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Let this serve as a cautionary tale. Wear your seat belt and don't try to outrun the cops. There's no blood or guts in the vid, but still it's intense. And while not actually tech related, I'm sure the SUV had an on-board computer so there.
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Subliminal Comic Book Messages
I was downloading some vintage comic book pages today to cull the old advertisements. I have a thing for that vintage stuff. Anyway, as I perused some of the pages, I began to pick up on a...theme. I clipped some of them out for you to see. Is it me? We'll start with everyone's favorite duck, Donald (and friends). I'll not comment on these, simply present the evidence. Draw your own conclusions.
Next I looked at some Have Gun Will Travel comics and sure enough...
Very interesting.
Very interesting.
I love my job....sigh.
"Good morning, this is Restore Carpet Service. How can I help you?"
"Oh, hello. You come highly recommended from a friend who says that you can get almost any sort of stain out of carpets. I have a real doozie I need removed."
"Ha ha ha...well I've seen a lot of carpet stains in my 20 some years of cleaning. I'm sure I've got something to help the situation. What exactly are we talking about here?'
"Well, actually it's chocolate. I have a very light beige carpet and my younger brother spilled his chocolate. He was running down the hallway from his bedroom to the bathroom when he spilled it."
"Hmmmmm. I see."
"No, I'm afraid you don't. My younger brother is 65 years old and is mentally challenged."
"I understand, ma'am. I've met a few challenged older people in my time."
"That's well and good, but Roger is...special."
"How so?"
"Well, he likes to run through the house naked. Mind you, he's as harmless as a bunny, but he simply enjoys stripping his clothes off and prancing through our home. My husband and I take care of him, you see."
"Oh...well, like I said, I'm not unfamiliar with how to act around challenged people. I'm sure we'll get along fine. Now getting back to the chocolate stain, I'm assuming that Roger likes to eat chocolate?"
"Ha ha, oh he sure does. Anything chocolate in fact. We have to really watch him sometimes. In fact, that's what happened in this case. My husband and I were in the living room watching Wheel Of Fortune a couple of nights ago when we heard Roger moaning quite loudly in his room. We got up and checked on him. We opened his door and he was laying in bed with the lights on. He was awake and had the blankets pulled up tight around his neck. Before we could even say a word, he threw off the blankets and ran by us stark naked down the hallway towards the guest bathroom. That's when he spilled the chocolate."
"So...he...was eating chocolate in bed?"
"Yes. You see when he threw back the covers, there was an empty box of chocolate Ex-Lax laying there along with dozens of Hershey Kisses wrappers. He must have been gorging himself all evening. It's when he started running that he spilled the chocolate onto our carpet."
"...he...spilled...the...."
"Yes. He started squirting chocolate out of his butt like a garden hose. The faster he ran, the harder he squirted. He made it into the bathroom, but only after redecorating our hallway somewhat. My husband was able to get most of it off the walls, but we're quite worried about the carpet. Hello.....?"
"I'm still here. Sigh...how's Friday morning around 9:30am?"
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I love my job.
Blech!!
I feel like crap. Utter crap. The reason is unclear but I'm sure that it is one of the following:
- Far too much caffiene.
- Nothing to eat for the last 6 hours.
- Sleep deprivation.
- Middle age.
- Pre-armageddon jitters.
Soft, soft, soft.
In my 47 years, my hands (especially my right one) have touched many soft things. Baby Klipspringers, the velvet curtains at the Fox Theatre, the downy soft neck hairs of certain women...all of these have brought me great pleasure. But nothing compares to the ever pleasant softness of dryer lint. I find it one of life's simple pleasures to carefully remove the dryer vent, which in my case is comprised of two lint screens on one tray (Yay! Bonus lint!), and retrieve the fuzzmuffin.
Ah, but while all dryer lint provides a measure of tactile tingle, there is one particular lint that can bring me to my knees. After a couple loads of jeans, there will be awaiting me two blue squares of lint peppered with the odd-colored pieces of fuzz from whatever other t-shirt or polo that may have made the trip with the pants. These are enjoyable, but are hardly worth raving about.
But when it's towel time, all bets are off. How these rectangles of fabric continue to provide me with sheet after sheet of hairy joy, I'll never know. I sit on the edge of the stairs each and everytime I load my towels and washcloths into the dryer. Yes, I know that my actions are serving a very important domestic service, but that's an afterthought. It's the lint. Only the lint.
"BUZZZZZZ!!"
I'm off and running. You see, unlike shirts and such, you can allow towels to remain in the dryer once their toasty rotation stops. They're perfectly happy to just lay there worried not about wrinkling. This allows you to focus all of your attention on the trap. The key to this situation is to act without haste. Doing so provides you with a special treat, warm lint. Do you need any further proof that there's a God?
You hold it in your hand, fighting back the tears of joy. Look at it. It's square. It's clean. It's soft. It's fragrant (if you use dryer sheets). And yes, it's warm. But alas, like most things in this passing world, the joy is fleeting. Within seconds, you begin to feel the warmth fade away. Granted, the softness remains, but your psyche is scarred and for good. Into the trash bin it goes. Thank goodness tonight's bath night.
________
Ah, but while all dryer lint provides a measure of tactile tingle, there is one particular lint that can bring me to my knees. After a couple loads of jeans, there will be awaiting me two blue squares of lint peppered with the odd-colored pieces of fuzz from whatever other t-shirt or polo that may have made the trip with the pants. These are enjoyable, but are hardly worth raving about.
But when it's towel time, all bets are off. How these rectangles of fabric continue to provide me with sheet after sheet of hairy joy, I'll never know. I sit on the edge of the stairs each and everytime I load my towels and washcloths into the dryer. Yes, I know that my actions are serving a very important domestic service, but that's an afterthought. It's the lint. Only the lint.
"BUZZZZZZ!!"
I'm off and running. You see, unlike shirts and such, you can allow towels to remain in the dryer once their toasty rotation stops. They're perfectly happy to just lay there worried not about wrinkling. This allows you to focus all of your attention on the trap. The key to this situation is to act without haste. Doing so provides you with a special treat, warm lint. Do you need any further proof that there's a God?
You hold it in your hand, fighting back the tears of joy. Look at it. It's square. It's clean. It's soft. It's fragrant (if you use dryer sheets). And yes, it's warm. But alas, like most things in this passing world, the joy is fleeting. Within seconds, you begin to feel the warmth fade away. Granted, the softness remains, but your psyche is scarred and for good. Into the trash bin it goes. Thank goodness tonight's bath night.
________
For your viewing pleasure, a photo of a cat.
