It is so very hot in my apartment. One would think that it would cool off in the evening, but it doesn't. Everything else cools off, but not my apartment. This leads me to believe that the reason it cools down everywhere else in the evening is that my apartment absorbs all of the heat of the day.
If you will pardon me, I am going to go light myself on fire to cool down.1
1. www.nedroid.com
Thursday, September 24, 2009
Monday, September 21, 2009
Dishes
Over the last few days, I had been neglecting the growing pile of dirt dishes that was growing on my counter, but today I decided to wash them all. The dish drying rack I have is not designed to hold the amount of dishes that I now required it to hold. This is a situation which I find myself in quite frequently. Actually, I suppose that it does not actually occur all that frequently, as it takes several days to accumulate such a large quantity of dirty dishes. Never mind. It is a situation in which I find myself in sometimes.
Though this situation is somewhat inconvenient, I kind of enjoy it. I think that a giant tower of drying dishes is more exciting than a sparsely populated dish rack. There is a sense of accomplishment in overcoming the limitations of the dish rack's limited real estate. One appreciates the delicate balance of the dishes. Each dish occupies its proper place in the hierarchy of the dish tower, each dish depends on the dishes around it for support. There is a chaotic beauty in the dish tower that would not exist if I wasn't a lazy procrastinator.
Though this situation is somewhat inconvenient, I kind of enjoy it. I think that a giant tower of drying dishes is more exciting than a sparsely populated dish rack. There is a sense of accomplishment in overcoming the limitations of the dish rack's limited real estate. One appreciates the delicate balance of the dishes. Each dish occupies its proper place in the hierarchy of the dish tower, each dish depends on the dishes around it for support. There is a chaotic beauty in the dish tower that would not exist if I wasn't a lazy procrastinator.
Monday, November 24, 2008
Chaps and Other Important Things
Good morning, connoisseurs of fine internet literature. It has come to my attention that if a person is going to start a blog, they should update it more than once every...time. My apologies! I was not aware of this (that is a dirty lie, I totally knew about that)
But enough about that. Today I would like to talk about something that has been bothering me for quite some time. Chaps. More specifically, why does everybody call them buttless, or even assless (apologies for the cuss language, but I feel that it is a necessary evil for the purpose of this blog) chaps? I mean, it doesn't even begin to make sense to call them these things.
Chaps are pants with the bum area missing. Calling chaps assless chaps is like calling, say, the headless horseman the headless headless horseman. It just won't do. If you call the headless horseman the headless headless horseman he will probably chase you into a forest and slice up your leg pretty bad. (This is complete supposition on my part, I don't really know much about the headless horseman)
What is that guy's deal anyway? Was he beheaded or something, and now his decapitated body rides around on a horse, causing trouble and generally being a cranky dude? If so, is his horse also dead? What is the horse's beef with the living? (pun totally intended, though to be fair it's not very good as beef traditionally comes from cows) Is the headless horseman's head still lingering around in the land of the living, causing all sorts of mischief? Perhaps he haunts the next hollow over. These are questions I would like to know the answer to.
But back to the issue at hand. Call them chaps. Call them assless pants if you must. But don't call them assless chaps. That is just a grossly unnecessary use of the word assless. Which, as I am sure that the astute among you have noticed, is actually a portmanteau of two different words: ass and less.
Now, according to some theories that have emerged in the field of linguistics recently, you can only use certain words so many times before you lose the ability to use said overused word. Imagine this situation: you have been incorrectly calling "chaps" "assless chaps" your entire life, and the occasions you have had to use this term have been ample. Since assless is a portmanteau of ass and less, you might suddenly find yourself in a situation where you meant to say "I wish I fell down the stairs less," only it would come out "I wish I fell down the stairs ..." Your friends would think that you were quite odd. One of them may even push you down the stairs.
In conclusion, stairs are a danger to us all and should all be replaced with elevators immediately.
But enough about that. Today I would like to talk about something that has been bothering me for quite some time. Chaps. More specifically, why does everybody call them buttless, or even assless (apologies for the cuss language, but I feel that it is a necessary evil for the purpose of this blog) chaps? I mean, it doesn't even begin to make sense to call them these things.
Chaps are pants with the bum area missing. Calling chaps assless chaps is like calling, say, the headless horseman the headless headless horseman. It just won't do. If you call the headless horseman the headless headless horseman he will probably chase you into a forest and slice up your leg pretty bad. (This is complete supposition on my part, I don't really know much about the headless horseman)
What is that guy's deal anyway? Was he beheaded or something, and now his decapitated body rides around on a horse, causing trouble and generally being a cranky dude? If so, is his horse also dead? What is the horse's beef with the living? (pun totally intended, though to be fair it's not very good as beef traditionally comes from cows) Is the headless horseman's head still lingering around in the land of the living, causing all sorts of mischief? Perhaps he haunts the next hollow over. These are questions I would like to know the answer to.
But back to the issue at hand. Call them chaps. Call them assless pants if you must. But don't call them assless chaps. That is just a grossly unnecessary use of the word assless. Which, as I am sure that the astute among you have noticed, is actually a portmanteau of two different words: ass and less.
Now, according to some theories that have emerged in the field of linguistics recently, you can only use certain words so many times before you lose the ability to use said overused word. Imagine this situation: you have been incorrectly calling "chaps" "assless chaps" your entire life, and the occasions you have had to use this term have been ample. Since assless is a portmanteau of ass and less, you might suddenly find yourself in a situation where you meant to say "I wish I fell down the stairs less," only it would come out "I wish I fell down the stairs ..." Your friends would think that you were quite odd. One of them may even push you down the stairs.
In conclusion, stairs are a danger to us all and should all be replaced with elevators immediately.
Tuesday, September 30, 2008
Giraffes
The other day, while I was playing badminton with several famous people, I thought to myself "I should start a blog. That would be pretty rad." So I said to my badmintonpanions (badminton + companions) "It's been a slice, but I have to go start a blog now", and ran home and asked my good friend Steven Sukkau to set up a blog for me, because I don't really know anything about blogging.
Introductory remarks aside, I'd like to talk about giraffes. Giraffes are interesting because they are pretty much just a better version of horses, and this is really the only example we might call (animal) version 2.0. I mean, there's just no way that horses can compete with giraffes in terms of neck length, color, speed, and stamina, which are really the only categories that actually matter when one is talking about medium-large sized quadrupeds.
My question, when I thought about this, was "why haven't we seen more v.2.0 animals?" But then I thought, most animals are probably already v.2.0 or higher. The previous models have just fallen out of circulation. For example, tigers probably weren't always the efficient killing machines they are today. Perhaps they didn't always have legs, and had to hunt their prey like a large furry snake.
It saddens me a bit to think that horses will be gone in about 5 years, but it frightens me even more that we might be seeing people with really long necks as soon as 7 years from now. Oh well.
Introductory remarks aside, I'd like to talk about giraffes. Giraffes are interesting because they are pretty much just a better version of horses, and this is really the only example we might call (animal) version 2.0. I mean, there's just no way that horses can compete with giraffes in terms of neck length, color, speed, and stamina, which are really the only categories that actually matter when one is talking about medium-large sized quadrupeds.
My question, when I thought about this, was "why haven't we seen more v.2.0 animals?" But then I thought, most animals are probably already v.2.0 or higher. The previous models have just fallen out of circulation. For example, tigers probably weren't always the efficient killing machines they are today. Perhaps they didn't always have legs, and had to hunt their prey like a large furry snake.
It saddens me a bit to think that horses will be gone in about 5 years, but it frightens me even more that we might be seeing people with really long necks as soon as 7 years from now. Oh well.
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