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From OK Future:
One could reasonably infer from this sign that the Koreans have a major problem with men peeking into women’s toilet stalls.
Link
Yes, indeed one might infer that.
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38-year-old Cynthia Hunter of Florida was jailed for 50 days when police found a vial containing a yellow substance in her purse. She said it was cat urine for her son's science experiment, but she was locked up for 50 days until the lab results confirmed that the substance was indeed cat urine. Cynthia Hunter was arrested in August accused of stealing at a Brandon Wal-Mart.
The 38-year-old mother was charged with possession of a controlled substance after deputies found a vial in her purse that a field test suggested was meth.
Link
http://feeds.boingboing.net/~r/boingboing/iBag/~3/170980949/woman-jailed-for-50.html
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From Boing Boing. Is this the best story you ever heard, or what? (Obviously, I'm still looking for best practices on linking to a story on another site.)
Full-size image: Link.
A charming lady named Nadege Brunacci emailed a BB reader this account of having discovered a large snake in the sewage pipes inside her home. That BB reader (her ex-husband) forwarded it along to us, with her consent. I am not acquainted with the emailer or the python-finder, and have no way to fact-check, really -- so I'm not sure it's for reals.
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Did you see the story about the German guy with two penises? He lost his original equipment in an accident, so doctors built him a new one. Later, he decided to upgrade, but doctors left the previous one until the new one took root, so to speak.There is an artistic precedent for the man’s dilemma. The eponymous hero of Shel Silverstein’s song “Stacy Brown Got Two” from his 1972 album Freakin’ at the Freakers’ Ball, was born slightly deformed, with extra equipment unseen except by the happy few. Well, not so few. Here’s a link to the words, on International Lyrics Playground. Stacy’s girlfriends, unlike the German man’s wife, woke up smiling every morning. Stacy must not have had anything attached to him that brought Frankenstein to mind.
http://www.ananova.com/news/story/sm_1315211.html
When his wife saw the new one, she packed her bags and left him. This raises many questions about what made the wife so mad. There are many possibilities.
I’ll always remember a conversation I overheard at the gym years ago. An unhappy wife was bitterly complaining to a friend that her husband bought a boat without talking to her first. Apparently wives need to be told everything. So I guess one possibility is that the husband didn’t consult his wife before spending their retirement savings on a third pecker that looks like Frankenstein’s month-old banana.
Another possibility is that the man said something inappropriate when he showed his wife his two penises. One can imagine many wrong things to say. Here is a partial list.
1. So, anyhoo, when is your sister coming out to visit?
2. The little one is for you.
3. I’m already a two-fisted drinker, so this just seemed right.
4. I bought the deluxe unicorn option. The next one goes on my head.
5. No more rest breaks for you, beeatch.
6. Maybe the doctors can give you two headaches so we’re even.
7. Now it will feel like throwing TWO pencils down a hallway.
Another possibility is that the man created his own penis design and it had some features that didn’t please his wife. Again, one can imagine many wrong design choices:
1. Bottle opener option
2. Anything with a face
3. A tattoo that says, “Hello Kitty!”
My point is that there were many ways to handle this situation wrong. You can see how a guy with one big head and two little ones might make the wrong choice.
Every unhappy family is unhappy in its own way.
Over here, Regan has been "helping Janey get packed for camp." In the way characteristic of my spouse's family of origin, she defines "helping" as it pleases her. She's been over every day this week since Sunday; tonight she's on call (she's interning as a chaplain at Tentacled Hospital), so she won't be able to come. First she helped Janey clean her room, then she helped Janey rearrange her furniture, then she helped Janey decide what clothes and books she didn't want anymore, then she helped Janey put away her laundry and identify what she already had that was camp-ready. Janey seems happy with the results, so I'm happy (the more so since her room is neat and her clothes are put away). This is what motivated Cindy to begin work on her own room - this and a gorgeous satin comforter she found. Both girls are so much more content and less contentious now that they have their own space. I am happy with the end, so I endure the means.
