Wednesday, July 22, 2009
Ways to View a Sticky Note (#1)
Well, I sure hope this works... None of these have been photoshopped to change the image, by the way, like I usually do.
Monday, July 13, 2009
Forwarded Emails
Ya, you know what I'm talking about, you guilty ones. Forwarded emails are at least in the top ten of my least favorite annoying things. "If you forward this email to six and a half billion people, you will get ONE MILLION punches in the face! That's right, ONE MILLION punches in the face!" The culprits are everywhere. From you cousin to you grandma to that poor girl with cancer that simply won't be able to be cured unless! you help out and send this to ten of your friends and contribute to this absolutely hopeless cause. Note: It is absolutely IMPOSSIBLE to track down a forwarded email without forwarding everything backward from everybody that sent you an email back from when they sent emails to all of their friends. Which means, if the chain continues, the person at the bottom will have ten thousand emails in five generations of the chain. If I'm not explaining this clearly, here's a link to snopes.com, the ending note on matters like this:
http://snopes.com/inboxer/school/names.asp
I'm also not going to go for guilt trips, like "forward this if you beleive in America being free!" It doesn't work on me. I totally agree with the message, but just sending it to people who agree with me won't help fix stuff and sending it to people who for some reason don't won't be changed by sending a stupid email. The worst are the ones with so many typos I can't actually tell what's going on. Worse than that is when not only are there typos, but there are also the forwarding lists of hundreds of email addresses that sent this along to thousands of other poor blokes. I can honestly be ashamed of the human race when I see something like this. (Especially when I notice that most of the sender's addresses end in "cullen".) On a personal level, I will sometimes do a lame friend quiz thing just because I'm bored, but when I do, I retype the entire thing because the enter spaces have gone backwards, words and sentences are missing arms and legs, AOL ads riddle the whole thing and nobody in this whole neverending list of forwards and replies has bothered to do anything. And how easy is it to type that if you forward this, you'll get a promotion or if you don't you'll die and your parents will die and your town will be bombed and your country will go to war with Afghanistan. How gullible are people these days? I know I'm getting a little worked up about this, and I know everybody does it, and "it only takes five minutes!" but the straws have piled and the camel's back is broken. No more forwarded emails. The human race is GROUNDED. If you want to communicate, try actually coming up with something! Do you really want to see your crushes name flash on the screen? Has that ever actually worked? Sending people forwarded stories to stop people from going suicidal is probably the lamest thing I've ever heard! I get those and I'm almost insulted by them, because they say "I love you enough to send you this email I've sent to fifty other people, but not enough to actually say 'Hi!' and start a conversation. Look at how the world sees you!"
I'm really sorry, I'm kinda on a chocolate hangover (had like the whole box of gourmet ones yesterday) but seriously. No more.
http://snopes.com/inboxer/school/names.asp
I'm also not going to go for guilt trips, like "forward this if you beleive in America being free!" It doesn't work on me. I totally agree with the message, but just sending it to people who agree with me won't help fix stuff and sending it to people who for some reason don't won't be changed by sending a stupid email. The worst are the ones with so many typos I can't actually tell what's going on. Worse than that is when not only are there typos, but there are also the forwarding lists of hundreds of email addresses that sent this along to thousands of other poor blokes. I can honestly be ashamed of the human race when I see something like this. (Especially when I notice that most of the sender's addresses end in "cullen".) On a personal level, I will sometimes do a lame friend quiz thing just because I'm bored, but when I do, I retype the entire thing because the enter spaces have gone backwards, words and sentences are missing arms and legs, AOL ads riddle the whole thing and nobody in this whole neverending list of forwards and replies has bothered to do anything. And how easy is it to type that if you forward this, you'll get a promotion or if you don't you'll die and your parents will die and your town will be bombed and your country will go to war with Afghanistan. How gullible are people these days? I know I'm getting a little worked up about this, and I know everybody does it, and "it only takes five minutes!" but the straws have piled and the camel's back is broken. No more forwarded emails. The human race is GROUNDED. If you want to communicate, try actually coming up with something! Do you really want to see your crushes name flash on the screen? Has that ever actually worked? Sending people forwarded stories to stop people from going suicidal is probably the lamest thing I've ever heard! I get those and I'm almost insulted by them, because they say "I love you enough to send you this email I've sent to fifty other people, but not enough to actually say 'Hi!' and start a conversation. Look at how the world sees you!"
I'm really sorry, I'm kinda on a chocolate hangover (had like the whole box of gourmet ones yesterday) but seriously. No more.
Tuesday, July 7, 2009
Look out, world...
I, being about a year late in this, had my first drive for driver's ed today. Here is the transcript:
Before we even left Central High to go to the stake center where we'd start, Mr. Barton got into the car with me in the front passenger seat and Jacob Nelson and Liz Hansen in the back.
Me: Did you look around the car for watermarks (whatever those are), Mr. Barton?
