Because I've been having some strange fucking dreams lately, and last night's was no exception. It was about my old friend Doug Cole. The dream had a running start and began in Doug's office with me laying back in a chair sitting in front of Doug's desk; his desk had been turned sideways instead of facing the door which is how I remember it. Doug was sitting at his desk and rifling through some papers, and I was laying back looking straight up at the recessed florescent lighting. He asked something to the effect of, "Do you remember that thing that happened?" And I exclaimed that not only did I remember it, but it was a defining moment in my life and I had only recently come around to writing a big blog post about it. Doug was elated as he pulled a clipboard full of handwritten notes from his desk, and explained that he had recently rediscovered the notes that he had taken during the ordeal. He asked me if I wanted them, and I said I did before snatching the clipboard out of his hand. There appeared to be about 15-20 white pages all written on in blue ink, held in place by the shiny piece of metal at the top. For some reason all of the pages were stapled together with one staple at the bottom, but somehow this didn't interfere with reading the notes. I remember being elated as to being able to finally find out if there was really security footage, and being able to find out what Mike SomethingOrOther's last name was. And this is the part that pisses me off about dreams -- he told me Mike's last name and as soon as he did a lightbulb went on like, "Oh YEAH, that's what it was." I remember being so relieved, like finally getting that name off the tip of your tongue. Unfortunately, the instant I awoke from this dream, I couldn't remember what his name was, although I'm pretty sure his last initial isn't K but P. So I guess my subconscious remembers Mike SomethingOrOther's last name, but he's not worthy of my waking mind's attention. Fuck him.
Anyway, I proudly carried the clipboard outside of Doug's office, only instead of the warehouse where I had been walked through handcuffed, was large wide open room with white cinder block walls and a grey concrete floor. One side opened up into the outside world, but I don't remember anything 'out there'. A large group of people were gathered in the middle, not in any kind of a social gathering, but as if they were expecting a delivery or something to that effect. I recognized many of these people as folks I used to work with both in the Air Force (mostly civilian employees) and people from my last job. Also there was 50 Cent and -- no shit -- he was the first person I handed the clipboard to, and encouraged him to read about my little adventure as seen through Doug's eyes. Somehow I felt that as the stereotypical gangsta, he'd appreciate my brush with the law. He read it, laughed, and shared it with someone else -- this time a guy I used to work with named Abderrahim, but everyone just called him by his last name, Inous. Inous read it with great enthusiasm, and passed the clipboard to someone else.
The next thing I remember is it's some time later and after having made the rounds, the clipboard came back to me. There were all these names on it, with check marks next to each name, as if it had been passed around like a birthday card to be signed by your co-workers. I remember being angry not because so many people I didn't know read about my personal life, but because these civilian employees were so goddamned stupid as to think my story about stealing was required reading for their meeting. Then I woke up. Fuck you and your last name, Mike SomethingOrOther.
Obviously no one ever explained the dangers of keeping electrical devices so close to a bath tub.
Prostitution and homicide is no problem. Just don't try to do something perfectly legal, like privately sell a firearm using Craigslist. That is strictly prohibited. Larry
I know you link this site often, but this is a really good one. Great site, thanks Eric
Ernie, I didn't do a time lapse like this guy but my two year old Golden Retriever named Jackson wanted me to play with him in the snow but had to wait until I was done shoveling. The attached pictures show how he protested. -Sam
I was very glad to read an article stating that the guy who refused to show his id after bowing out of the full body scan/patdown, was exonerated of all charges. Now it looks like former wrestler turned governor turned conspiracy theorist Jesse Venture will have his day in court for pretty much the same thing. I'm not saying it's as bad as an e-mail tax, but it's close.
As per moderntiredealer.com, the most popular passenger size tire is P215/60R16. The most popular P215/60R16 (non-snow) tire currently sold on tirerack is the Michelin Energy Saver A/S, which per their specs sheet weighs 21.0 pounds. Then using the standard KE/PE equations we discussed in the Apache physics post from a while back, we convert that mass to metric (9.52 kg) and dropping this tire from a height of 25 feet (7.62 meters), means the tire hits
the ground this guy's head with 712 joules of energy; which is the same force as a 320 lb man jumping off a bed. Those calculations are of course dependent upon the tire in question being a regular passenger car, not one of those piece of shit low profile ones you see Chip Foose cramming down our throats, or the smaller knobby ones used on hot dog carts.
Hi Ernie, Here is a pretty funny post about idiots locking up their personal property. Can you feature it on EHOWA? Kind Regards, David
Hey Ern, Long time fan and a fellow train enthusiast…This happened just down the tracks from my office…They usually go screaming by behind the building back and forth all day long…not this one though. Have a great day. Brian
Sigh. More proof of my failing eyesight. Can anyone tell me what brand of shirt this is and then what this tattoo reads? Thank you in advance.
"The time-traveling is just too dangerous. Better that I devote myself to study the other great mystery of the universe: women!" — Doc Brown from Back to the Future Part II. Everything about that sentence makes sense. Time travel is dangerous, albeit impossible, and women are just plain difficult to understand. So why is this important, you ask? Well, here is a list of the hottest female athletes under 25 years of age. Or as I like to call it, 24 hottest female athletes under 25 years of age besides Allison Stokke. So Back to the Future quotes aside, I hope you enjoy the list.
whats in a surname? - how to tell when your ass is about to get fired
thorough epic holster review ever - play video games with hotties