Ugh. I was supposed to run 2 miles today, a big step up from my previous distance, but I stupidly didn't drink much water today and after about 1.75 miles I almost doubled over from sudden, horrible stomach cramps.
Not sure if it's exactly a fail, but my spousal overunit is going to need to use my laptop (the only Windows machine we have in our house) to test some web stuff she's going to have to work on over this weekend. This leaves me with the Anime Boston panels laptop, which is an older machine, to run all AB panels stuff with this weekend. It should work, but I'm a bit paranoid...
The fact that I am (rather rapidly, for a person of my age) losing my hair is now impossible to ignore. My part is becoming wildly thin at my hairline. This is a problem for me, because my hair is really long, really curly, and one of my defining features.
My choices in the not-too-distant future are becoming either "skullet" or "bald." I might just bite the bullet and have my barber put it all to the blade when I get home in June. Or, start wearing a hat again (Driving cap? Trillby? Watch cap? Who could say?) and try to delay the inevitable.
If I lost more weight, maybe I could pull it off with the assistance of a hat. So maybe there's one reason to shave my head.
Also, I don't really know what my scalp looks like. I had horrific chickenpox four years back. It's possible that it's covered in pockmarks and scars. I might consider cutting my hair down to like, an inch and a half and seeing how visible the thinning is. But, if any sort of comb-over (*shudder*) is even remotely necessary to obscure my part, then it all goes.
The hair that falls out brings one hundred hairs down!
Playing Dark Carnival in L4D2, got bored so I picked up Gnome Chompski, and got him all the way through the game to the finale. Died within jumping distance of the helicopter, no-one else picked it up.
The first marines in our "permanent military presence" in Australia were deployed on Wednesday. Because of this, I compel all of you to not vote for Obama; until the Republicans offer a more viable candidate, I would recommend voting Batman.
Question - Why? We're pretty chill about it, it dumps money into our economy, and we can only benefit from training together locally. I mean, I appreciate the thought, but seriously, we're cool, and we can speak for ourselves, here. And if we were not happy with you doing it, then you wouldn't be here.
To stop Chinese expansion. Let's all pray this doesn't start another land war in Asia.
Oh, of course! We all know what happened the last time, so that would be a rookie mistake, and nobody wants to see that.
(I figure you know what I meant, but just to be clear - I mean, why is this what would tip you over the edge of changing who you vote for. I mean, like I said, we don't mind, both nations benefit, and to add to it, it's hardly the first time you've sent a large force here to train, there's been four Talisman Sabre exercises so far, and likely to be more in the future.)
Well, thank you Churba for utterly annihilating my faith in the human race...
My friend, you haven't even begun to lose faith, until you've seen a woman ejected from a titanic exhibit for screaming at the staff and trying to push over displays(thankfully, not artifact displays, only replicas) because the titanic exhibition "Didn't mention Jack or Rose at all."
Really, Lady? What about Ben Guggenheim, Who after he put his mistress and her maid in a lifeboat, dressed up in his evening wear("We've dressed up in our best and are prepared to go down like gentlemen"), then proceeded to the grand staircase to play cards, sip brandy and smoke cigars with his secretary, with his last recorded words being "Tell my wife, if it should happen that my secretary and I both go down, tell her I played the game out straight to the end. No woman shall be left aboard this ship because Ben Guggenheim was a coward."
Or the famous Wallace Hartley and his band, Roger Bricoux, Theodore Brailey, John Woodward, John Clarke, John Hume, Percy Taylor and Georges Krins, who played till the end? Or Thomas Andrews, who ventured below into the staterooms to search for people, sending people to the deck, and who like many others refused a place in a lifeboat so that others might survive? Or Noël Leslie, countess of Rothes, who helped people out on her lifeboat, comforted steerage passengers and even refused to sleep, taking the tiller at first, and then taking an oar, rowing throughout the night. Or Willie Murdoch, who died trying to free collapsible A, rather than how it was portrayed in the movie, as a suicide after pointlessly killing a man out of panic. Or Jacob John Astor, richest man on the ship, who a witness reported was putting(in some cases, carrying the incapacitated or shoving the indecisive) women and children into lifeboats, and was last seen calmly having a smoke on deck as the ship sank, chatting with a novelist.