Mr. Barton: I had checked the car before I left the Jr. High to get it.
Me: But how do you know something didn't happen to- Hey look, candy!
It kind of went downhill from there. He had opened the glove compartment to throw something in, exposing a bag of Lifesavers. I never got any.
Later, at the Rexburg Stake center at the edge of town..
Me: Um.
Mr. Barton is knawing off bits of an oversized granola bar.
Barton: Sorry, I never got a breakfast, so I'm just..
Me: Ya, you're fine. It smells good.
He ignores me.
Barton: So. Adjust your chair.
Me: Can't... um.. Oh. There's the button.
I appropriately fix my seat, after much tension and prodding from the instructor.
Me: There.
Barton: Touch the brake.
Me: Touching the brake.
Barton: Now touch the gas... Move your foot... move your heel over.. there you go.
Me: Got it.
Barton: Now turn on the car.
I think the adreneline went through my blood just as fast as the car ignited to life.
Me: Whoa.
I could swear I could hear Jacob and Liz's nervousness growing.
Barton: Hold the brake.
Me: Hold the brake.
Barton: Now shift into drive. Press the button.
Me: Kay.
Barton: Now let go of the brake and let the car creep.
Me: Let go of the brakes.
Barton: Now pull us to a gentle stop..
Me: Stop.
The car jerk to a sudden riggidy stop, which was weird, because we going, like, what, .02 mph?
Liz: Whoa.
Jacob: Whoa.
Barton: That was semi-gentle...
Me: Whoa.
Barton: Now let go of the brake.
Me: Let go of the brake.
Barton: Now press the gas.
Me: Press the gas. (though I was thinking maybe he'd gone crazy, I was perfectly comfortable leaving that thing alone)
Barton: Now stop!
Me: Stop.
The car lurches to a stop slightly smoother than the last time.
Barton: Now I want you to turn gently around this corner. Turn on your left signal. Press the gas...
Me: Turn the corner. Left light. Press the gas.
Barton: Drive into that tree.
Me: Drive into the tree.
What?
Barton: Drive straight through the parking lot, aiming for the tree.
Me: Oh.
...
Barton: Left signal.
Me: Left signal.
Barton: Quit repeating everything I say.
Me: Right.
Barton: Let go of the gas.
Me: I'm letting go of the gas.
Barton: Turn. Sharper!
He hits his brake in a confusing moment where I think he was trying to get me to turn before I thought he wanted me to turn before I was ready, resulting in him stomping on his brake and grabbing the wheel from me. After he corrected the course, I got in control again and slowly mde my way across the lot.
Barton: "I will not repeat everything Mr. Barton says."
Me: I will not re... oh. Right.
This kind of shut me up the rest of the drive, though I kind of had to resist the urge to copy him the entire time. I swear I wasn't doing it to be annoying, but I was nervous and one way I'm sure to retain information is by saying it aloud. So there.
Before we even left Central High to go to the stake center where we'd start, Mr. Barton got into the car with me in the front passenger seat and Jacob Nelson and Liz Hansen in the back.
Me: Did you look around the car for watermarks (whatever those are), Mr. Barton?
Mr. Barton: I had checked the car before I left the Jr. High to get it.
Me: But how do you know something didn't happen to- Hey look, candy!
It kind of went downhill from there. He had opened the glove compartment to throw something in, exposing a bag of Lifesavers. I never got any.
Later, at the Rexburg Stake center at the edge of town..
Me: Um.
Mr. Barton is knawing off bits of an oversized granola bar.
Barton: Sorry, I never got a breakfast, so I'm just..
Me: Ya, you're fine. It smells good.
He ignores me.
Barton: So. Adjust your chair.
Me: Can't... um.. Oh. There's the button.
I appropriately fix my seat, after much tension and prodding from the instructor.
Me: There.
Barton: Touch the brake.
Me: Touching the brake.
Barton: Now touch the gas... Move your foot... move your heel over.. there you go.
Me: Got it.
Barton: Now turn on the car.
I think the adreneline went through my blood just as fast as the car ignited to life.
Me: Whoa.
I could swear I could hear Jacob and Liz's nervousness growing.
Barton: Hold the brake.
Me: Hold the brake.
Barton: Now shift into drive. Press the button.
Me: Kay.
Barton: Now let go of the brake and let the car creep.
Me: Let go of the brakes.
Barton: Now pull us to a gentle stop..
Me: Stop.
The car jerk to a sudden riggidy stop, which was weird, because we going, like, what, .02 mph?
Liz: Whoa.
Jacob: Whoa.
Barton: That was semi-gentle...
Me: Whoa.
Barton: Now let go of the brake.
Me: Let go of the brake.
Barton: Now press the gas.
Me: Press the gas. (though I was thinking maybe he'd gone crazy, I was perfectly comfortable leaving that thing alone)
Barton: Now stop!
