More on the snake-in-the-toilet theme

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.)

French lady finds python in pee-pipes

Posted by Xeni Jardin, October 16, 2007 12:18 AM

permalink

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.

Powered by ScribeFire.

Even better than when George I threw up on the Japanese guy!

From Boing Boing, posted by Xeni Jardin, October 7, 2007, 1:56 p.m., this lovely video of a member of the Swedish Projectile Vomiting Team. Soon to be an Olympic sport.

Powered by ScribeFire.

Hornier Than a…

From the Dilbert Blog for September 15, 2007:

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.

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.

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.

All-Purpose Problem-Solving Ass-Covering Flowchart

Whatever its origins, I love this chart. I think I'll post it in my office.

Powered by ScribeFire.

EUFIUIIOW, Ch. 1

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.

Apple Announces Lolcats Strategy

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).

Formulating in the Oral Tradition

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."