Solar Death Ray

Here's a fun weekend project:

http://www.solardeathray.com/index.html

Enjoy the warning from the website:

The sun is bright. Don’t look at the sun or you will damage your eyes. Anything that focuses the sun will only make it more dangerous. The Solar Death Ray is dangerous. Don’t build one. I’m surprised I haven’t burnt or blinded myself yet. The fumes from molten plastic can’t be good either. Don't play with fire.

Exploding Toads

Apparently, toads are exploding randomly in Germany (thanks to JD on finding this):
http://news.yahoo.com/news?tmpl=story&u=/ap/20050427/ap_on_sc/germany_exploding_toads

Want to hear my theories on why this is happening?

- The turtles have discovered a secret stash of Nazi nerve gas and using it on the toads
- White Castle has been dumping leftovers in the pond
- Telekinetic warfare being waged by very confused extra-terrestrials
- Egyptian Curse

Any theories you'd like to share? Feel free to comment...

Food Phobia

If you are interested in food at all, here is a great article. My wife needs to do this:

http://slate.msn.com/id/3152/

The Internet Rules

Need proof??

http://www.popetoast.com/

Thanks to Vlad for finally sending me an interesting link.

Painful

If you've seen something more disturbing than this, I don't want to know about it:

http://www.snopes.com/photos/bodymods/corset.asp

There is, of course, this, which is probably actually much, much worse:

http://www.snopes.com/photos/medical/maged.asp

Fat and Married

I went to the Verizon store the other night to renew my cellular telephone contract and get an upgraded phone. That all worked out fine. However, I did see something kind of funny while I waiting for them to fulfill my order.

As it turns out, the good people at Verizon have figured out that attractive young hostesses help bring in the business, so they've hired just such a person for their store near Bryant Park. When you come into the store, she stands by the door, smiles, greets you, inquires into what you are looking for, and then directs you to the proper part of the store. And, yes, she is very attractive in a wholesome kind of way.

Anyway, as I was standing there waiting on my renewal rep, a large, jolly gentleman walked into the store. He closely resembled the actor Jeff Garlin, but was a bit heavier. He proudly and loudly announced to the entire store, "You've got a sale here… Who wants to make a sale??" He looked around expecting salespeople to come running up to him, but was instead met by the hostess.

She greeting him warmly asking, "What is it you are looking for, sir?" He didn't really get it, and returned her simple question with, "Are you a salesman [sic], because I'm an easy sale today, honey!?!" She took it in great stride - "I'll not a sales person. I'll get a sales person for you in a moment. What is it exactly you are looking for?" He said something about needing a cell phone, having a bad experience with T-Mobile, blah, blah, blah.

Here's the fun part. She then asked him, "What is your name, sir?" His jovial response - "My name is… Boy you are cute!" The accompanying look he gave could not have made her feel very comfortable, but you couldn't tell by her forced corporate hostess smile. As she lead him over to whatever he was looking for, he continued, "You don't have to worry about me, honey, I'm fat and married. It's OK." He then made eye contact with me and the other patrons looking for a glimmer of support. I gave him a polite smile and half-nod.

I was very relieved to hear that I now had to go to another part of the store to pick up my new phone. I was tired of staring at this car accident.

Very Cool

Am I the only one who finds this totally cool?

http://www.wired.com/news/privacy/0,1848,67223,00.html

The vision of camouflage-clad American Cyber-Warriors cracking away on a keyboard in some dark room might be the coolest (read "nerdiest") thing ever.

-Andrew

Rules of Vending Machine Club

#1 - The first rule of Vending Machine Club is, you do not talk about Vending Machine Club.

#2 - The second rule of Vending Machine Club is, YOU DO NOT TALK ABOUT VENDING MACHINE CLUB.

#3 - If food comes out of the machine, the game is over.

#4 - $0.75 to a press.

#5 - One person presses buttons at a time.

#6 - No gloves, no peeking.

#7 - You will press buttons randomly as long as you need to.

#8 - If this is your first time to Vending Machine Club, you will press buttons.

