This is why Scott Adams is a genius:
I’m anxiously awaiting the next innovation in restroom automation. I assume developers are already working on the last mile: A robotic arm to unzip my pants, grab my unit, then do the holding, shaking, and repackaging. I’m too busy to do that stuff for myself. Plus I was already spoiled by the time they automated the paper towel dispenser.
The Autopee device (it needs a name) would be problematic because every guy is built different. Somehow it would need to know the dimensions of what’s behind your zipper so it didn’t accidentally neuter you. I suppose the best way to do that is to have some sort of voice recognition software that asks you what kind of car you drive. If it’s a Porsche, for example, you might be compensating. If it’s a Honda minivan, you’re probably sporting an anaconda.
You’d also have to tell the Autopee how much shaking you want, ranging anywhere from two quick flicks to a happy ending.
Good luck getting that image out of your head.
The man can draw AND write. How unfair. And by the way, he didn’t mention an Autopee equivalent for the women, unless he reckons women are less lazy than men. Or because he’s a man, and didn’t even THINK of the women. Misogynist.
Eulogy for a Tyrant. An enlightening read.
How good does this sound: Anchovy Butter Cheese Toasts. Yum!!
This is not a resolutions list. I repeat, this is not a resolutions list. If it was, I would be a very, very sad person with no ambition.
- Start making rubber stamps
I’m far too cheapskate to buy those overpriced stamps at paper craft shops and the Hobbycraft show, and I have fond memories of making stamps out of rubber erasers. There are pound shops here that sell loads of erasers. The one thing I will spend on is good quality stamp pads and a sharp knife. The goal? Creating my own postcards (as distinct from Artist Trading Cards, I’m not an artist) and notecards. Adding more oomph to the greeting cards I’ve started making.
- Get a routine
Neil and I have yet to settle into a daily routine here, and I want to finally join the Scottish SPCA and do some weekend volunteering. Also, while it’s cold, to join the gym and go after dinner during the week.
- Exercise my tourist rights
I’m going to explore the Real Mary King’s Close. I will see what’s left of Glasgow’s medieval past. I will go on more walks to see the country.
- Visit more cemeteries
Don’t ask me why; I think it has something to do with Singapore’s relentless march of progress, with new condos and hospitals built on freshy exhumed ground. I loved the Necropolis when I visited in 2003, and I’ve been to two cemeteries since I got to Scotland this year. I would really like to visit Craigton and Kirk ‘o’ Shotts.
What are your non-resolutions?
What worries me is not news that consumers may be ‘confused’ by rival nutrition labelling systems, but that “47% of adults lacked the numerical skills to understand what the [percentage-based] labels meant.” It’s out of a maximum of a hundred. If you can’t grasp that concept, even if you haven’t had a formal education, I worry that you may reproduce.
And, yes, I did detect the irony of using a percentage to describe the relative number of people who didn’t understand percentages.
Reading about collaborating with the government led me to three articles about blogging during elections (1, 2, 3). I definitely agree that the legislation pertaining to the media is deliberately vague — the general public is so afraid of crossing those invisible OB markers that they’d rather not say anything at all, and the government is happy to let us focus on increasing the GDP instead*.
Personally, I prefer generally serious and occasionally humorous political discussion over overt advertising any day, but I don’t think a government should tell us what we can or can’t say**. It does say a lot when a political party that has had an effective monopoly of power for almost half a century thinks that political humour and satire makes them less credible, or that more freedom in campaigning will lead to some sort of widespread anarchy. This implies they either think average Singaporeans are complete morons, or they doubt — deep down — their real contribution to society.
* I admire Yawning Bread for going through Singaporean legislation. Laws are bloody annoying to read.
** However, with freedom comes responsibility. If you’re determined on a free for all, don’t complain when it becomes nasty.
Some great tips for designing your on WordPress theme. I’d like to add that The GIMP is a great image manipulator, and the price is right.
However, if you’re stuck for inspiration, or only want to tweak an existing pretty template, head on over to OpenDesigns.org. The majority of templates seem geared toward weblogs, and I’m not surprised.
Loads of people in Scotland are going through a fourth day without electricity. Most unfortunately, the person they chose to interview on BBC was a fella who had an Aga-type stove (or the kind I’ve seen on those house-buying programmes, they cook your food and heat your house). Of course, he probably chose the electricity-powered option for convenience!
A suspicious number of colleagues called in sick on the second day of the new year. No specific ailments were named and blamed, and I have a feeling they were all suffering from the same malady: The New Year Hangover Of Neverending Pain and Slow Torture™.
Hangovers are funny things. They don’t tend to afflict the more youthful drinkers among us, reinforcing the ‘young as invincible’ illusion. Life is wonderful, you can go out and party and still make it to work the next day — until one fateful morning, WHEN IT HITS YOU. And then you feel like SHIT.
The hangover announces its arrival like a man with pointy teeth in a cemetary — without warning and showing no mercy. It saps your will to live. Suddenly, doing anything hurts. Thinking hurts. Lying down hurts. I’ve heard of loads of hangover cures, and the best post-drinking regimen I’ve tried and tested is:
- Take a paracetamol before you go to bed. Of course, if you’re compos mentis enough to remember this, you’re not that drunk and probably won’t suffer a massive hangover anyway.
- If you’re pished enough that the room is spinning, DON’T LIE DOWN. You’ll have to clean up your mess in the morning. If you can’t stay awake, sleep sitting up.
- When you get up, if the headache has stomped all over and spat derisively on your first pre-emptive paracetamol, take another couple.
- Have a cup of tea and something to eat — nothing too big, roasted cheese, for example.
- Curl up on the couch and try to block all sensory input from the world around you. Nap. Preferably with a look of misery on your face.
- Drink more tea.
… for point and shoots, that is. What I consider ironic is that I am very much a casual shooter of photos, it’s not even really a hobby, but I find shooting macro on my non-digital SLR (purchased back when I laboured under the delusion that I had some talent) more fun than my Cybershot (the focal length is a bit shite, I can’t get a real macro shot).