Me: Stop.
The car lurches to a stop slightly smoother than the last time.
Barton: Now I want you to turn gently around this corner. Turn on your left signal. Press the gas...
Me: Turn the corner. Left light. Press the gas.
Barton: Drive into that tree.
Me: Drive into the tree.
What?
Barton: Drive straight through the parking lot, aiming for the tree.
Me: Oh.
...
Barton: Left signal.
Me: Left signal.
Barton: Quit repeating everything I say.
Me: Right.
Barton: Let go of the gas.
Me: I'm letting go of the gas.
Barton: Turn. Sharper!
He hits his brake in a confusing moment where I think he was trying to get me to turn before I thought he wanted me to turn before I was ready, resulting in him stomping on his brake and grabbing the wheel from me. After he corrected the course, I got in control again and slowly mde my way across the lot.
Barton: "I will not repeat everything Mr. Barton says."
Me: I will not re... oh. Right.
This kind of shut me up the rest of the drive, though I kind of had to resist the urge to copy him the entire time. I swear I wasn't doing it to be annoying, but I was nervous and one way I'm sure to retain information is by saying it aloud. So there.
Friday, July 3, 2009
Side Effects from Listening to an Mp3 Player too often:
-walking perfectly in step to the 200+ songs you have
-knowing the lyrics to said songs
-thinking of making music videos for every one
-addiction
-loss of concentration
-loss of hearing
-being absolutely certain that one song is your absolute favorite for about ten minutes, than forcing yourself to listen to something else because it got old really quick
-knowing the key, time signature, to all songs
-actually not ever listening to about 10% of them
-realizing too much of your music is angry when you're happy but too upbeat when you're mad
-it takes you at least 10 seconds to sort through to find the one song that you want
-hating it when you end a song too early to listen to another and when you switch it too late and the next one starts, so you feel guilty and want to listen to that one, but you also have already switched to the first one
-making a blog post about your mp3 player
-recharging your 36 hour battery every day and a half
-you've lost it at least three times for a week each (suffering withdrawals) and find it exactly where you left it
-you've ever felt guilty for insulting your own music, even if it does suck
-you listen to it when you ride your bike and bike too fast because your music is too fast, and crash
-when you're not listening to it, it's charging
-or you're at school
-or trying to listen to someone
-or anything else requiring a sense of hearing
-you get really annoyed when any of the last four happen
-you've had at least four, all broken except the current one
-you held a burial for each
-knowing the lyrics to said songs
-thinking of making music videos for every one
-addiction
-loss of concentration
-loss of hearing
-being absolutely certain that one song is your absolute favorite for about ten minutes, than forcing yourself to listen to something else because it got old really quick
-knowing the key, time signature, to all songs
-actually not ever listening to about 10% of them
-realizing too much of your music is angry when you're happy but too upbeat when you're mad
-it takes you at least 10 seconds to sort through to find the one song that you want
-hating it when you end a song too early to listen to another and when you switch it too late and the next one starts, so you feel guilty and want to listen to that one, but you also have already switched to the first one
-making a blog post about your mp3 player
-recharging your 36 hour battery every day and a half
-you've lost it at least three times for a week each (suffering withdrawals) and find it exactly where you left it
-you've ever felt guilty for insulting your own music, even if it does suck
-you listen to it when you ride your bike and bike too fast because your music is too fast, and crash
-when you're not listening to it, it's charging
-or you're at school
-or trying to listen to someone
-or anything else requiring a sense of hearing
-you get really annoyed when any of the last four happen
-you've had at least four, all broken except the current one
-you held a burial for each
Wednesday, July 1, 2009
And Why?
To be honest, I'm a really lazy guy. I would much rather be reading a book or playing video games or watching T.V. or be on the internet laughing at cats. So would most people. That's why America is fat. So I decided to have a Because-It's-Not-New Year's resolution. This is it. I decided that I might be doing something for world by actually THINKING instead of, well, lack of thinking. Now, because I'm so awesome, my thoughts should turn the world for the better. I mean, look at America right now. Do you thinks it's as awesome as I am? I could probably do a better job as President, but I wouldn't because some people would disagree with me and say I'm an awful person, then my feelings would be hurt and I'd cry for days. But I'd still do better than lousy Obama. Not to get too political or anything. Anyways, if I keep typing, maybe the average awesomeness of the Earth will go up slightly. It's a bit formidable because for every 1% I raise the charts, I have to be 6.5 billion times more awesome than every body else. Though, that really shouldn't be too hard. And there are other awesome people, like Jackie Chan, Spiderman, Gandalf, Yoda, and Billy Mays. -sniff- I'm gonna miss that Oxyclean guy. So cool!
Another one of my weaknesses (or strength, perhaps we should just call it talent) is getting severely off topic.
Another one of my weaknesses (or strength, perhaps we should just call it talent) is getting severely off topic.
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