Why Is There

Type "why is there" in the search box on the Google home page and see what auto-populates.  Does it look something like this?

Next question: what the heck?

Hot Playground

Hot Playground


Awesome comment-leaver Sarah brought something to my attention yesterday that usually would never cross my mind: how hot it is in December. . . in Texas.  Our high temperature yesterday was 79 degrees, just a week shy of the first day of winter.  But I might not have noticed because 79 is a cool breeze compared to the 107 we hit over the summer this year.  Blah!!!  (Thanks for the cruel reminder of how season-less Texas can be...)

Oddly enough, earlier this year, we had over a foot of snow!  (Back in January, in case you're wondering.)  It was, without a doubt, the most snow I have ever seen in Texas.  In remembrance, here is a photo of the 6 foot snowman we made... It was as tall as me!!!

And this is a picture of a typical Texas playground, covered in snow:

:-P

Black Friday

Black Friday


I like shopping on Black Friday.  I enjoy the crowds and watching some people make fools of themselves.  The sales are good.  It's all around a fun experience for me.  Well, today was very different.

Nowhere that I had to go was completely packed or overrun by ravaging sale-seekers.  I went to Kohl's, Best Buy, and Wally World and I didn't have trouble finding parking once.  I never waited in any obscenely long line. And I didn't not find what I was looking for.  (Although I did forget something.  Oh well.)  Then I looked at my watch.  It was 9:00AM when I got to the first store, Kohl's.  Well no wonder it wasn't packed.  The really big crowds had already come and gone because Kohly's opened at 3AM this morning!  Three freaking AM!  That's only . . . like . . . three hours after yesterday!  Black Friday is literally becoming the whole day.  (Actually, some stores open at 10 the night before.  I guess that would be like Black-Thursday-Night, or Black-Black-Friday-Eve.)

Bah!  I think I liked it better when stores opened at normal times and crazy people just lined up early to get in before all of the other crazy people to get their Tickle-Me-Elmo before the other crazy guy with a gun shows up.

...

On another note, happy belated Thanksgiving!

AND

I was dog-sick two days before Thanksgiving, which explains why there was no post Wednesday.  (And no, it wasn't eggnog that made me sick.)

AND

Now I'm off to read all of y'all's blogs that I'm a little behind on.  :)

Google Blindly

Google Blindly


A little while back, Google started guessing what you're looking for for you.  What I mean is, if you start typing something into their search box, suddenly the top searches form a drop down box.  That way, if you are searching for one of the same things everyone else is, you can just select it from the list.  (I suppose it saves you a couple seconds worth of typing the remainder of your query.  I mean, I'm busy, but not that busy.)  Sometimes, I set out to search for one thing and then get sidetracked to something else Google suggested.  And sometimes, it can be pretty entertaining.

If you start typing "can blind people see," Google flashes this list:

The first suggestion is legit.  And the last three are decent, too.  But the second, "Can blind people see the taste of cinnamon toast crunch," is just funny.

This list is essentially based on numbers.  In this example, for all of the people who started typing "can blind people see," these five phrases completed the string as the top five searches.  Apparently, somewhere between wondering whether blind people see dreams and whether blind people see their dreams, the great Google public wants to know if the seeing-impaired can see the taste of cinnamon toast crunch.  I couldn't help but laugh.  (Then, I seriously wondered whether this was a joke like the Google/Chuck Norris thing.  I honestly don't think so.)

Either General Mills is funding some twisted advertising campaign in cahoots with Google or we searchers are really this idiotic.  Unfortunately, I think it's the latter.

Pandora Power

Pandora Power

Usually, I have my iPod running in the background at work.  More specifically, I listen to it at my work bench.  (You see, I have a desk, where I spend about 30% of my time, and I have another desk (work bench) where I spend the rest of my time.)  Anyway, when I’m at my 30% desk, I tune into Pandora radio.  It is great!  Let me tell you why I have one more reason to love Pandora. 

I recently discovered the genre stations that Pandora has set up.  I found the pop radio genre, which is nice, because I do like some of the songs they play on pop radio.  Well, in case you don’t know, Pandora let’s you “thumb down” songs you don’t like and they will never play again on that station.  It’s a cool way to effectively “customize” what it plays for you.  (I say “customize” because you still have to let Pandora “feed” you songs and let you judge them yourself.)  (I say “feed” because if you use the “free” version of Pandora, you can only skip so many songs before you just have to listen to them all.)  (I just quoted “free” for the heck of it back there.)

