Yes, I know, Snakes On A Plane is overdone, cliched, and so 6 months ago. However, just consider all of the possible sequels.from » I Love Fark.com dept
Puppies on a Pirate Ship
Yes, I know, Snakes On A Plane is overdone, cliched, and so 6 months ago. However, just consider all of the possible sequels.from » I Love Fark.com dept
Mixed Metaphors Ahead: Proceed With Caution
Life as surfing. Surfing as life. Lovely in the abstract, tiring otherwise. You have to work hard just to get to a place where there is the potential for something cool to happen, assuming, of course, impeccable timing, perfect balance and strong shoulders.Copious amounts of energy are wasted on false opportunities--which waves are truly powerful and which are superficial. To get any good at surfing, or at life, you need to screw up gorgeous set after gorgeous set. Oblivious to your struggle, however, people on the left and right of you seem to take off with ease.
When I see and hear and feel the opportunity about to crash on to me, all I can usually muster is a faint "oh #$!@" as I am sucking into the power of events.
Solitude is impossible. The known spots are mobbed and people will murder to keep their secluded spots secret.
Board shorts are less about style and more about putting something, please, anything, between your legs and a board that loves to rip out hairs. The devil truly is in the details. And there is plenty of space for him. Wax that retains enough sand to become 20 grit sandpaper, the waves just small enough to avoid notice but big enough to smash the board in your face, and the leash with the rusted swivel that coils around your leg as if it were a snake on a plane.
Both have inherent trade-offs. I would say normally I rarely pee on myself. I especially avoid doing so in the company of friends, even if I am cold. However, cold or not, I always managed to locate a jetstream somewhere nearby.
Moreover, real mortal danger is all around you--the guy that beat on my car window the other day or the rip tide pulling me out to sea, my plane being blown up by chapstick or a wave pinning me to a sharp and jagged reef.
Still, I enjoy the ride. Last week I paddled out with a few friends in a nice secluded spot, let out a few howls for friends' sweet rides, and caught a few myself. The water was warm (on its own), the sets were rolling in nicely, and as the last bit of dusk was fading away, we made the long paddle back.
A pile of bills, an unfinished RFP, a belly that refuses to stop expanding, and a bakers dozen of bad habits await me. I think only, "God help me. The ocean is so big and my
from » common-life-issues-as-cliched-insights dept
Guessing Games
Late night. Somehow cartoons were made. Join the conversation on Tom's site to see who made which. I will give you a hint--match snippets of conversation to movies to in-flight movies to recent flight schedules and reconcile against known whereabouts of parties involved.
from » Anti Deflagration League, G.O.P.
from » Anti Deflagration League, G.O.P.
An Apology: Out of My Element
Oh, the tangled (inter)web I weave! When first I blogged to deceive.
After a rough 16 hour day a few weeks ago, I violated a personal moral standard I have lived by since childhood--do not blog after midnight. Intoxicated by MSG-laden Chinese food, angered by drunk tourists in my elevator, and emboldened by wireless networks winging their way into my room I blogged in error.
What was riotously funny to me at the time, apparently is unintelligble or uncool to others. Frankly, I was out of my element.
Equity Private raised a number of questions in her post regarding who I am and the nature of our relationship. I aim only to convince her I am a savory character up to some good. I am often gruntled and quite consolate. I am, after all, something to sneeze at, someone you could easily hold a candle to, someone who usually arouses bridled passion.
Though I have not met her, I imagine EP to be a descript person, a woman in a state of total array. Her hair is likely kempt, her clothing probably shevelled, and she undoutedbly moves in a gainly way.
I acted with strong givings by implying a deep, committed relationship existed between us. This is in error. Only toward and heard-of behavior will do, so I must admit that this promptu creation is false.
EP, how can I advertently abuse you of the notion that I am sipid?
The Dude: Walter, the chinaman who peed on my rug, I can't go give him a bill, so what are you talking about?
Walter Sobchak: What are you talking about? The chinaman is not the issue here, Dude. I'm talking about drawing a line in the sand, Dude. Across this line, you DO NOT... Also, Dude, chinaman is not the preferred nomenclature. Asian-American, please.
The Dude: Walter, this isn't a guy who built the railroads here. This is a guy...
Walter Sobchak: What are you talking about?
The Dude: Walter, he peed on my rug!
Donny: He peed on the Dude's rug.
Walter Sobchak: Donny you're out of your element!
from » the-dude dept
The War Is Upon Us
Kitten Wars! What a beautiful concept. A webpage serves up two random kittens and you vote on who is the cutest. Be sure to check out the winningest kittens and the rejects.As one friend put it, my semi-secret cat fetish is out. I admit, I spend a fair amount of time on this site. One of my favorite features, or course, is their faq. One reader asks if he can copy their code. The response, however, points out some unique features of kittenwars.com:
"It was custom coded for kittens anyway, and you'd get all kinds of horrible errors if you tried to use it to measure the relative cuteness of other things."
This page is particularlly useful to browse on your mobile device. For example, on the ride up to my apartment, while doing my civic duty to vote for cute kittens, I managed to strike up a conversation with a particularly attractive neighbor by asking her which kitten she would pick. A real ice-breaker, this one...
Avid » Cool readers of course will know that while I love kittens, I don't particularly care for cats. I like them only insomuch as they kill rats and mice. For many many years now I have postulated that cats belong outside so they can kill said vermin, which I have loathed from childhood.However, I am willing to concede a corollary to this theory. Cats also belong in sinks. And basins.
Luckily, I have found a support group dedictated to felines under faucets: www.catsinsinks.com. What's it about, you might ask. Well, luckily the site has anticipated just such a question.
"It's about cats. And kittens. Who like sinks. And basins."
Make sure to check it out--it is the only place on the internet that has a dedicated "Show Me Another Cat In A Sink" button.
from » klinker & cosmo dept
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