To Bee or Not to Bee

My headspace is cluttered with so much crap.

Sometimes I wonder how I even manage to
function on a daily basis.
I think most of what I do is programmed into 'auto-pilot
'...at least, that's what I'm hoping. Because when I
occasionally have the time to take mental inventory, I am
shocked and appalled by the amount of useless
garbage I find rattling around up there.

BUT - every once in a while, one of those useless
things comes in handy. Kind of like that piece of
copper wire in the bottom of your junk drawer.

The other day at work I was having a conversation
with someone I'm not overly fond of, but for civility's
sake, I remain on amicable speaking terms.

Sadly, I don't remember what we were discussing - only
that I had said that something was impossible. This guy
then starts chirping at me, saying 'Nothing is impossible. If a bumblebee can fly, which is an aerodynamic impossibility, then anything can happen."

Gee...thanks, Hallmark.

Suddenly, facts from days gone by started flooding from all
corners of my brain!

"Actually," I said, "that is a common myth propagated from the
faulty analogy between bees and conventional fixed-wing aircraft.
It became a catch-phrase of every wannabe self-help guru and
pocket-lining pulpit banger who had the audacity to use it without
researching the facts!

Bees' wings are small relative to their bodies. If an airplane were
built the same way, it'd never get off the ground. But bees aren't
like airplanes, they're like helicopters. Their wings work on the
same principle as helicopter blades--to be precise, "reverse-pitch
semi-rotary helicopter blades. A moving airfoil, whether it's a
helicopter blade or a bee wing, generates a lot more lift than a
stationary one."

I found myself staring at a very confused and slightly frightened
co-worker.

I apologized and walked away before I could get into how the bees'
thorax muscles worked in order to make 200 wing beats per second
possible.

Why do I have this stuff in my head????

Time for some cerebral spring cleaning - hopefully before someone
gets hurt.

Working Out

~sigh~

So, The Man is out of work...

It would be nice to say that he's taking the summer off
to enjoy the weather and take a little vacation - but the
fact of the matter is that he's lost his job.

My plans of a new computer system, a vacation of my own
and a little financial breathing space all came crashing down
around my feet last Thursday when he got his notice.

Fun, fun, fun...

Just when you think you're finally back on track, someone
changes the route.

Maybe it's time for a change in venue. There's really not much
around here in the way of gainful employment anymore. He's
too old to join the military (not to mention far too insubordinate)...
he can't speak French, so any government jobs are out - and he
would probably stab someone in the face if he worked in the
food service industry.

I'll be looking into putting my house on the market in the next
month or so, I guess.

Anyone want to buy a 112 year old house???

An Occasional Error

Ever been talking to someone and in the course of the conversation
they use a word or phrase incorrectly?

Usually you let it go, not wanting to draw attention to their
mistake or embarrass them.

I was recently relating a story like this to a friend and co-worker, so
I thought perhaps I would share it here as well.

Years ago, a friend of mine had a big Christmas party and invited
most of the people she knew, both from work and from school. It
was quite the shindig, let me tell you.

Anyway, at this party was another friend of mine, Janice*. Now
Janice had a terrible crush on a certain guy and had never known
how to approach him.

This particular guy, whose name was David, happened to be of the
Jewish persuasion - but had attended the party all the same.
None of us cared about his religion anymore than he cared about ours
- so it was all good. Besides, why miss a good party over something
so trivial?

Under the influence of a little too much Christmas cheer from the
punch bowl, Janice approached me to ask what it was that the Jewish
people celebrated this time of year.

"Hanukkah" I replied. "The phrase is Happy Hanukkah."

She thanked me and stumbled off in search of David.

I happened to be standing within earshot when she found him.

Janice threw her arms around him and in her tipsy and tremulous
voice wished David a "Happy Holocaust!!"

I nearly died.

To this day, every time I think of that night I do two things:

1) cringe and 2) laugh hysterically.

Needless to say, Janice never did get anywhere with David - although
he did forgive her...eventually.


*names have been changed to protect the inebriated.

Kann dieses nicht berühren!!

Some things just strike me as incredibly funny.

This, for example:



Why is it funny?

I don't know.

It just is.

Accept it.
Laugh.
Move on.

Hoops!!!

Gah!

What is in these things??

Note that I have included in the picture the list of ingredients.

No comment on the 'nutritional value' - I'm sure that they're

absolutely bursting with vitamins and minerals.

If anyone can tell me what is in these that makes them so damned

addictive I'd be most appreciative.

Honestly, I swear these things are coated in flavored cocaine or something.

Where I work, we have one of those annoying snack machines
in the cafeteria. Normally, I can ignore that machine - but not
when there's HOOPS in it.

I can hear them calling to me...luring me with their evil, barbecue flavor.

I actually broke a ten dollar bill so that I could feed coins into that
infernal machine for more of these things.

Is there therapy for Hoop addiction?

I sure hope so.

I Toad You So

Gangs, gaggles and groups...

If there is more than one of the same thing in the same place at the
same time - then there's a name for it.

Why do I bring this up?

Well, I was recently speaking with an acquaintance of mine about the return of the nice weather and that soon I would have the pleasure of hearing the sound of the peeper frogs and groups of tree toads that congregate near my home in the evenings.

He fixed me with an I'm-smarter-than-you stare, interrupted
me and said 'not'.

"Beg pardon?"

Again he said ''not''.

"Not what, exactly?"

"No, no...tree toads. A group of toads is called a knot. K-N-O-T."

Oh..
(like I needed to know this) Thanks, jerk. J-E-R-K.

It seems that saying there are a bunch of, group of, whole
fuckofalotof whatever just isn't good enough anymore. Now
we need to know the actual name of the particular group.

Did you know, for example:

A group of Finches is called a Charm

A group of frogs is called an Army

A group of Geese on the ground is called a Gaggle, but
a group of Geese in the air is a Skein

A group of Goats is called a Trip

A group of Hares is called a Husk

A group of Kangaroos is called a Mob

A group of Owls is called a Parliament

A group of Rhinos is called a Crash

A group of Whales is called a Pod

And a group of know-it-all acquaintances is called a STFU.

Mustang Sally

I was checking out a few things that The Man had
downloaded on Bit Torrent recently.
(gasp!...illegal downloading..sshhhh!)

A few albums...an updated version of CorelDraw, and...porn.

I have no problem with porn - have been known to watch it
myself, actually. (it's funnier than most comedies these days)

What I found the most amusing however, were the names of some
of these 'porn stars'.

Becky Banger...Tiara Tantric...Lily Luscious...and the list goes on.

Besides the annoying alliteration, these names are just ridiculous.

Everyone knows the 'How to Find Your Porn Star Name' thing - why
don't they use that kind of thing? Incidentally, my porn star name
would be 'Baby Ruth'. How cool is that??

Then there's the comparison between porn stars and children's toys.

My Little Pony(tm) toys had some strange names...Ruby Lips, and
Lickety Split, for example. Sound like something you want your
five year old playing with? Me neither.

To further my point and also to entertain you somewhat, I offer
you a quiz: Porn Star or My Little Pony.

Good bucking luck.




(Click the pretty pony, baby)