Email of the Day

Date: 5/31/06
From: Amy
To: Opie
Subject: Elbow licking update
_______________

Opie,

After extensive elbow twisting and head tilting, i am forced to conclude with the little snickers scientist that for a regular person it is impossible to lick one's elbow. However, i am not yet ready to conceed 100%. I believe that if one could dislocate one's shoulder it would be possible to lick one's elbow. Now all i need is a test subject who is freakishly flexible (anyone come to mind whose name begins with O?). Don't worry it will barely hurt at all to dislocate the shoulder but the relocation of it might be another story. I guess i'd have to have one big snickers in order to get you to do that or maybe just a lot of alcohol. By the way, i was thinking i could drive on friday night.

Later,
Amy

Railroad Photolog

Holy Crap... Part 2

Here is a factoid from a recent Newsday article.

"...black men are facing startlingly high HIV infection rates. Nearly half of black men who have sex with men are HIV-positive, the Centers for Disease Control and Prevention estimates."

My commentary is the same as for the men in Baltimore.

A Modeling Craigslist Find

MODEL HERE IN THE MIDWEST from the WEST COAST LOOKING FOR VARIOUS LOCATIONS FOR SHOOTS.... ANYONE OUT THERE KNOW OF ANY OR ARE NICE ENOUGH TO ALLOW ME TO GET SOME PICS TAKEN AT THIS SPECIFIC LOCATION: BARN, with bails of hay......looking to do a farm boy look.. If you have anything or know of anything please get back to me asap, I do appreciate it.. Also looking for a jacuzzi to shoot some pics with as well.....thanks! [craigslist]

Have they no barns nor hay nor jacuzzis on the west coast? You don't actually need to be in the midwest to have a convincing farm themed photo shot, although your striving for authenticity is applauded. I believe the west coast has sufficient barn and hay based technology to make a facsimile work, and it would be a whole lot cheaper. I think in the biz they would call it west coast for midwest.

Open Letter Personal Advice for Personal Ads

MINIMALIST SEEKS WOMAN. Hello, I am Neil, 52-years old and single. I am an insurance agent and looking for the right person. Age 52

Dear Neil,

You sound like a nice guy Neil, direct and to the point, but if you really are a minimalist, you don't want a woman. I have never heard anyone say, "Boy am I glad I met Sally. She sure has made my life simpler." Just a thought.

Sincerely,
Opie

Hypocritical Help Wanted Ad

This is from an actual help wanted ad for a journalist position at a local paper.

Job requirements:
- You need to have a skill in writing, spelling and grammar. AP Style knowledge is preferred.
- Interviewing skills are preferred.

Just from the ad, I think that proficiency in written English requirement is a little more optional then the paper would like to admit.

Evidence of Elijah Wood's Return?

Syphilis makes comeback in New Zealand

I guess it could also be because of Dominic Monaghan.

Cursing the Culinary Arts

I decided to make my mother a turtle cheese cake for mother's day. In that I am not capable of finely and coarsely chopping the pecans as the recipe called for by hand, I mean chopped is chopped right, I went to Bed, Bath and Beyond, and located the baking section. Before long a young male sales assistant asked me if I needed help finding anything, and of course the first thing out of my mouth is, "Yeah, I'm looking for a manual grinder for my nuts." He turned red and looked away, while all I could say was, "you see, I have a lot of pecans to crush." He quickly said that the nut choppers where one row over and scurried away. This is what happens when people unexpectedly initiate conversation with me. I take only partial responsibility for this incident, and blame the rest on unreasonably good sales service.

Addendum: To the left is a picture of the exact model of nut chopper I purchased. Please note that for safety reasons that it should only be used on nuts that grow from trees.

Undergraduate Memories: Erma

Angie, a girl whom I first met because she drunkenly made-out with my roommate at a frat party and then felt the need break up with her boyfriend of five years in a three hour call on my phone, came up to me in the cafateria and blurted out, "I have found the perfect girl for you. You must let me arrange your marriage!"

Now, we had talked at most 3 times, and none of these conversations had raised my opinion of her, and she clearly had no idea what I was looking for.

Angie continued, "I told her about you and she loves all the things you have done plus she likes intellectuals." Just as I was starting to feel slicker from the buttering up, she said, "Her name is Erma!" Nothing good can come from an Erma. My stomach turned at the thought that this could only go down from here and we were starting so very low. Unfortunately Angie continued, "She has a winning personality!"

"So what is wrong with her?", I replied.

"Well, she's has a little bit of a wieght problem," then after grapping my hands Angie, all dowy eyed, said, "But she is only one or two.........hundred pounds heavier than I am."

"Exacly how much heavier."

"She's around 375 pounds," Angie replied, "She is also a little older than you".

"How much older."

"Erma has you by a good five years." Angie continued, "She also..uh....um.... doesn't shave her legs or her pits and um... she likes wearing skimpy clothes."

