Friday, September 24, 2010

Soccer, eh? I'll just watch until someone scores a goal.

Cookies by Douglas Adams

This actually did happen to a real person, and the real person was me. I had gone to catch a train. This was April 1976, in Cambridge, U.K. I was a bit early for the train. I'd gotten the time of the train wrong.

I went to get myself a newspaper to do the crossword, and a cup of coffee and a packet of cookies. I went and sat at a table.

I want you to picture the scene. It's very important that you get this very clear in your mind.

Here's the table, newspaper, cup of coffee, packet of cookies. There's a guy sitting opposite me, perfectly ordinary-looking guy wearing a business suit, carrying a briefcase.

It didn't look like he was going to do anything weird. What he did was this: he suddenly leaned across, picked up the packet of cookies, tore it open, took one out, and ate it.

Now this, I have to say, is the sort of thing the British are very bad at dealing with. There's nothing in our background, upbringing, or education that teaches you how to deal with someone who in broad daylight has just stolen your cookies.

You know what would happen if this had been South Central Los Angeles. There would have very quickly been gunfire, helicopters coming in, CNN, you know. . . But in the end, I did what any red-blooded Englishman would do: I ignored it. And I stared at the newspaper, took a sip of coffee, tried to do a clue in the newspaper, couldn't do anything, and thought, what am I going to do?

In the end I thought, nothing for it, I'll just have to go for it, and I tried very hard not to notice the fact that the packet was already mysteriously opened. I took out a cookie for myself. I thought, that settled him. But it hadn't because a moment or two later he did it again. He took another cookie.

Having not mentioned it the first time, it was somehow even harder to raise the subject the second time around. "Excuse me, I couldn't help but notice . . ." I mean, it doesn't really work.

We went through the whole packet like this. When I say the whole packet, I mean there were only about eight cookies, but it felt like a lifetime. He took one, I took one, he took one, I took one. Finally, when we got to the end, he stood up and walked away.

Well, we exchanged meaningful looks, then he walked away, and I breathed a sigh of relief and sat back. A moment or two later the train was coming in, so I tossed back the rest of my coffee, stood up, picked up the newspaper, and underneath the newspaper were my cookies.

The thing I like particularly about this story is the sensation that somewhere in England there has been wandering around for the last quarter-century a perfectly ordinary guy who's had the same exact story, only he doesn't have the punch line.

(Excerpted from "The Salmon of Doubt: Hitchhiking the Galaxy One Last Time" by Douglas Adams)

Source: http://www.woltermanns.com/misc/cookies_Adams.htm

TIMMAAA

Tuesday, May 11, 2010

Dumb ex-girlfriend



Some guy on reddit says:
Here's my analysis of her problems in this conversation. Feel free to add.
  1. Ignorance - She didn't understand what the phrase "red tape" means.
  2. Unnecessarily Critical - She bashed you for not distinguishing between government and school.
  3. Animosity - Accusing you of being incapable of a conversaton over one commonly used phrase she didn't know.
  4. Insecurity - She thought you were trying to act smarter than her by using words she wasn't aware of and then making them seem common-sense. This is the primary reason why she wants to cut the conversation short.
  5. Stupidity - Saying that intellectual would be a better fit for your last line when intelligible was the better word.
This also applies across the board.
http://www.reddit.com/r/pics/comments/c2vqk/i_forgot_why_we_broke_up_until_now/c0ptyam

Recursive Cartoon

How a sewing machine works

Saturday, April 3, 2010

George Clooney is awesome

"Richard had this cat that he loved and adored," Ben Weiss tells me. "So George would go in the bathroom, and that's where the litter box was. And there would be cat shit in there, so George would clean it up and flush it down the toilet. Then Richard would go in there and say, 'God, it's so weird. My cat hasn't taken a shit in forever.'

"George went along with that, and kept cleaning the box for a few days. Richard went to the vet to get some kind of thing to make the cat go to the bathroom. The poor cat. The cat's shitting, and George is still cleaning it up. And then finally George stood over the cat box and took a giant shit. And finally Richard goes in there and says, "Oh, my God! Kitty!

http://www.clooneynetwork.com/articles2/viewarticle.php?articleid=2036

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