Random Thoughts Thread

[Surfah]

I've been spending too much time on a bike that doesn't move. I am buying a road bike some day.

[Fiyero]

I wonder what Elisha Cuthbert wears to bed

[wuapinmon]

I wonder what Elisha Cuthbert wears to bed

Well she knows what you wear to bed, what with that wall over by your alarm clock festooned with ink jet printouts, held up by scotch tape, of your recent avatars.

[Fiyero]

A facebook post this morning:

why are their so many dishonest people . my wallet got stollen last night .im so pissed!!!!!

When asked how it happened, she replied:

left it on the top of truck and it fell into the road gone by the time i realized it was missing. !! $900.00 ! its all the back work of getting new ID and all the bull xxit that comes with it that sucks . damn people!

I had no idea some women carry $900 around in the purses that they casually sling atop the truck.

[RobinFinderson]

I have finally reached that point in life where I need to trim my nostril hairs (some would say I had reached that point long ago, so it may be more correct to say that I have finally reached that point in life where I am willing to trim my nostril hairs). I purchased a little stainless steel hand operated trimmer. It has a rotating cutting head that does the work with the twist of the base. It is a little piece of sculpture, and I find myself thinking about it far more than I care to admit (anywhere but CUF, of course). I'll reach up and touch my nostrils, hoping to find a stray hair and use that as an excuse to go groom.

[Clark Addison]

I have finally reached that point in life where I need to trim my nostril hairs (some would say I had reached that point long ago, so it may be more correct to say that I have finally reached that point in life where I am willing to trim my nostril hairs). I purchased a little stainless steel hand operated trimmer. It has a rotating cutting head that does the work with the twist of the base. It is a little piece of sculpture, and I find myself thinking about it far more than I care to admit (anywhere but CUF, of course). I'll reach up and touch my nostrils, hoping to find a stray hair and use that as an excuse to go groom.

Be a man and tug them out.

[RobinFinderson]

Be a man and tug them out.

I had been tugging for a long while, but it never seemed to get them all. I could tug tufts of hair every day for weeks, but they would still be there after all that. Somewhere in my nostrils lies the cure for male pattern baldness.

[wuapinmon]

The sensation that comes from taking a large kitchen knife to a thick stack of flour or corn tortillas to cut them into chips for frying is immensely satisfying.

[RobinFinderson]

The sensation that comes from taking a large kitchen knife to a thick stack of flour or corn tortillas to cut them into chips for frying is immensely satisfying.

That sounds like something a serial killer would say.

[YOhio]

That sounds like something a serial killer would say.

Wuap is definitely a cereal killer when he attacks corn tortillas.

[wuapinmon]

Wuap is definitely a cereal killer when he attacks corn tortillas.

A+!

[RobinFinderson]

I am in the habit of weighing my morning floppage. It happens inadvertently. The bathroom is small and the scale occupies a good chunk of the floor, so at some point during my routine I will step on and look down. Later, and ideally I will not have had my breakfast yet, I will tend to my excremental duties, and invariably will step up from the throne and step on to the scale, noting with significant satisfaction all of the weight I have lost in the previous few minutes. The difference, of course, is the weight of my shit. The precise weight barely registers, because I have a $5 spring scale from IKEA which lacks the precision to really get down to the ounce. I haven't told Faith, but this is the real reason I have raised the subject of getting a precise digital scale.

[PaloAltoCougar]

I am in the habit of weighing my morning floppage. It happens inadvertently. The bathroom is small and the scale occupies a good chunk of the floor, so at some point during my routine I will step on and look down. Later, and ideally I will not have had my breakfast yet, I will tend to my excremental duties, and invariably will step up from the throne and step on to the scale, noting with significant satisfaction all of the weight I have lost in the previous few minutes. The difference, of course, is the weight of my shit. The precise weight barely registers, because I have a $5 spring scale from IKEA which lacks the precision to really get down to the ounce. I haven't told Faith, but this is the real reason I have raised the subject of getting a precise digital scale.

I will neither confirm nor deny my interest in your thoughts here, as Mrs. PAC finds such things to be juvenile and crude. But we have a digital scale that's quite precise and weighs to the tenth of a pound, which, if one were so inclined, might provide some amusement, even amazement, if one were to follow your procedure. But one should be careful not to make any announcements touting one's output, as the reaction might not be as appreciative as one would expect.

[FN Phat]

I am in the habit of weighing my morning floppage. It happens inadvertently. The bathroom is small and the scale occupies a good chunk of the floor, so at some point during my routine I will step on and look down. Later, and ideally I will not have had my breakfast yet, I will tend to my excremental duties, and invariably will step up from the throne and step on to the scale, noting with significant satisfaction all of the weight I have lost in the previous few minutes. The difference, of course, is the weight of my shit. The precise weight barely registers, because I have a $5 spring scale from IKEA which lacks the precision to really get down to the ounce. I haven't told Faith, but this is the real reason I have raised the subject of getting a precise digital scale.

I find myself, on occasion, doing the same thing.

[wuapinmon]

Using my grandfather's tools to fix things is very satisfying. He is gone, but that corn-cob handle on his metal file, allows me to scrape the edge off the bushings so that they'll fit into the cylinder, and I can get the wheels back on our garden cart. The screws in his toolbox fit the holes in my son's ceiling fan so I can attach a deeper light cover that will allow for a CFB in his room. His red-handled needlenose pliers allow me to pull the tupperware cup out of the garbage disposal tonight. His hammers, chisels, and pliers, worn by time and his now-forgotten projects unify our souls into an eternal golden braid of future projects that I might accomplish with his help.