This was probably one of the most rewarding, soul-fulfilling, probably-would-have-made-my-bucket-list-if-I-had-one-already “thumbs down” I’ve gotten to dish out in a long time:

Notice the check-marked thumb down in the bottom left corner and the larger, subtle, yet all-powerful thumbs down in the upper right corner. 

Sweet, sweet victory!

Do I really have to explain why this made my day?  I think not.  (Oh, and the only thing better than thumbs-downing this song?  Thumbs-downing the second one that came along.)  No Beiber fever here!

Word Verification #2

Word Verification #2

Last week, I decided to start taking screen shots of amusing captchas (at least, amusing to me) and defining them in my own words.  Here is the second in the series.

Arlatch:

-adjective

1.  The opposite of their latch

-noun

2.  A sliding-bar fastening device for a gate or door, especially one worthy of a pirate 

Monday 8/23

Joyful Plane


Do you think the people who designed this plane had a sense of humor?

I do.

Thursday 8/19

Heat Wave

It has been hot lately.  And not just any kind of hot.  It has been hot-so-many-days-in-a-row-that-it-might-as-well-just-stay-hot-a-couple-more-days-so-we-can-at-least-set-a-record-or-something hot.  Well, that record is going to have to wait until another year. We had an 18-day streak of 100 degree or more highs.  The official high temperature in DFW yesterday was a measly 96 degrees.  (I know, bummer, right?)  The local meteorologist jokingly assured us, however, that we’ll be right back up there in the triple digits for another seven days or so.  Personally, I don’t think it’s much of a joke.  The record, by the way, was 40 days in a row back in 1980.

So how do you entertain yourself when the heat is so blistering?  Even swimming doesn’t sound very appealing because when it’s this hot, the water becomes warm.  (No thanks.  If I want to take a bath in my swim trunks, I’ll just do it at home.  It’s also less crowded.)  You could stay inside all day and watch crime show marathons.  You could even put on your jogging shorts and running shoes so that it feels more like a marathon. 

Or . . .

Since there’s an almost-national egg recall right now, there is one thing you could do.

Around four in the afternoon, you could run out and cook up some eggs on the sidewalk.  You don’t even need a pan!  Just mist the walkway in some non-stick cooking spray and get crackin’!  I wouldn’t recommend eating them, though.  I’m about 86% sure this doesn’t cook the salmonella out.

 Even though the eggs in your fridge probably don’t have salmonella, I still wouldn’t recommend eating this sidewalk experiment.

Thursday 6/3

Clobberin’ Time!

I have a confession: 

When I’m driving down the street, I like to hit stray trash with my car. 

Yep.  There’s some sort of instinctual rush from clobbering coke cans and smashing slurpie cups!  Then after a direct hit, you can look into the rearview and say to yourself, “yeah, I showed that can a thing or two” as it ferociously tumbles away.  Well, as you probably know, there are plenty of worthy targets blowing around our streets, but there are definitely some no-no’s as well.  Here’s a brief list:

Cans:  Anything you smash on your head in times of debauchery is a candidate for a highway run-down.  Cans are meant to be flattened.  So when you obliterate one with your car, think of yourself as doing a favor for the recycling plant it might someday end up at. 

Styrofoam:  Cups or coolers, it doesn’t matter.  Styrofoam practically explodes when pounded at 70 mph!  I agree that smashing one big piece of garbage that doesn’t biodegrade into a million tiny pieces of garbage that don’t biodegrade is probably not good for the environment.  It’s ok, though, our tax dollars will come around and pick all those pieces up eventually.

Bottles:  20oz bottles are the best!  They practically roll right under your wheels!  They want to be demolished.  Well, I say, do it.  Race on over the next one that crosses you and POW!!!  KABLOOEY!!!  If you’re lucky, you’ll hit it with both wheels.  Then you can watch it soooooar into the median or off to the side of the road.  The only unfortunate thing about bottles is that there aren’t enough of them rolling around out there to hit.

Here is another brief list of things to definitely avoid:

People, live animals, dead animals, boards with protruding nails (or screws), dolls (because that’s just sad), glass bottles, diapers, plastic grocery bags, ladders, and full garbage bags.

To the best of my knowledge, you can’t get a ticket for removing objects from the freeway.  So until then, make driving fun.  Hit stuff!

