Stupid stuff.
Take your picture. Right now. Submit to your 5:00 AM stupor for all the world to see. Wipe the encrusted sleepers from your eyes, do your best to focus, fire a self-portrait, and share with the rest of the class!
Who knows? What you end up with might just be art! it might be crap. I haven’t decided what mine is yet. I’d say art, but I chopped off my chin. Therefore, it’s artsy crap. But crap is the basis of genius. And I’m full of it…
With apologies to Paul Hatch…I always disliked this jingle.
When you tell one lie, it leads to another
So you tell two lies to cover each other
Then you tell three lies and, oh brother
You’re in trouble up to your ears!
So you tell four lies to try to protect you
Then you tell five lies so folks won’t suspect you
Then you tell six lies and you’ll collect
A life filled with worries and fears
‘Cause you can’t remember how many lies you’ve told
And half the things you say aren’t true
And sometime you’ll slip up, you’ll trip up and then
Whatever will become of you?
So you lie and lie without even trying
And each lie you tell will keep multiplying
‘Till the whole wide world will know you’re lying
Then you’ll be
Suspected
Detected
Rejected
Neglected
Disliked
And you should!
When you lie, you’re closing the door
On everything good
While randomly searching for comma splices I ran across the Guide to Grammar and Writing at Capital Community College. I’m an extremely concise technical writer, however, I’m also a self-taught high school dropout (see, a comma splice). Because of this I tend to write using my own personal set of rules that I’ve put together while reading technical manuals and other documentation sets.
I’ve finally gotten over my mental block of how text should look and have decided to start studying English again. Although I pride myself on my spelling I know I have a lot to relearn about grammar and syntax. I use technical grammar and syntax rules in everything I write and I’ve known for years that there are some places where that’s just not appropriate. Examples would be numbers (twenty-three students vs. 23 students), lists (one, two and three vs. one, two, and three), and other miscellaneous things that the average reader wouldn’t pick up on but many of my friends have commented on.
I’m also guilty of intentionally using inappropriate grammar for dramatic effect. Comma splices are my most used infraction. Inappropriate conjunctions. Verbless sentences? Ahem…
So, anyone who knows my writing style will start to see a change in my posts. I’ll be making an active attempt to immediately apply appropriate changes to my everyday journal entries and forum posts. Wish me luck.
I left the mystery bag in front of the garage at the address on the envelope I found in it. This morning I got a voicemail from its owner thanking me profusely for going out of my way to return it. How many karma points is that?
Yesterday evening’s commute home was quite amusing. I found a leather bag in the middle of the road leaving work. You’d think that the owner of such an expensive bag filled with medical course notes and textbooks would at least tag it with their contact information. No such luck. Not even a name written on any of the note pages.
After rooting through this poor soul’s belongings and stale granola bars, I finally found a single envelope that had an address on it right up the street. I stopped by last night and this morning but no one was home. Since I couldn’t verify that the bag belonged to that address I didn’t want to just leave it on the step. I’ll try again this evening and leave a note.
As if finding the bag wasn’t exciting enough, I then witnessed a flatbed semi truck shuck the side of an early nineties luxury sedan at junction 95 and 93 in Woburn. The car was in the middle lane. The trucker lazily flipped on his directional and meticulously changed lanes right into the sedan. Rear trailer tires tend to do a very good job of removing every single piece of plastic from the side of a car.
Chunks of car and trailer bounced off my hood and skid plates, the car slammed to a halt in the center lane of 95 North and the truck just kept right on going. I chased down the truck and flashed him with my high beams. No response. I honked. No response. I flew by him, put on my hazards, pulled in front of him, slowed down, motioned to the breakdown lane, pulled into the breakdown lane and he accelerated as he passed me.
Finally I armed my Hella driving beams, got back behind him, and flashed him repeatedly while weaving back and forth and pulled into the breakdown lane. He finally got the hint, pulled over and came to a stop. Shortly thereafter, the guy he hit rolled up to the scene and parked in front of the semi.
911. Busy signal. 911. Got hung up on. 911. Busy signal. 911. “Don’t bother us if there are no injuries, just exchange papers.” The quote of the evening from the trucker was “I dun even remember hittin’ you an’ din’t feel nuttn’”. A close second was “a lil’ rubbn’ compound l’ take that right out”. I gave my name, address and phone number and will probably have to fill out some paperwork.
Feh. At least there was some cause for concern.
You’d think that apt.freshrpms.net would be easy enough to remember whenever I need to install Apt on a new RedHat Linux box. But no…it always takes me 20 minutes to dig through bookmarks and find it. Now all I have to do is remember that I blogged about it and search for it on my own site.
Right. Like that’ll happen.
Each of the ground floor offices at work is a half basement. When inside, the grass is right at chest level and there is an overhang just inside the window where cubicle dwellers store their toys. One unfortunate soul left a box of their Depend undergarments sitting on the shelf proudly displayed for the entire parking lot to see. And, if that wasn’t bad enough, not only was the box open but they were falling out. Hrm…
Aoccdrnig to rsereach at an Elingsh uinervtisy, it deosn’t mttaer in waht oredr the ltteers in a wrod are, the olny iprmoetnt tihng is taht frist and lsat ltteres are in the rghit pclae. The rset can be a toatl mses and you can sitll raed it wouthit a porbelm. Tihs is bcuseae we do not raed ervey lteter by istlef, but the wrod as a wlohe.
If yesterday’s truck accident wasn’t bad enough, rubberneckers and news crews caused a huge tieup and traffic jam hours after the accident was completely cleaned up yesterday. During rush hour on the commute home, dozens of reporters, multiple news vans, satellite vans and state troopers were still camped out in the grass at the junction of Routes 128 and 93 in Woburn yesterday evening.
The resulting gridlock made getting onto Route 93 North impossible traffic was at a complete standstill. There was absolutely no reason for the news crews to still be there because there was no news to report. No accident. No truck. No fire. Just traffic. And, to add insult to injury, I can’t even find any coverage of the evening rush hour on the local news sites. So the news crews caused a traffic jam for no reason whatsoever.
Zoomtards.
Damage Studios is an equal opportunity employer, unless you’re a previous SCO employee. Giggle.