Reposting things, especially from Wired, is not something I’m inclined to do but the commentary following this article so clearly illustrates the emerging idiocracy that I couldn’t resist. I am always astonished when someone apparently bright enough to type can believe in superstition. I shouldn’t be, I suppose…
What is it about scientific method that escapes people?
Then again, maybe this avid readership is why I let my subscription lapse after the first year…
The room patch panel at the Holiday Inn on King in Toronto is the best I’ve encountered in a hotel. Watch you tube on the room’s large LCD TV… Play your iPod through the sound system. Free broadband. All hotels should do this.
As I’m spending more time in Guelph lately than expected, it has been a very good thing to discover the Red Brick Cafe. They have good food items and excellent coffee. No overheated milk and they know the difference between a cappuccino and a latte. With the favorable (to the US) exchange rate, it is a great deal too.
576 Queen St. W. in Toronto (416) 504-9736 at Bathurst.
Good shwarma. I got dinner there are 1:30am on Tuesday. Open late and very satisfying.
Or why I hate bar phones.
Ass Dialing is when you have a bar phone in your pocket, bend over, and accidentally dial either the last call or something out of your phone book.
My two best ass dialing stories:
1) I had an old qualcomm spoonphone – the early bar phone with the round end with the speaker in it. Very flat and strong. I carried it in my back pocket. I had lunch with this bodybuilder woman I flirted with and she was sitting with her panties exposed. They became a topic of conversation… a conversation my then girlfriend overhead after I ass dialed her. I wasn’t even doing anything with the woman, just flirting, but boy was that embarrassing.
2) Carolyn’s best high school friend is a gay playwright. He wrote most of the plays she did for a long time, and loves to blow straight guys. Before he moved next to the Marine base and had an infinite supply of buff “straight” guys looking for a BJ he had to search for straight guys to blow at porn theaters. One time Carolyn went to pick him up at some porn theater after he was done and ass dialed me. It’s her phone number on the caller ID but all I hear is uh uh uh oh yes oh yesss uh uh uh.
Certainly the best ass-dial I’ve ever gotten. I hate it when someone ass dials me over and over. They’re running through an airport and every time they shift their bag they ass dial again. Another friend kept ass dialing 911.
Me, I don’t ass dial any more. I stick to flip phones.
This past weekend there was a Comics and Games convention in Lucca. The plazas had been filled with giant tents, all packed to bursting with eager, sweaty young people with an unnatural fascination for fantasy. Some were amusing, and many people had clearly devoted a lot of their lives to their costumes, but in the end it seemed the biggest celebrity was the police Lambroghini.
It was a fun few hours walking around the tents and looking at the comics, but the best part was taking the train to Lucca from Borgo. It is only 20 minutes each way and less than $2. One walks into town through the old walls. All very picturesque and very beautiful, even when mobbed by kids in strange anime costumes.