August 20th, 2005

Laughing Out Loud
  • kielle

Oh Doctor Strange...

*grandiloquent gesture* "Peter Parker! He who is known as Spider-Man!"

"Umm, I'd ask how you know that, but I can see a crystal ball on that table and I'm betting you don't use it to pick up spares at the Lanes-and-Laundry."

"Spider-Man, I seek your aid in a matter of great, nay, cosmic significance! With your help, the balance of the universe may be yet righted, and evil banished forth from the face of the earth!"

"Let me guess. Either you need something tied up, or it's at the top of something very tall and you can't fly up it. It's either that, or Satan's gone camera-shy."

"Mock me not, Spider-Man, for the very fate of the--"

"Please tell me it's not another giant fly. I told you, that whole totem thing was that space opera guy's idea..."

"But the ultimate mystic truths revealed to me by the Eye of Aga--"

"It's a giant fly."

"Err..."

"Well?"

"It could be described in that fashion..."

"You know, I'm missing a Friends rerun for this."

-- yunatwilight in (where else?) Scans_Daily (very cool post, too)
  • Current Mood
    amused amused
blue sky

(no subject)

Over on thedailyshow, the kids are discussing the upcoming daily calendar, which leads to a remark about odd results for the search "Jon Stewart" on Amazon -- apparently, they include Kierkegaard's Relations to Hegel Reconsidered (Modern European Philosophy). This leads to altoidsaddict's amusing comment:

If Jon Stewart did Kierkegaard, I would totally buy that.

As it is, I think it's the only way I could slog through Nietszche. I've tried three times, and still the only part of "Thus Spake Zarathustra" I know comes from
A Fish Called Wanda. This is a problem, because when discussing metaphysics, it's going to be an awkward conversation after you bring up that Aristotle was not Belgian.

Is anyone else having a vision of Jon Stewart yelling "ASSHOLE"? And, also, "APOLOGIZE"?
  • Current Music
    Cursive - The Recluse
[etc] former first lady.

darn those pesky LJers

babyofthegroup and I discuss our most recent fandom dealings and how it wasn't until now that we gave into the Internets-driven devolution of the English language, which leads to this:
babyofthegroup: I now have this mental picture of British English (personified, natch) walking into the relevant office and saying "I would like to file a case of child abuse -- my child, American English, is being torn asunder by those LiveJournal folks and their caps and abbreviations." And it will be true.

But KTHX is the best thing ever, the end.
Kthx is indeed the best, kthx.

A meta-meta-meta? Or something like that. ^^'

From the comments of the entry magentathompson posted yesterday here.

rattlebrat: Okay, I knew I was getting something wrong. But if Texas can divide into five states, what would Texas be? A country within a country? A state with states?

what_the_jack: Perhaps Texas would divide into a *further* five states. North Texas, South Texas, East Texas, West Texas and... Up Texas. Yeah, that last one? Floating above the others.

_redpanda_: And they could re-combine into Voltron!

trueflight: If you've got Up Texas, you also need Down Texas to balance it out, and it would be a shame to leave out Charm Texas and Strange Texas... ideally there should be six states, not five, so the Top and Bottom Texases can also be included.
  • Current Music
    Simple Plan - Perfect World
apollo

(no subject)

svilleficrecs explains about girls crying when they don't want to, here. The conversation was about Battlestar Galactica, but you don't need to follow the show; if you are curious, "Kara" is a female hotshot fighter pilot type, and she has a complicated relationship with "Lee," who is the fellow in this icon.

Collapse )

(no subject)

boblemon tells about her trip to the "lady doctor":

So not really much happening this week (besides school starting in a few days) but I did have a nice trip to the gynecologist. And that was... interesting, I suppose. Nothing like having your legs spread wide open without any pants on on the little examination table and having your doctor look up at you between your knees and ask a string of questions that starts with "So are you going to college this year? What are you majoring in? Are you moving out?"

QWP, given IRL. :-)
  • Current Mood
    amused amused
Palmer

Ribbit

cadhla has been having a very bad day. Very bad indeed.

- - -

Seriously, I am about as cranky as it is possible for a single human being to be without the addition of, I don't know, a plague of locusts or something. (Not a plague of frogs. I'd enjoy a plague of frogs. A plague of frogs would, in point of fact, be really kinda keen. Plague of frogs for one, please.)
  • Current Music
    Splashdown - Ironspy
hell!

enerplete is ill.

Cure for stomach sickliness:

New diet consisting of...

5 Parts Pulp (Different Class is recommended, but anything will work.)
2 Parts Strokes (This is it only. Room on Fire will only induce vomiting.)
1 Part Libertines (Anything will do here.)
3 Parts Transpotting (On DVD, plz.)

