don’t have it, they just sing it”.
Month: January 2008
A cookie, of the damned
I got into work about 3.5 hours late today in a last-ditch attempt to cram in enough sleep to kill my cold and was still at work around 6:00 PM when Chris Fosmire walked in with a bucket of square buttery-looking cookies. Chris grabbed a cookie and his coffee, sitting down in his Chair of Science and began coughing so I simply tried one.
I experience bad food like most people experience car accidents (and vice versa); I see that something terrible is about to happen and I try to summon my reflexes to avert disaster but usually fail. On the other hand, when I’m about to get into a car accident (or run over kittens, another story) I take my hands and feet off the wheel and pedals, respectively and brace for impact. I could hear the screams from the bundle of nerves with the painful task of transferring disgust-ions (the fundamental particle of crappy food) to my brain and back. The cookie was supposed to a cinnamon butter cookie but was something far more sinister.
- I think the cinnamon was replaced with pepper
- I think the vegetable oil was replaced with Italian dressing
- I think the flour was replaced with shredded sandpaper
Chris and I were unsure what to do with these infernal cookies until inspiration struck. We put it in the marketing department breakroom with a innocuous sign that said “Thank You!” without saying who it came from. Worse than a baby at the doorstep.
A cookie, of the damned
I got into work about 3.5 hours late today in a last-ditch attempt to cram in enough sleep to kill my cold and was still at work around 6:00 PM when Chris Fosmire walked in with a bucket of square buttery-looking cookies. Chris grabbed a cookie and his coffee, sitting down in his Chair of Science and began coughing so I simply tried one.
I experience bad food like most people experience car accidents (and vice versa); I see that something terrible is about to happen and I try to summon my reflexes to avert disaster but usually fail. On the other hand, when I’m about to get into a car accident (or run over kittens, another story) I take my hands and feet off the wheel and pedals, respectively and brace for impact. I could hear the screams from the bundle of nerves with the painful task of transferring disgust-ions (the fundamental particle of crappy food) to my brain and back. The cookie was supposed to a cinnamon butter cookie but was something far more sinister.
- I think the cinnamon was replaced with pepper
- I think the vegetable oil was replaced with Italian dressing
- I think the flour was replaced with shredded sandpaper
Chris and I were unsure what to do with these infernal cookies until inspiration struck. We put it in the marketing department breakroom with a innocuous sign that said “Thank You!” without saying who it came from. Worse than a baby at the doorstep.
This one goes out to the one I love…
There was a 3 at 3 block today of REM on WMGK, a classic rock station. We are in the end times.
This one goes out to the one I love…
There was a 3 at 3 block today of REM on WMGK, a classic rock station. We are in the end times.
If you could talk as fast as you tie…
I ran the January Roundtable and started out with a group activity where the participants had to tie a giant clove hitch around a garbage can at a distance of 10 feet. I broke everyone up into groups and they stood around the perimeter and could move. Each of the three groups had to go as quickly as possible. I started the clock and the following unfolded.
Laura Foulds: Okay, let’s start passing the rope around.
Douche bag:Â Who said you could run this thing?
Laura: Well, I was just trying to get the game going. I’m pretty sure everyone would start that way.
*Banter*
Douche bag: Do you know who I am? I won the speed tying competition this year and I tied a clove hitch in under…
Group 1: Done!
Group 3: Done!
Good job, turbo tyer.
If you could talk as fast as you tie…
I ran the January Roundtable and started out with a group activity where the participants had to tie a giant clove hitch around a garbage can at a distance of 10 feet. I broke everyone up into groups and they stood around the perimeter and could move. Each of the three groups had to go as quickly as possible. I started the clock and the following unfolded.
Laura Foulds: Okay, let’s start passing the rope around.
Douche bag:Â Who said you could run this thing?
Laura: Well, I was just trying to get the game going. I’m pretty sure everyone would start that way.
*Banter*
Douche bag: Do you know who I am? I won the speed tying competition this year and I tied a clove hitch in under…
Group 1: Done!
Group 3: Done!
Good job, turbo tyer.
Gizmodo Notes on FCC at CES
Gizmodo posted some wonderful notes taken from Kevin Martin at CES. Martin got some baleful glares for his pushing for his views on media cross-ownership. If half the stuff he mentions here is true I’ll be very happy. He’s profoundly outspoken on a la carte channel offerings for cable which would allow subscribers to buy channels rather than packages. Cable has naturally tried to drag its feet and while I don’t quite get as angry about this as DRMed music it’s up there.
I take his statements about improved fiber and broadband backbone with a grain of salt as well as his opinions about the 700MHz spectrum auction. I believe telecoms are inclined to restrict usage and charge more for access rather than build infrastructure and content providers have already encountered problems. A good bit of fiber was laid down with dot.com bubble VC money, a trick that’s unlikly to happen again. While I appreciate the open access provisions beaten into the spectrum auction there are no guarantees that this amazing frequency band will go towards rural broadband.
Gizmodo Notes on FCC at CES
Gizmodo posted some wonderful notes taken from Kevin Martin at CES. Martin got some baleful glares for his pushing for his views on media cross-ownership. If half the stuff he mentions here is true I’ll be very happy. He’s profoundly outspoken on a la carte channel offerings for cable which would allow subscribers to buy channels rather than packages. Cable has naturally tried to drag its feet and while I don’t quite get as angry about this as DRMed music it’s up there.
I take his statements about improved fiber and broadband backbone with a grain of salt as well as his opinions about the 700MHz spectrum auction. I believe telecoms are inclined to restrict usage and charge more for access rather than build infrastructure and content providers have already encountered problems. A good bit of fiber was laid down with dot.com bubble VC money, a trick that’s unlikly to happen again. While I appreciate the open access provisions beaten into the spectrum auction there are no guarantees that this amazing frequency band will go towards rural broadband.
I shittin' next to McGuyver
I’m in the Great American with Whit and have to take a dump. I enter the bathroom, see the handicapped and non-handicapped stalls were both empty, enter the non-handicap stall and upon closing the door, before dropping my drawers stare in abject horror at the sliding door latch. It’s been completely removed. Only two screws in the entire bathroom are not one-way and those get removed so someone can prevent a shitter stall from closing, crap. I look at the hole, realize a pen won’t fit into the slider gap and close on the door-side opening so, thinking I clever, take out a key and try. No luck, to wide to fit in the gap. I drop my head in shame and enter the handicapped stall praying some fellow with ALS doesn’t enter.
A few moments after my opening colonic salvo someone walks in and immediately goes in the open stall (yes!) closes the door and sighs as he looks at the door. After a brief pause, I hear the jangling of keys and the metal on metal clink of failure and smile at his creative and our mutual defeat. After a few seconds of this, silence, and then I hear him drop his pants and remove his belt. Curious…. After more silence I again hear metal on metal click as the tab of his belt buckle is adeptly slide into the slot for the door slide sealing the slider allowing the McGuyver next to me to shit triumphantly.