By: S. Cole Garrett 

Tuesday 3/30

Water Tower

Whenever you’re on a mid-west road trip, there’s one sure fire way to know you reach a new town.  No matter how big or small the towns, they almost all have water towers.  Some towers are massive feats of engineering, rising aplomb where civilization thirsts.  Others seem like little more than a few gallons perched on sticks in the middle of nowhere.  Many of them are adorned with local high school mascots.  One tower in nearby me even hails the ‘fighting farmers.’  (No joke, that’s really a high school mascot.)  I’m fairly certain we all know what a water tower is, but what are they?  What do they do?

I bet some of you are asking, “who cares?”  Well, someone asked me and I happened to have the answer for them.  I realized I would be happy if I could save at least one more person the embarrassment of having to ask the question.  The answer is: fish.  They are built to house endangered marine wildlife.

…very endangered marine wildlife.

Just kidding.  The obvious answer is that they hold water.  This is true, but it isn’t the main purpose of water towers.  It seems like there wouldn’t be enough water in one tower to shower a whole town every day (even the towns where not everyone takes a shower every day . . . ew).  The main reason towns have towers is to create water pressure.

Think about it.  When your electricity goes out, the water still runs, right?  Sure it does.  That’s because somewhere, that water is being ‘pushed’ through the pipes.  It’s kind of like your toilet.  The water in the tank is held at a level above the bowl so that when you pull the lever, the water falls down (and swirls, but that’s a whole other discussion).  Keyword: gravity.  Water towers hold enormous amounts of water to provide what’s called hydrostatic pressure to push water through pipes, using gravity. 

So why are they raised?  For residential prowess and pride?  No.  (That would be too easy to make fun of!)  It’s more physics than is worth explaining, but it’s the same concept as siphoning.  The water source (the water tower) works better if it is at a higher elevation than the destination (all of the plumbing in your house).

Now, if someone asks you why we have water towers, you have two options.  You could tell them what you now know, that they are for water pressure.  Or you could intentionally lead them astray down the ignorance-paved path.  Tell them it’s a cheaper way for tiny towns to advertise than billboards and then laugh when they tell the next sucker!

By: S. Cole Garrett

Monday

Ham

When you want to insult or compliment someone, there are of course several ways to do it.  You can use actual descriptive words (which are boring).  For example, ugly, stupid, gorgeous, or smart.  Luckily, we have extrapolations of some words so that we have more to work with, like butt-ugly, and drop-dead gorgeous.  When that’s not enough, we can use action type descriptions to more emphatically illustrate someone in a positive or negative light.  You could call someone a bottom-feeder or heaven-sent.  Well, when that creativity runs dry, you can’t go wrong with a good old animal metaphor.  One of the most versatile of earth-dwellers is an adorable, pink ungulate called the pig.

The pig (and pig products) can be used to describe someone in so many ways!  When someone is dastardly, evil, or steals something, you might say, “You dirty swine!!”  It’s hard to call someone a swine and say it without squinting your eyes at them.  It comes from deep down and relieves a lot of tension.  It’s a good insult.  It’s also very unmistakable.  If one were to be accused a swine, they know exactly why, too!  (It’s also surprisingly inoffensive.  Have you ever seen anyone taken aback by such slander?  I don’t think so.)

Have you ever heard someone called a ham?  If somebody is the life of the party or tells jokes often, you might say, “Oh, you’re such a ham!”  I’m not exactly sure where this saying comes from, but I’m fairly certain it’s complimentary.  Perhaps one who can make others laugh so hard they snort is to be called a ham.  Pigs are innately social creatures, but I’ve never known one to be funny.  Then again, I’ve never really known one, either.

Here’s another scenario.  A man and his girlfriend/wife/whatever are out eating at a restaurant.  The smoking hot waitress takes their order and strolls away, and without realizing it, the man’s eyes are glued to her glutes.  His date catches him red-handed (or red-eyed, I guess) and says, “You pig!”  (There may be an accompanying face-slap.)  A well-deserved insult, indeed!  But are pigs really that adulterous?  Only farmer Joe knows.  Good-sounding insult, bad metaphor.

The poor pig (and pig products) can be used to describe many other qualities as well: sloppiness, over-eating, money-earning, dishonesty, etc.  Use your imagination.  So I’d like to extend a warm ‘thank you’ to you, pig, for providing this end of the food chain with a wealth of insults and compliments when we need you the most!