Mix well and serve chilled.
SciFi, amused, mischievous, silly
  • cmzero

It's weird to think of Wil Wheaton (http://www.livejournal.com/users/wilwheaton/) as a dad

But he is, and getting to experience the latest stage of this life. The whole entry is worth a read, but here's the introduction...

So this weird thing happened two or three weeks ago: in the middle of the night, some aliens or MIBs or something snuck into my house while we were asleep, and they replaced my sweet, reasonable children with Teenagers.

Overnight, I went from pretty cool to really annoying, and questions that were usually answered with phrases like, "Okay," or "I'll do it in just a minute," or "Yes," were suddenly met with "Whatever." or "GOD!" or my personal favorite, stony silence with the rolling eyes and exasperated sigh.

It's so weird, man. And the thing is, my doors were all locked, and my windows were all closed . . . so my theory is that the Aliens or MIBs or whatever don't actually enter the house. Instead, they use some sort of parabolic mirror to direct a tractor beam through the walls, which we can't see or hear, and they pull the old switcheroo from orbit. I have no idea what they do with the sweet, reasonable pre-teens they take away, though. The current operating theory is that they need their youthful exuberance for fuel or something, but it's just a theory.


[Edit: Hmm, apparently I went over the subject line character limit by three letters. *changes his attempt at "father" to "dad"* *lets you all do the math*]
ecchi

(no subject)

first post here, whee!

this comes from a "ninjas vs. pirates" debate that came up in a post in my friends only journal. I found it amusing, especially Coura's little floatie-ninjas > pirates doodle XD

eclipsegryph:
Talk Like A Pirate Day is coming up soon... And then your precious ninjas will have nowhere to hide... :p

couragose:
Ninjas need no hiding place.

Ninjas will simply flip out and kill everyone who dares to join A and R together on that day.

That's why they're ninjas! :D

eclipsegryph:
A challenge has been issued! The only flipping ninjas shall be doing will be off of the pirate's planks and into the briny depths of Davey Jones' locker!

couragose:
Oh, pirates talk big, but their will is weak! Ninjas need only their shadows and sharp throwing things to bring down their foes!

... And our stabby swords of doom beat your stabby swords of doom. No question.

eclipsegryph:
Our will may be weak, but our rum is not! 'Tis called 'liquid courage' for a reason, ye know.

And who needs stabby swords of doom when we have CANNONS! Ah ha, you didn't think about that, did you, little ninja? We'll be out here floating around on the water, out of reach of aquaphobe ninjas, and levelling you all from afar!

See?
(image cut)

That be me steering the great pirate ship, the barque EAGLE!.

Okay, so it wasn't a pirate ship, she's in the US Coast Guard.

She does have 24 sails and three masts though!

But no cannon, alas.

couragose:
Ooooooh, nice ship.

Ninjas are high-tech and new age! We've mastered technology where you infantile pirates wallow in drunkeness!

...

We have floaties.

eclipsegryph:
Aroo? Dare I ask what a "floatie" is, aside from a deceased ninja floating on his back in the water thanks to a successful pirate attack?

couragose:
This would be a floatie, in demonstration here.

eclipsegryph:
Ack! Blasphemy!!!!! ...My patch is on my RIGHT eye!

At least I can find solace in the knowledge that there is no such thing as a "Speak Like A (Silly) Ninja Day"! So there!
  • Current Mood
    amused amused
astronomy, earth for sale, for sale

Neil Gaiman strikes again



officialgaiman reminds us that Neil is a brilliant writer:


So I came home to an astonishingly empty house, picked an ear of corn from the garden, cooked and ate it, and, faced with an infinite number of things I could possibly do in a house on my own, I decided I might as well carry on working on an extremely overdue short story. Which, I decided, my pen being empty, I would write in brown ink. This plan stalled immediately, as I was unable to find a bottle of brown ink. Not a problem: I simply decided finally to utilise the as yet untouched Private Reserve Ink Mixing Kit I was given for my birthday last year to create a shade of brown that would be glorious and lovely and the perfect colour to write a short story in. How hard can it be to make brown? I thought, It's just red and green, and I have lots of different reds and lots of different greens, so I'll just put a bit of each in, and I'll be away, which I did, and before long I had managed to transform lots of pretty ink colours into an entire bottle of ink the colour of toxic sludge: an unhealthy-looking liquid the exact shade and texture of industrial run-off after a heavy rain. It didn't look like anything you'd want to use to write a short story with, unless it was a very strange story about things with too many legs writhing up out of the old dump, and this story wasn't meant to be one of those.

Luckily, somewhere in all the messing around with ink bottles, I'd found an overlooked bottle of brown ink, so I filled my pen with that, and now I shall go and write, leaving the bottle of Toxic Sludge Ink to squat malevolently alone on the desk in the office, waiting patiently and inevitably for its time to come.