In a wider mug, that wouldn't have happened.
In a wider mug, that wouldn't have happened.
into a road-ready superball.
(this is pulled from a comment I left elsewhere, replying to a post talking about miso eggs)
I bought these ice cream bars. http://www.magnumicecream.com/products/
But the screamingly funny reason I bought them is the tag line on the back of the box which says: "Magnum. the pleasure is all yours..."
They do come in gold wrappers and are sold in a 3-pack. :-P
None of the images on the box would work well as an icon, but I did buy it at the same store that flagged the Virgin [Organic] Tea as being newly available in Cherry. There wasn't a double entendre this time, just a hand-written sign saying $1 off. Personally I would have had the sign say, "Introducing Magnum gold wrapped ice cream bars. Double Magnum in caramel, dark, white, and classic gives you even bigger flavor."
And, having eaten one, I can tell you that it really is too big to get into my mouth and I had to nibble at it... and once the chocolate shell is cracked you can suck the caramel from between the chocolate shells until the ice cream starts to leak and drip from the top.
- I'm tired of doing this.
- I like being awesome.
- but it's too damned hard.
- You're SO right.
- It's good enough that I could actually see cross stitching it onto one of those fucking pillows that aren't good for anything but displaying cross stitching
This is talking about the knitting group where I teach. We don't have any real supplies and whenever I see other groups whining about not having fancy supplies, I want to tell them what we make do with. Innovation and imagination mean I can come up with a way to do almost anything, but it usually takes a lot of work. Because I not only have to do it once myself, be able to teach it, but I generally have to be able to teach it to people with whom I lack a common language. It's the Ginger Rogers did it all backward in high heels thing. It makes me exhausted thinking about keeping the group going.
Of course just this week at the butcher there was a woman buying a roast and she asked to have it cut so it would fit her pot. She and the butcher went back and forth to figure out where it should be cut because she knew how big her pot was but kept saying, "three inches" and holding up her hands to demonstrate.
I smiled at her and said, "You should have brought the pot so he could see it!"
Her response, "I know how big three inches is."
I nodded, then politely turned away and held that thought until I was in the car where I could laugh myself hoarse with the part I didn't say, "Honey, you can do better than that in a man. And you're likely to be very disappointed in a 3 inch potroast."
( cut because this is huge, but you probably want to see it once, just not for every reading page reload all day. )
ps. one is allowed to repost these, there is a linking tool provided by the author.
75 really funny t-shirt ideas.
pps. when I said no one was around on weekends, all ya'll were not supposed to keep quiet just to prove me right!
(There's no word from Lenovo on whether they're actually going to get rid of it on their laptops despite the announcement from June 28, 2009.)
This is the solution I use: http://michaeljaylissner.com/blog/
It's a registry hack, the text of the file is clearly visible, and I understand how to do registry merges. But the best part is because my computer does not think I am hitting capslock, it does not toggle the indicator light.
It's been a while and I still haven't trained myself to use that backspace key reliably, but at least I don't accidently start writing a Howler.
The funny thing though was when I was discussing something with a friend who then SHOUTED and later added, "I didn't even need catslock for that." She's got at least 15 cat names in active use (not sure how many cats that means she has, but maybe they seem myriad) so I suggested that she keep her door closed as that's more effective than catslock.
I know it was a typo. But I couldn't resist.
I've just finished second breakfast (that potato method I mentioned earlier this week) and there's still coffee left. This makes me relatively cheerful. Hell. I'm actually warm, even in the feet.
So let me share the funny.
(There's a lot of setup for this, and for that I apologize.)
There is a popular yarn store near me. Pretty much all knitting social activities are populated by people who can trace their knitting "lineage" back there. (I learned on craft store yarn from library books, and in the knitting world that makes me the Masai tribesman living in Norway trying to make a living modeling Norwegian national swim team gear. Add in my unfeminine mannerisms--- especially social conventions-- and I really do not belong, even though I now eschew craft store yarns.) My experience shopping at this store is that it's somewhere where there is no parking on the street and even half a block off the main street is too dangerous to walk alone... it's certainly not safe to park there because the whole block is rimed with broken glass. It hardly matters whether I liked the store itself, it's impossible for something like that to be popular just because of logistics, right? Well, apparently not.
When I went into the store, I was looking for my first sweater's worth of real yarn. I'm a fat woman, I need at least L shirts if I don't want people to be able to read bra labels through the fabric. For a sweater, I'm not going to want it tight. I was going to be buying at least $80 of yarn, and a similar size friend spent $300 on her yarn. But even though I was standing at the counter with my yarn to be purchased, the clerk looked right through me, picked up the phone and placed a personal telephone call. Then a really skinny woman came in and shouted loudly that she wanted to make a baby bib. So the clerk jumped up and ran over. I said, "Pardon me, I am ready to check out and I have been waiting." The clerk said nothing and spent several minutes actively helping baby hat woman and trying to convince her to make a sweater for herself too. (The baby hat would probably take more yarn.) I blinked at the deliberate snub, set my yarn on the counter, and walked out without the clerk saying anything. (I've never been back.)
Recently I was talking to a friend about sweater patterns and how they get longer as they get wider, and how that makes no sense. I said, "The only thing added length means is that you'd buy extra yarn that the yarn store clerks would snub you for needing. That's the only explanation I can think of as for why a 24"-bust woman would get more attention than someone twice her size [in a yarn store]."
It was suggested that I am invisible. (This is not actually a new idea. It happens universally in JCPenney. I have to bring someone with me or the cashiers cannot see me at all. And it's been like that for 20 years. I've actually been tempted to stand on the counter and jump up and down with my Visa card so all the other customers point at me. My SO and I stood at the counter about 5 years ago; I had an armload of things he wanted to buy, the woman asked him, "Sir, did you have a question?" He said no, he was ready. And she said, "Where are your selections?" It was astounding.)
I replied (to the invisible comment), "But the Invisible Man put on clothes in order to be seen. The way the yarn store people act, they think I'm going to become the Emperor and need "new clothes". But they've got the wrong kind of Emperor, I'm thinking more like Palpatine."
I took my black Porsche to the Portuguese place for a wax job. When I got it back, the paint was stripped off the fenders!
The guy there says, "What! You knew I was Brazilian."
I'm glad I didn't ask for detailing.
It followed this:
Q: How many Republicans can have sex with Argentine women in the back of a clown car?
A: I don't know, but usually the Appalachian trail is closed to vehicular traffic!
Q2: Isn't Appalachian Trail a kind of wax job for men?