"Let me get this straight, you think the perfect person for me is an older, 375 pound, scantily clad, hairy woman named Erma." At this point everyone at the table is rolling on the floor with laughter. I continued, "Is there anything else I should know?"

"Well there.. is one mmmooorrreee thing. She is .......bi....sexual." Angie then quickly blurts out, "I think I'll bring her up to your apartment Monday. Make sure your wearing a wifebeater because that turns her on." Then she started to walk away.

"No, No she's not," I announce loudly, "I will never wear a wifebeater to try to turn on an older, 375 pound, scantily clad, hairy, bisexual woman named Erma," but Angie was ignoring me.
Monday rolled around and no one showed up at my door. I thought I was pretty lucky until I realized that I had just been stood up by an older, 375 pound, scantily clad, hairy, bisexual woman named Erma.

Addendum: Angie has recently recieved a Ph.D. with a thesis focus in Human Sexuality. I know that she had a lot of practice in undergrad, but practice does not always make perfect, so beware of her advice!

What are friends for?

I ran into a old friend from high school this week, and after the perfunctory greetings, she rattled off that I have "glassy and intense eyes with crows feet and large bags underneath them, just like my father when he use to steal my Ritalin." Of course, I thanked her for the glowing description and mentioned how fortuanate I am that I can achieve such a look without chemical addiction.

Platitudes Revised

It is often said, "it is the darkest before the dawn." I happen to be
of the thought that it is the darkest right before an undetected black hole
swallows your body and crushes every atom of your being into an infinitely
small splat outside of space-time where the very laws of physics have been
broken to cause you more pain then previously possible in our current universe. Not as catchy as the original saying, but distinctly more accurate.

Career Change?

It appears we are out of the liquid nitrogen I need to run a set of experiments, and I've gotten to the point that I would sell my body for two gallons of liquid nitrogen. The only reason I'm holding back is because I would have to file my income taxes as a "Man of the Evening." Maybe it would be more accurate to file as a "Science Whore."

Time + Good Weather = Hike Photolog

We will say anything for a job

I have to write a recommendation letter for a former intern that my boss can sign. The former intern is trying to get an internship this summer with Proctor & Gamble. While trying to find the address to send the letter to, I came across a web page where interns describe their summer experiences. It made me want to puke. They read like POW statements poorly written by non-English speaking captors and spoken on TV with a Luger pointed at the head just out of frame. Here is a sample and a link to the page.

My summer internship at P&G is astonishingly memorable with a quality of etherealness that provokes a vague longing to return. As my college career slows meanders to its end, I will proudly embark on the P&G career journey, hoping to reincarnate moments of my summer internship, to relive that beautiful summer once again.

I have to go and work as if the hilt of my master's whip was at my back, so please excuse any etherealness that provokes a vague longing resulting from this post. Sometimes I just cannot help it. Dang pungent etherealness!!

Save Our Punctuation

Who can tell that it's Friday, and nobody wants to work.

____________________
From: Mike
To: Opie, Amy
Sent: May 5, 2006 8:00 AM
Subject: Lunch

Back on the regular schedule of lunch on the 12th at 12:30 pm. Can't wait to see ya there.

Mike

P.S. Be there or be quintagonally obtuse.

____________________________
From: Amy
Sent: May 5, 2006 8:28 AM
To: Mike, Opie
Subject: Re: Lunch

NO!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Geometrical Reference . . . Brain . . . cannot . . . process . . .

PAIN!!!!!!!!!!

____________________________
From Opie
Sent May 5 2006 8 43 AM
To Mike Amy
Subject Re Re Lunch

I would just like to launch a formal complaint about the punctuation abuse I see in this email The next time you want to use an exclamation point please just think about all the baby exclamations that had to be clubbed to make that one point Please help stop the exclamation massacre Help bring these punctuations back from the brink of extinction Thank you

Opie
PETP Member

People for the Ethical Treatment of Punctuation PETP has certified that no punctuation was abused or killed in the making of this email

_________________

(Side note: It takes ~1 lamb to make 1 lamb skin condom, so ewww, or should I say "ewe"wwww. Well I can tell you right now, this is going to be a very long day of very bad puns)

Will the NYT please get a science fact checker.

A recent NY Times article describing the potential de-funding of a laser-based anti-satellite system called Starfire contains the following statement.

"Unclassified pictures of Starfire in action show a pencil-thin laser beam shooting up from its hilltop observatory into the night sky."

Unfortunately, unlike what Star Wars would have you believe, one normally cannot see laser beams. If you can see them, it means significant scattering is dramatically weakening the laser's intensity. A quick Google search found the images mentioned above concerning Starfire, like the one to the left. In several places they were accurately labeled as illustrations because the laser beams are drawn in. As such, they are not pictures of Starfire in action, but drawings of how Starfire theoretically works. (Side Note: Because of atmospheric optical dispersion, the tracer and firing lasers are most likely the same color. Which should have been a clue that the lasers were drawn in. I mean besides the obvious labeling of the picture as illustration.) Considering other oversights, I think the NYT needs to hire journalists with stronger scientific backgrounds.

