Everyone involved in the production and sales of this item is an asshole.
I just needed a pair of tweezers, man.
Like Roller Skates With a Built-in Juicer
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A Sadly Missed Opportunity
you bet your bottom dollar.
“Umbrellatency”
The time delay between when it stops raining and when people fold up their umbrellas.
“Shodisfaction”
The pleasure one derives from having chosen exactly the right shoes to wear.
From Hell’s Heart I Stab at Thee, iCal
One might legitimately ask why I still use iCal, with alternatives like Fantastical on the market. Honestly, I don’t really know why. As a matter of fact, this is probably the irrelevant little wart that pushes me over the edge:
That’s right — iCal’s reminders do not respect the 24-hour global system preference. I suppose that shouldn’t come as a surprise, since iCal itself doesn’t.
A Haiku for my Megabus Rest Stop
McDonald’s “Salad”
But what’s the alternative?
My spirit recoils.
“Men” “Working”
Don’t exaggerate.
The MTA Turnstiles suck
There are a few reasons. There is no NFC option. The swipe slot requires too much precision. But the #1 reason?
They emit exactly the same tone for “success, please walk through” as “fail! you will break your pelvis if you proceed!”
I think you meant “I am She”
Mass Effect 3 — early report
Monday morning I woke up, and I could tell that, after several days of giving ME 8 hours of my life, and more on Sunday, my brain had, as with Zhuangzi’s butterfly, decided that my corporeal existence was the dream, and ME3 the reality. In those hazy minutes of snoozing between sleeping and waking, instead of thinking “I should get up, take a leak, make coffee, and see about what on my schedule for the day,” I distinctly heard my brain thinking “I should check my mission journal, talk to Liara T’Soni, feed the fish in my captain’s cabin, hit up the galaxy map and see about kicking some Cerberos bitches off a colony”.
When I finally got up, I felt like what I imagine it would feel like had I spent all weekend in AC snorting blow, drinking, and stuffing $20s into G-strings. In other words, dirty, sleazy, and run-down.