No, instead you focus on some fictional penniless artist from Wisconsin, and the rich, suicidal girl he had a holiday fling with, the same woman who ended up killing him. Not to mention, oh yeah, the guy has been looking for this jewel his entire career, AND YOU JUST TOSS IT IN THE FUCKING SEA.
And there was plenty of room on that fucking door. You just have a great history of tossing things you like into the ocean to be lost forever, don't you, lady?
Welcome to the world of history Churba I feel your pain on so many levels. I have seen people argue that Titanic was based to true events and that Jack and Rose were real. Its days like that when I sit down with a fine port.
Jack and Rose aren't worth being real. White Death is worth being real. Dorchester Hights being built over night is worth being real. Andrew Jackson's parrot being kicked out of his funeral is worth being real. Do you know why? They all were. I'm sick of this shit. I'm gonna go hide until people start being less idiot. If anyone needs me, I'm in the library. No one will look for me there.
Jack and Rose aren't worth being real. White Death is worth real. Dorchester Hights being built over night is worth being real. Andrew Jackson's parrot being kicked out of his funeral is worth being real. Do you know why? They all were. I'm sick of this shit. I'm gonna go hide until people start being less idiot. If anyone needs me, I'm in the library. No one will look for me there.
Comments
My choices in the not-too-distant future are becoming either "skullet" or "bald." I might just bite the bullet and have my barber put it all to the blade when I get home in June. Or, start wearing a hat again (Driving cap? Trillby? Watch cap? Who could say?) and try to delay the inevitable.
Imma leave this here, WuB.
Also, I don't really know what my scalp looks like. I had horrific chickenpox four years back. It's possible that it's covered in pockmarks and scars. I might consider cutting my hair down to like, an inch and a half and seeing how visible the thinning is. But, if any sort of comb-over (*shudder*) is even remotely necessary to obscure my part, then it all goes.
The hair that falls out brings one hundred hairs down!
Died within jumping distance of the helicopter, no-one else picked it up.
(I figure you know what I meant, but just to be clear - I mean, why is this what would tip you over the edge of changing who you vote for. I mean, like I said, we don't mind, both nations benefit, and to add to it, it's hardly the first time you've sent a large force here to train, there's been four Talisman Sabre exercises so far, and likely to be more in the future.)
Really, Lady? What about Ben Guggenheim, Who after he put his mistress and her maid in a lifeboat, dressed up in his evening wear("We've dressed up in our best and are prepared to go down like gentlemen"), then proceeded to the grand staircase to play cards, sip brandy and smoke cigars with his secretary, with his last recorded words being "Tell my wife, if it should happen that my secretary and I both go down, tell her I played the game out straight to the end. No woman shall be left aboard this ship because Ben Guggenheim was a coward."
Or the famous Wallace Hartley and his band, Roger Bricoux, Theodore Brailey, John Woodward, John Clarke, John Hume, Percy Taylor and Georges Krins, who played till the end? Or Thomas Andrews, who ventured below into the staterooms to search for people, sending people to the deck, and who like many others refused a place in a lifeboat so that others might survive? Or Noël Leslie, countess of Rothes, who helped people out on her lifeboat, comforted steerage passengers and even refused to sleep, taking the tiller at first, and then taking an oar, rowing throughout the night. Or Willie Murdoch, who died trying to free collapsible A, rather than how it was portrayed in the movie, as a suicide after pointlessly killing a man out of panic. Or Jacob John Astor, richest man on the ship, who a witness reported was putting(in some cases, carrying the incapacitated or shoving the indecisive) women and children into lifeboats, and was last seen calmly having a smoke on deck as the ship sank, chatting with a novelist.
No, instead you focus on some fictional penniless artist from Wisconsin, and the rich, suicidal girl he had a holiday fling with, the same woman who ended up killing him. Not to mention, oh yeah, the guy has been looking for this jewel his entire career, AND YOU JUST TOSS IT IN THE FUCKING SEA.
And there was plenty of room on that fucking door. You just have a great history of tossing things you like into the ocean to be lost forever, don't you, lady?