FM radio was considered a luxury.

This response is worth a post.

-----Original Message-----
From: Reis
Sent: Saturday, April 29, 2006 9:18 PM
To: Opie
Subject: ford tempo - a collector's item

Today driving through Wisconsin I was confronted with a Ford Tempo – the same body style as the one you had in high school. It had collector’s plates. It was in the same condition it probably was in when it left the factory. This begs a few obvious questions.

1) Are we now so old that cars we owned in high school are eligible for collector plates?
2) In the name of all that is good, who would collect a Ford Tempo?
3) Why would you lovingly preserve a Tempo?

Any thoughts on these sacred mysteries, please feel free to write back.

I’m telling you, the thing was immaculate. It’s like someone purchased it, put in a garage, ran the engine once in a while, and that’s it until today.

Reis.

-----Original Message-----
From: Opie
Sent: Saturday, May 1, 2006 7:10 PM
To: Reis
Subject: Re: ford tempo - a collector's item

Reis,

Being a former owner of one of these automotive beasts, I feel that I can share from my personal experiences with this vehicle. I will respond in a point by point fashion to your questions, with the possibility of adding sub-lists to the over arching point by point structure. I will also use questionable grammar. Whether this a volitional literary choice or simply an out-working of my grammatical ignorance, I will leave for you to decide.

1) Are we now so old that cars we owned in high school are eligible for collector plates?

The Wisconsin rules for collector plates require that the vehicles be >= 20 years old (please note that >= means greater than or equal to and not a sad emoticon, nor half a de-decapitated man (or woman) laying on his back [or front {but it is definitely not a decapitated woman laying on her back because that would look like this >=3}] ) and my Tempo was made in 1987. I know that the '86 model was very similar to the '87. In fact, the Tempo did not undergo a major redesign until the early 1990's. So, to answer you concisely, yes Reis, you are old. To answer less concisely, yes, the cold hand of time is perpetually dragging you mercilessly to states of ever greater decay until your inevitable demise. Deal with it. While your at it, you might want to deal with any nasal hair issues you have.

2) In the name of all that is good, who would collect a Ford Tempo?

I think that the allure of the Tempo is rooted in Ford's refusal to compromise on either the performance or styling of the vehicle at any point. As a result, the consumer did not have to decide whether to sacrifice power for fuel economy nor styling for safety because it had none of the above. Since capitulation is easier than optimization, the Tempo was left to embody systematic sub-par design--the complete crap package as it were. To improve any individual part of the car would only serve to highlight deficiencies in all other aspects of the design defeating the marketing strategy "Blinded by Mediocrity". An idiocy whose time had come. Spurred by fear of Japanese economic dominance, as demonstrated by such popular movies as "Gung Ho", Americans thought it was their patriotic duty to purchase large, clearly inferior products, and the Tempo fit the bill. After purchase, the immediate predictable yet uncontrollable deterioration of the vehicle with use resulted in the development of unique "features"--in addition to amenities such as passenger accessible windshield wiper control. My car had such "features" as the inability to complete a left-hand turn without stalling on days with greater than 75% relative humidity, the ability to burn oil/oil additives at rates comparable to modern refineries, and what I like to term the specialty "rust package". As each owner learned how to overcome these ever developing life-threatening tendencies, like randomly staling at speeds greater than 55 mph, in their particular car, they would start a vicious cycle. The car would deteriorate to the point that only one person would know all the peculiarities to drive it semi-safely. So the owner could not sell it out of fear of prosecution for negligence, yet could not afford to buy another car. This is the mechanism of forced pair bonding with the Tempo. So Chris, what you witnessed was not the relationship between an object and a collector, but the outworking of a intricate, natural, long-standing relationship based on fear and respect between a man and his car. A relationship that, despite its loving nature, will never be legally recognized, and which will never be allowed to adopt children, which is probably best considering the obvious safety issued raised above.

3) Why would you lovingly preserve a Tempo?

Insanity. Stay away from these people. They are dangerous deviant degenerates. Your only advantage in confronting these people is that tetanus induced lock-jaw from rust-filled regular maintance prevents them from being able to bite. (Side note: This is why Tempos are amongst the lowest rated vehicles in Vampire Consumer Reports and Automotive Zombie Weekly.)

Opie

Will everyone please stop dating psychos...

Below is an excerpt from an advice column.

"Last spring I met and dated a nice young man, and when he broke up with me a few months later, I was hurt ... I think that the reason that it ended was because I'm kind of a downer, have weird issues with sex, and am generally a bit hateful."

My question is how did a hateful, wet blanket of a person with weird sexual issues get a boyfriend, unless her main sexual issue was nymphomania that is.