[If this seems bizarre, it's kind of an inside thing so don't feel too bad.]

Pigs are Funny

Not as funny as monkey, of course, but funny nonetheless.

http://news.yahoo.com/news?tmpl=story&u=/ap/20050412/ap_on_fe_st/china_pig_olympics

Thanks to JD.

Strangely Fascinating

Secrets and confessions written on post cards. Very interesting.

(You might be offended. You've been warned.)

http://postsecret.blogspot.com/

Cat Hunter

Apparently feral cats might soon become hunted creatures in Wisconsin. I don't know enough to have an opinion on the issue, but it sure makes for very entertaining reading.

Of course the best solution to this problem of feral cats killing songbirds is to sell them as part of Bonsai Kitten kits.

Mr T Loves His Mommy

Please, treat yourself to this today:

http://www.ifilm.com/WMPPlaylist.asx?ifilmId=2667017&bandwidth=300

Props to Chandler for finding this fantastic bit of video.

So Tired

I love my baby daughter with all my heart. She is a joy and a blessing to me. That said, I can't believe how utterly exhausted I am all the time since she has been born. Even with my wife handling the middle-of-the-night feedings, I feel like I never get enough sleep.

Sleep is one of those funny things. You can make up for a deficit with one good night's rest (if you get the chance), but you can't store it up in advance. And a deficit certainly seems to be cumulative.

Have you ever had a night were you only got 4 hours of sleep? You feel a little zonked the next day, but if you get a good night's sleep that night you are OK. What if you get only 4-5 hours of sleep every night for many weeks in a row? I can assure you, the results are cumulative and not pretty.

I love my little girl as is, but I am looking forward to the night that she starts sleeping for long stretches...

Reply All

Just a bit of netiquette here.... Please, people, PLEASE use discretion when hitting the "reply all" button in your email client.

Here are list of times when you should hit reply all:

• Everyone on the list needs to be aware of your reply

Here are a list of times when you should NOT hit reply all:

• When saying "thanks!," "you're welcome," or "got it"
• All other times

Should be simple, right?

Better Looking Than Fabio

I saw Fabio outside my building today at lunchtime. Not some guy that looks like Fabio, but the real deal.

I informally polled several women in the office (after receiving the surprising reaction that many women find Fabio unattractive). It turns out that 80% of women polled believe that I am more attractive than Fabio.

So take that, you euro-trash, conditioner-loving, male model!

http://www.coasterforce.com/randompics/unknown/fabio.jpg

Luxury Service

So it was a little warm in the office today, even by my standards. That was nothing, however, compared to how hot it was on my bus ride home.

After paying my $5 for the privilege of riding the MTA's luxurious Staten Island Express Bus, I immediately noticed that it was hot on the bus. Not warm - hot. Like no-exaggeration 100-degrees hot (I wouldn't be surprised if it was even hotter than that). Apparently the heat was on full blast and could not be turned off.

Given the fact that it was probably 65 degrees outside and everyone was wearing a light jacket, this made for a VERY unpleasant ride home. I quickly stripped down to my t-shirt, but it still felt like I was roasting.

To compound matters, someone sitting 2 rows back and on the other side of the bus had the volume on their portable music player set a tad bit high- like so high I could hear every nuance of her obnoxious music as clear as if I were wearing the headphones.

In front of me sat an Eastern European man (I could tell by his newspaper). He already reeked of BO before he even got on the hot bus. I was nearly gagging on his odor.

Since it was a packed X1 bus, there was a woman standing over my seat. Her large leather pocketbook dangled from her forearm in my face as she prattled on about some nonsense on her cell phone.

Luxury service indeed.

Very Strange News Indeed

Read this strange article. Maad props to my boy JD for bringing it to my attention.

I can't believe there IS a Ms Wheelchair Wisconsin, let alone that there could be controversy around it. She is being fired because she can walk a little bit, sometimes. I am puzzled on many levels.

Mr Grumpy Gets to Work

What a horrid commute this morning. I am really getting sick of it.

