Steve, Don’t Eat It! is a page containing one suicidal man’s experiments with eating… well, one could conceivably call the stuff food. For instance, when he eats Beggin’ Strips:
Meat is a pretty large umbrella. Beef is meat. Pork is meat. Horses, monkeys, and allegedly Arby’s roast beef are meat. Even Rosie O’Donnell’s ball sack is meat. Okay, maybe I’ve gone too far. I have no idea what that is they are serving at Arby’s, but you get my point.
The page is hilarious. I was very glad the roommate was out of town when I read it, as I probably would have scared him with how much I was laughing and choking.
Not that it went away anywhere other than on this site, but, well, these things happen.
Instead of fighting with Eric Anderson’s Del.icio.us Integrator for WordPress (which decided to stop working suddenly [possibly related to my upgrade to WP 1.5.2]), I’m using del.icio.us’s own
Thusly, I am again displaying links. The way it’s set up is all slick and dynamic and stuff.
Now, if I can just kill the damn PHP error on my archive page…
(Oh, and for completely unrelated linkage, see this. *grin* I feel famous.)
I’ve been taking the stuff for almost two weeks now, and the effects are interesting enough to write about. The two effects I primarily notice are (in no particular order) water retentention and sex drive change.
Oh, yeah. This may fall under TMI for some folks.
Continue reading Effects of Ortho Tri-Cyclen Lo
Yesterday, while WO and I were giving the incoming freshmen tours, he called me a jock as I launched into an explanation of the SRC facilities.
Now, I know he didn’t mean it to be insulting. Ignoring the fact that all the mothers on the tour suddenly gave me a once-over (I was wearing a tank-top and shorts, so they could see most of my muscle and most of my fat), I found the term a little odd.
Does weight-lifting and running alone make me a jock? WO says yes, along with the fact that I track weight-lifting workouts.
That doesn’t fit with my idea of a jock. From a Google search:
Definition: An athlete, particularly a male athlete; usually used to describe someone who is good at sports but not so good at school. Example: 1) Kenny is a real jock — he plays football, baseball, basketball and hockey! Etymology: The term comes from ‘jockstrap’, which is an athletic supporter (tight underwear) worn by many men when they are involved in sports.
I’m good at school, damnit!
Am I an athlete? Yes. I strive to be a better runner and a stronger weight-lifter. I strive for physical fitness.
But I don’t take kids’ lunch money. I don’t flunk classes. I’m not better at running than at my would-be vocation of programming. And I don’t beat up geeks. (Hell, I am a geek.)
There’s a connotative difference between an athlete and a jock. Don’t get it twisted.
Stolen from Krista:
List 3 things that bug you – things that others may find trivial. If you have an idea on how to fix it, be sure to put that down too. Then tag 6 of your friends. Only list three things because you may/can be tagged again.
- Slowness – Not just ordinary slowness. I mean slowness in getting started on things that you know need to be done. I mean stopping in the middle of a project to dick around and leaving shit in shambles while you frolic. I mean dragging a five hour project out over two or three days. I also mean being late getting places or meeting people because you don’t or can’t factor in your own damn slowness. I also mean slowness in making small decisions–should it take an hour to decide where you want to eat? There are five restaurants to choose from. Really. (Note: I will playfully excuse myself and WO from that last one, because, well, we do that. *shrug* Everyone else, though… *shakes grumpy finger*)
- Drivers that don’t let pedestrians cross. See, where I come from, pedestrians have the right-of-way. Admittedly, they probably shouldn’t dawdle as they cross the skreet, but they have the right-of-way. Is your trip to the mall, grocery store, or emergency room of the hospital so f’ing important that you can’t let that 80-year woman with a walker and a seeing eye dog hobble across the street without you cutting her off? Patience, people, patience. It ain’t that skerious.
Tag, bitches! WO (bwua-ha-ha, time to edit that blog, darling dear), Nathan, Jenny, EJ, Jenn, and Luke.
Edit: Here’s Jenny’s. Here’s WO’s.