How do they make sure that the people maintaining the server are in no chance of being raptured? Is this an opportunity for atheist homosexual masturbators?
Baseball on the radio, Braves v Marlins:
Pete Van Wieren: Tomorrow night is super kids' night.
Skip Caray: (Humming in the background between plays) Da da da da da da da da Batman!
Pete: It's also a singles night. For $25, you can sit in a special singles area. That includes two drinks.
Batman and Robin are going to parachute into the stadium. Superman was going to be here, but he said, "Superman don't need no stinking parachute."
Skip: Is Batman single?
Pete: Yeah, he could stop by the singles area.
Skip: The Invisible Man is going to be there, but you'll never know. You'd better watch out in the singles section, though.
Pete: If you see a drink floating by, you'll know.
Skip: That used to happen to me all the time.
For some reason, it just occurred to me that 'Archaeopteryx Coelacanth' would be a cool name... for a band, for an online persona, or even a real name if you want to avoid jury duty....
Man, we're under a tornado watch and a severe thunderstorm watch. Looks like it has reached DC just now: [link]
How do they make sure that the people maintaining the server are in no chance of being raptured?
They're sysadmins. Is it even a question?
Thoughts of death make us eat more cookies
(Sadly, the rest of the article is less amusing than the headline. But now I want a cookie.)
Bartleby is under my chair. The thunder is fierce and the rain is coming down in sheets.
Good thing I just turned on the air conditioner for the first time this year. I was getting weary of wiping up the rain of recent storms from everything in front of the windows.
So we've had a giant email kerfuffle over our Little League playoffs.
Our team, the Cubs, finished first so we're the top seed. We get a bye in the first round and were scheduled to play our first game tonight at 5:30.
We have a 12 player team and two kids are away this week on a school field trip, one is hurt and one has a school concert that he can't miss without it affecting his grade.
That leaves 8 kids and a forfeit. So we ask the opposing team for some rescheduling; possibly Thursday, possibly Friday or even an early start to today's game (so our musician could play then go to his concert).
This goes around and around until the opposing team's manager blows up and calls us assholes and morons. They can make no accomodation (after trying to reschedule) so the game is going to be at the regularly scheduled time on it's originally scheduled day. Our hurt player is going to suit up and just do what he can do.
Funny part? Now it looks like the opposing team won't be able to get their nine players to the field on time for today's game.
The game will probably still go on but be delayed.
Which sucks for us because our musician will have to leave early and he's one of our best players.
But the reason one of their players is going to be late is because they tried to rejigger their schedule to accomodate us.
It's just weird that there's been all this sturm and drang and the end result is: game played as scheduled.
Or possibly - they have to forfeit because of our nefarious plan.
And the cookie manufacturers rejoice!
Chris Hitchens wishes waiters would stop refilling his wine glass.
The vile practice of butting in and pouring wine without being asked is the very height of the second kind of bad manners. Not only is it a breathtaking act of rudeness in itself, but it conveys a none-too-subtle and mercenary message: Hurry up and order another bottle. Indeed, so dulled have we become to the shame and disgrace of all this that I have actually seen waiters, having broken into the private conversation and emptied the flagon, ask insolently whether they should now bring another one. Again, imagine this same tactic being applied to the food.
(He's not a lush, he's just a victim of Big Sommelier! Why oh why will the all-powerful restaurant server lobby not let him beeeeeeeeeee?)