So everything was going well till last night. Regan came over about dinnertime, and, though I had planned to cook, I was so worn out that both Nick and Cindy thought we should go out for sandwiches. So we asked Janey and Regan what we could bring back for them or if they wanted to come or what. Regan was waiting for a call from EB, she said, and she would take Janey out later. Okay, fine. So as we're getting ready to walk out the door, the call from EB comes, and it turns out that he's taking Regan and Janey shopping and out to dinner. JUST Regan and Janey. We didn't even know he was in town.
Well. I deal with it in my usual mature way by crying, hollering, and biting pieces out of Nick in the car all the way to Sandwiches R Overpriced. Cindy is hurt and angry and feels like this confirms her belief that Regan and EB like Janey better than her. Nick is torn up because he doesn't want to be mad at his brother and his oldest daughter, but they're behaving like assholes.
We do some modest retail therapy at Indigenous Tchotchkes after Sandwiches R Overpriced and get home about 9:30. Regan calls and says they're just now sitting down to eat. I expostulate, if that's the word I want, loudly about people who don't have children and don't understand about schedules and bedtimes (after Nick hangs up). Nick has almost made up his mind to go ahead and be pissed off anyway. brother and daughter be dammed. We get ready for bed. At 10:30 or 11, Regan and Janey walk in the door and go to Janey's room to drop off her things. Regan doesn't say kiss my ass to her father or me. Janey, poor thing, is happy with her nice things and enjoyed her dinner (at Chez Local Personality, thank you very much). Cindy is furious. I'm choking back tears, in a mature way of course, but I stress to her that nothing is her fault. And so to bed.
From the Crazy Apple Rumors site. Mac users will soon be able to roll their own lolcats. I might spring for a .Mac account now. Certainly this feature adds value to the upcoming iPhone (iPr0n).
This just in from The Dilbert Blog. I use the same process to make up bedtime stories for Cindy, but I had never thought of expanding it to cover life anecdotes. We are the stories we tell.
The Dilbert Blog: Good Stories: "It has come to my attention that most people have no good stories. If you ask people to tell their best stories, you get blank stares and then something along the lines of “Well, once I lost my wallet.”
This has long puzzled me because I’m full of stories. How could I have so many, and other people have so few?
My brother made the same observation recently. Like me, he has plenty of stories that would make your jaw drop. And he noticed that other people seem to have none. One theory for this apparent discrepancy is that everyone’s life includes plenty of fascinating events but few people organize them in their memories as stories.
I have the same facility for jokes, which are essentially little stories. If I hear a joke once, I own it forever. Usually I’ll remember some seed of the joke – a key word or concept, and I can reproduce the rest of it by understanding how jokes are constructed. Apparently I have a story-oriented brain.
Now I suppose I owe you a story. Fair enough. I’ll pull one from the bag."
--
Glenda
WOODROW CALL: ...and if that ain't bad enough you got all them Greek words on there, too.
GUS McCRAE: I told you, Woodrow, a long time ago, it ain't Greek, it's Latin.
WOODROW CALL: Well what does it say in Latin? For all you know it invites people to rob us.
GUS McCRAE: Well, the first man comes along that can read Latin is welcome to rob us, far as I'm concerned. I'd like a chance t'shoot at a educated man once in my life.
--Tommy Lee Jones and Robert Duvall in LONESOME DOVE
Since When Are Slaves "Hired"?
Student: Didn't the ancient Romans also eat lying down?
Professor: Yes.
Student: That's really bad for your digestion.
Professor: Well, it was good for having sex with the hired help after.
--Bard High School Early College
Oooh, I want these so bad. But they're sold out.
Boing Boing: Tetris fridge magnets
What do you think about when you pet a dog or cat? There are three typical categories:
1. You imagine how it feels for the animal so you can maximize its pleasure.
2. You think about how it feels to you and your hand.
3. You think about whatever you were going to think about anyway.
If you imagine what it’s like to be the animal, you are probably a generous and giving person who gets shit upon by everyone who has your cell phone number.
If you think about how you and your hand feel, you are probably a selfish, egotistical douche bag.