By: S. Cole Garrett

Friday

On the Bubble

I was walking down the toy aisle the other day looking for an inflatable beach ball for my son, and I saw something else I knew he would certainly enjoy: bubbles.  Bubbles are endless fun and they’re super easy to make.  As long as you have an arm, a hand, and at lease one opposable digit to grab the bubble stick and wave it in the air, you can make bubbles!  I picked one up and suggested it for the kids.  I was rejected immediately being told the only thing bubbles are good for is spilling.  Come to think of it, I don’t know that I’ve ever made it to the bottom of one of those bottles.

Want to ruin a bubble party quickly?  Kick over the bottle of bubbles.  It begs the question.  Why aren’t they spill-proof?  Well some of them are, but they are hardly as hap-happy to use.  Part of the beauty of blowing bubbles is their simple nature.  Dunk, wave.  Dunk, blow.  Dunk, anything.  Basically, dip the ringed stick in the soapy water and somehow get air to pass through the hole.  The spill-proof containers get in the way of this uncomplicated process and consumers buy the good old “even-though-it’s-going-to-spill-it’s-easier” bottle anyway.

Another solution to the bubble bottle toppling travesty is bubble-making toys.  It seems like a great idea because you can pour the liquid into a toy and screw on the top and the toys do all the work.  No spilling!  The novelty of bubble-blowing is lost, though.  When you reminisce someday about your youthful pastimes, you probably won’t think about how fun it was to shoot bubbles out of an AK-47-looking bubble gun or how you used your air-powered 10,000 bubbles-per-minute mega blower!  No, you remember the good, old-fashioned using-your-lungs and stick that always seemed to fall into the bottle.

(It’s kind of funny how the stick has a ring on both ends so that you can fish it out of the bottle when you drop it in.  The people who made these had to have realized this because they put the ring on both ends.  Why didn’t they just make the stick longer and strap it to the side of the bottle or something instead of putting it inside from the start?).

(And are they ever going to change the colors of the bottles?  I wasn’t alive, but I think they’ve been the same since the seventies!)

Good thing regular bubbles are cheap, because until they make a spill-proof (but not fun-intrusive), longer-sticked (but not lose-able), memory-friendly version, we’re stuck with the ever accident-prone bubble bottles of old. 

By: S. Cole Garrett

3/18/10

Thursday

Anywhere?

Where did all the phosphorus sesquisulfide go?  By phosphorus sesquisulfide, I mean strike anywhere matches.  I haven’t seen them in years and in most states, they’re illegal to sell.  That’s because they have been deemed as “dangerous goods” by the government.  Well, leave it to them to nanny us out of some of the most convenient innovations in our lifetimes.  Oh, strike anywhere matches, how I miss thee!

The convenience of strike anywhere matches is in the name.  They could be lit with enough friction on just about everything.  Here’s a list of some of the most creative ways my friends, brothers, and I figured out how to light them in our youth:

-         On zippers, front teeth, other strike anywhere matches, a finger nail, toys, sidewalks, shoes, watches, the edges of school books, bricks, trees, bicycle tires, the telephone (cell phones weren’t widely-owned yet), cereal boxes, bowling balls, forks, stale bread, the metal on a pencil, computer speakers, and (are you sitting down for this one?) even ice cubes. 

Were we pyromaniacs?  I don’t think so.  I’d rather our creative, inclination to ignite be called something along the lines of . . . how should we say . . . thinking outside the box.  In retrospect, I can’t say we were smart about everything we did with strike anywhere matches. 

We had a particularly entertaining game we played called “burn the forest.”  Sounds safe, right?  Anyway, it goes like this.  Two players each gather a pile of dead leaves and put it in front of them.  They set up facing each other about ten to twenty feet apart from each other (depending on how skilled they are).  Each player has their own regular-sized, 250-count box of strike anywhere matches.   The concept is simple: burn the other player’s pile of leaves first.  To do this, the match box (or anything rough, for that matter) is turned on its side so that the striking side is face up.  A match is stood up vertically with one finger holding it and with the head of the match to the box.  With the other hand, the player takes aim at the opposing “forest” and flicks the match at the base.  The friction lights the match and it fully ignites by the time it reaches the other player’s leaves.  The players take turns until one pile burns down. 

There are plenty of other irresponsible ways we found to waste perfectly good strike anywhere matches.  If something was flammable, knew about it.  Camping with open flame might as well have been called camping with open fun.  In all seriousness, however, I don’t condone playing with fire. . . unless maybe it’s controlled . . . and supervised . . . and involves strike anywhere matches.

By: S. Cole Garrett

3/17/10