I waited on this brisk morning, as I always do, for either the X1 or the X9 MTA Express Buses. Either one would have been fine. I'd have preferred to sit, but I'd have taken standing room only.

Instead of seeing any of these buses (the only 2 West Midtown buses that run by my house), I saw no less than 8 East Midtown buses and probably around 15 downtown buses (not to mention about 4 Brooklyn-bound buses).

Now, to be fair, 2 buses did go by that didn't indicate what route they were running. They displayed the "Next Bus Please" message, and it was quite apparent that they didn't even have standing room left on them. I probably would have tried to squeeze on, but they didn't even stop.

After waiting about 30 minutes, an X1 finally arrived. Can someone at the MTA please take note of this situation and rectify it? And while we're at it, the MTA recently raised the Express Bus fare from $4 to $5 (each way) because - get this - it is a "luxury service." Pay per ride subway and local bus fares, of course, were not increased. Once again, Staten Island gets boned for the good of this craphole of a city. My blood absolutely boils to think of it.

Nevermind the fact that a new study show that Staten Island leads the nation in people who commute 90 minutes or more. This should be an embarrassment to the MTA, but still no one seems to care or do anything about it.

I had been commuting for 90 minutes. I needed to make it in by 9 AM for a conference call with a customer. After getting off the bus, it was like people were intentionally blocking my way to the office. By the time I got to the building I was literally yelling at strangers for blocking my path, walking into me, walking too slowly, etc.

Once in the building, the elevator closed on my face (my thanks to ladies who let it close without even pretending to hit the open door button). The next elevator was held up by 2 people running for it (both of whom were getting off on floor lower than mine, increasing my delay). I finally rush in, dial my conference bridge.... and the customer never showed up. Fantastic.

My coworker said I was "Mr. Grumpy" today. She was right on the money.

Confessions of a White Castle Abuser

As I sit here and write this, I am enjoying a certain post-lunch glow. This particular euphoric state can only be the result of eating White Castles (or, for those in other parts of the country who have never heard of White Castle, "White Castle Hamburgers," "Sliders," or "Belly
Bombers").

Let me start by describing the experience of obtaining said White Castles. As anyone who's eaten there knows, getting the burgers is half the fun. No matter how nice the neighborhood in which the "restaurant" is located, White Castle brings a little bit of the ghetto with it. This isn't meant to be a racial thing, but rather speaks of the general class of patrons regardless of race, color, or creed. The fact that many are open 24/7 and tend to attract a less-than-sober late-night crowd doesn't really help their image.

In the White Castle on 8th Ave and 36th St, there was a lunch rush around 12:15 PM today. What made the situation particularly difficult was the fact that there was no real line to purchase anything. There was, however, a mob of people standing around in front of the counter. Some of them were waiting for food they had ordered, while others where waiting to order. There was no separation of the 2 groups. The situation behind the counter didn't look much better. As might be expected, general bedlam ensued.

I saw one man standing at the back of the mob getting frustrated at having to wait to order (despite the fact that everyone in front of him had already ordered). He walked out sans burgers. I burrowed my way to front of the mob and ordered my 10 burgers (5 with cheese).

A few minutes later my coworkers caught up to me while I was among the waiting folk in the mob. I instructed them to move up, as most people had already ordered. As I did so, a strange man started talking to me about the insanity there and lack of organization. He and I ultimately decided that the best solution was to have a separate ordering line and waiting area. I recall that velvet rope was bandied about as an easy way to accomplish this configuration.

After getting all of our food and returning to the office, I enjoyed my burgers immensely. They have a unique oniony flavor and, I believe, a liquid crack additive for extra addictiveness. One of my coworkers ate his 10 burgers in about 20 seconds flat. I completed my portion in a more reasonable manner.

And, of course, the real fun of White Castle doesn't really hit you until minutes or hours after your meal. Without getting too graphic, White Castles are a more effective laxative than Exlax. I have yet to be hit with my post-lunch purge (were I to be hit, I would complete the hat trick for today). A word to the wise: Don't mix White Castle and road trips. 'Nuf said.