If you think about whatever you were going to think about anyway, you’re either a sociopath or too busy to enjoy life.
Lately I’ve been trying a new cat-petting method. I keep reading about how pets make people healthier. So I try to visualize the health benefits I’m getting from petting the cat. As I pet, I imagine my blood pressure and cholesterol dropping while my white blood cell count is rising. I tell myself this symbiotic relationship is healthy for the cat too. It’s a win-win scenario. Eventually my mind drifts off to whatever topic I plan to write for my blog.
I realize my petting method makes me a selfish, egotistical, sociopath, douche bag. I figure that’s a small price to pay to live long enough to be an old coot and a burden on society.
It’s important to have goals when you pet. Otherwise you’re just rubbing another mammal for no reason.
Mark Frauenfelder: Jim says:From Boing Boing, 6/6/07, 5:01 p.m. (catching up on my newsreading). I wish there was a way to have live updates, like we used to have with the old Netscape Fish Cam. Of course, that one wasn’t mounted on the actual fish. My cats would never stand for this. It would make an interesting few seconds of footage, though.
Mr. Lee is a cat in Germany, whose owner has attached a camera to his collar so that we can share his daily adventures! Some of the photos are mysterious. Others are beautiful. I love this!
Link
David Pescovitz:
The Say-A-Blessing electronic keychain plays ten common Jewish prayers and blessings in Hebrew and English. It also contains a bonus LED flashlight. Unlikely that it would be kosher to use this on the Sabbath. It's $15 from the Jewish Learning Group.
Link (Thanks, Jason Tester!)
Cory Doctorow:
Mommy's Chairs are designer chairs that appear to have been drawn by a five-year-old with a poor grasp of perspective. Made of bent steel rods in uncertain, shaky lines, they come in four sizes, with a breathtaking pricetag of £250. Link (via Gizmodo)
Nick, Janey, Cindy and I had dinner last night with the brother-in-law. For the first time in recorded history, Janey and Cindy were talkative and vivacious during the meal. Too bad most of their conversation revolved around bodily functions and the earthworm Janey had dissected that day in science class.
Even though I'm a language person who is privileged to share my home with four cats, varying in their loquacity, I am not at all confident I could quickly learn kitty pidgin. To be explored further, perhaps with digicam in hand....
Anil Dash: Cats Can Has Grammar
Cindy helpfully points out examples of the AMP (Anger Management Problem) of various family members, and reminds us that she's working on hers. She is, too.
Honk if you're married and can't cope with anger - 04/22/2007 - MiamiHerald.com
I suppose sangria would count, too. Or red beer, which I could never bring myself to taste.
Fruity cocktails count as health food, study finds - CNN.com
My God. The dangers of modern life.
My mother was born in 1919 to a family of sharecroppers in the North Georgia mountains. She was a grown woman before she ever saw a flush toilet, and it scared her. I can only imagine her reaction to a toilet that lit your ass on fire.
April 16, 2007, 7:29 AM CDT
TOKYO -- Japan's leading toilet maker Toto Ltd. is offering free repairs for 180,000 bidet toilets after wiring problems caused several to catch fire, the company said Monday.
The electric bidet accessory of Toto's Z series caught fire in three separate incidents between March 2006 and March 2007, according to company spokeswoman Emi Tanaka. The bidet sent up smoke in 26 other incidents, the company said.
"Fortunately, nobody was using the toilets when the fire broke out and there were no injuries," Tanaka said. "The fire would have been just under your buttocks."
The company will repair 180,000 toilet units manufactured between May 1996 and December 2001 for free, she said. A manufacturing defect is thought to have led to the faulty wiring.
Toto has been a pioneer in high-tech toilets fitted with pressurized water sprayers -- a standard fixture in Japanese homes.
The popular Z series features a pulsating massage spray, a power dryer, built-in-the-bowl deodorizing filter, the "Tornado Wash" flush and a lid that opens and closes automatically. Prices range from $1,680 to $2,600.
The model is not sold overseas.
Copyright (c) 2007, The Associated Press
--Milon Restaurant
Overheard by: LBC & The Imbiber
