Bugs and Bubbles

That sounds like the title to a childrens "edutainment" program, doesn't it?

It's not.  It's my workplace.  Though it is pretty juvenile.

Yesterday, because our office is oh-so-pretty and pristine, a dead bug flew out of the air vent and onto my head.  Laughter ensued--but not mine.

Today we're popping bubble wrap.  Not just any bubble wrap, though, the big, industrial-sized-bubbles bubble wrap.  Our boss said we have to.

I'm not sure whether we just crack up easily, or if we're just cracked.


(True:  I never cared for that magazing, but Spy vs. Spy was pretty awesome...)

Another Not-Real Post You'll Still Really Want To Read

Look, I know, I know.  I'm the worst blogger ever to not-really-blog.  But I'm working through my lunch (except for these few minutes, obviously, but I can totally type this up faster than I could pee.  Which actually, I just realized I need to do, too.) so you'll just have to deal with it.

Anyhoo...  here's some content from other, better internet places.

Click here to embiggen.

I'm that horrible, unforgiveable person who doesn't RSVP.  Ever.  I mean, I've never RSVPed to anything.  But this one...  No, I wouldn't RSVP to this one, either.  But I would put it on my refrigerator.  As a side note, "please RSVP" is redundant.  The VSP bit means si vous plait, which means please.  Your asking your guests to "please respond please."  And if they're anything like me, they still won't.  Because they're assholes.  Or just forgetful.  (Those two aren't mutually exclusive.)



While this post is quite aleatory, and I feel a measure of huzun, it's not because I'm a noceur.  Though you could accurately describe me as frowzy, wifty, aspectabund, and in a near-constant state of fernweh.  If you too, "suffer" from logolepsy and desire a verbal smultronstalle, you'll love Otherwordly.



You know what's cool?  When little girls dress like superheroes.  You know what's even cooler?

Via

When an artist takes these heroes seriously, and makes them come alive in awesome 2D.


(True:  I really need to know what awesome Internet thing have you stumbled across recently.)

I'm Getting a Bit Worried.

I've done nothing ridiculous in about a week now.

I haven't accidentally spoken out of turn or nearly killed myself with hilarious results.

I haven't experienced the absurd.

Is this blog doomed?  Am I done doing silly things and being egotistical enough that I think my happenings simply must be shared with the entire Internet?  Have I finally achieved adulthood?!





Oh, never mind.  There's the absurdity I was looking for.

Here's some more:

This kid has got it right.

And, here's a (sort of NSFW but absolutely hysterical) gif series of David Tennant and the Stress Ball.


(True:  Dear Internet,  I less than three you so hard right now.)

A Hairy Situation: Vote on It!

It's damp and disgusting out, and I have a date tonight.

So I have three options:

1. I can leave my hair "as is" and go out with Hermione Hair.
2. I can spend thirty minutes straightening my hair.  It will look nice until the minute I step outside--then it will return to its natural state, Hermione Hair.
3. I can apply hot curlers, which takes very little time (I can finish getting ready while they set) and will hold all night.  This option will give me hair such as an '80s porn star's dreams are made of.

I don't feel like making any decsions today.  So I'm leaving it up to your vote.  Comment below, and I'll go with whatever has the most votes when I need to get ready.  I'll even post a photo!  (Of my real face, people.  This is unprecedented.  And goes to show my brain is incapable of rational thought today.)

A First-Person Narrative

I'm eating hummus for lunch and I just stumbled across the terrifying words "Honey Boo Boo."

So there went my idea for today's post.  It must not have been very important.

So, here are some thoughts on my day:

Someone has been sitting on my chair.  Someone adjusted my chair.  My feet don't touch the floor!  Who has been sitting in my chair???  Jerk.

Someone once told me the hydraulics in swivel chairs are powerful enough that a malfunction could shoot the base all the way through your butt. 

If this is a promotion, why am I sitting at the short bus desk?  I had a bigger desk in third grade, and that had a flip top for storage.  This one just has a cartoon that says, "Weenie Hut Jr's."

At what point is it reasonable to ask for my borrowed pen back?  It's been twenty minutes.  And that pen is perfectly broken in.  Is the borrower at lunch?  Maybe I could steal it back.  Crap.  It's not in plain sight and there are too many people around for me to rifle through drawers.



(True:  No, this is not a real post.  I'd sell my left foot--that's my ass-kicking foot--for a nap.  And I'd be open to negotiation.)

I Have Landed in an Alternate Universe.

Which I realized on Saturday evening, at a Roller Derby after-party with professional derby girls and Canadians.

Let's face it, guys--I'm not cool enough for any part of that scenario.

On a related note, Canadians really are as nice as everyone always says.  At the bout, the emcee hosted a game of scavenger hunting musical chairs.  One of the items the players had to find was a Canadian coin.  There was one group of Canadian fans.  They very politely gave every participant money from their pockets.

Also, the half-time show was a professional hula-hooper.

I swear to god I'm not making this up.

And no, I wasn't smoking anything, either.


(True:  Have you ever seen Roller Derby?  Because you need to.  Also, where can I take hula hoop lessons?)

Some Things I Just Can't Wrap My Head Around

I like Geekologie.  It's pretty much the place to go for your science news spun raunchy--that is, if you like your geek with a side of alcoholism.  And let's be honest:  who doesn't?

Today I learned two things I'm having a difficult time wrapping my head around.

First, the universe is 80 million years older than we'd thought.  Okay, in the grand scheme of the universe, that's not so hard to imagine.  The universe was already pretty frickin' old.  But the idea that it might have expanded from something smaller than an atom into, you know, the universe more-or-less as we know it?  In less than a second?

Whoa.

Because that means it expanded faster than the speed of light.  And that means time travel.  I know that because of movies.

And that's how you suddenly age 80 million years, Universe.  You've no one to blame but yourself.

And that brings a whole new meaning to A Wrinkle in Time.


I also learned Chuck Norris is a modern-day Samson.

The world gets weirder every day, yo.


(True:  I went to the Museum of Science and Industry this weekend.  So blame this post on the fact that I'm all smarted out.)

Hops in the Right Direction: Communication is Key (And a Key to Communication)

I talk to my dog.  A lot.  And yeah, I get it.  She doesn't understand English, and the talking is mostly for my benefit.  But she does understand my tone, facial expressions, and body language.

But that communication goes two ways--she "talks" to me, too.  I get the play bow when she wants to play fetch or tug; I get anxious eyes and a little squeak when she needs to go out.  Dogs (and cats!) have more subtle ways of communicating, as well.  Via Tails, Inc., the only email newsletter I have ever bothered to subscribe to (and actually look forward to receiving):

Click here to embiggen.

In any successful relationship, both parties need to have an open line of communication--and a cheat sheet helps!


(True:  Earlier this week, I mentioned Black Dog Syndrome.  As it turns out, experts disagree on whether it's a real thing or a myth.  Regardless, any establishment trying to help any pet  find a home is A-okay in my book!)

Pinterest, Don't Ever Change.

Pinterest is interesting.

In the last ten minutes, I've been introduced to a Batman Snuggie, a solar-powered bonsai tree, and someone in an absolutely ginormous panda costume being shoved through a too-small train car door by several police officers.

Via

(True:  I may want two of those things.  Guess which?)

Quick! I Need an Icepick!

I had a really clever idea for what to blog about today, but then the guys in my department started talking about the etymology of the Brazilian wax and I had to perform an emergency auto-lobotomy.


(True:  The word "I" comes from the Latin idem, which means "the same."  Because I'm unique.  Just like everyone else.)

The More You Know

I try to learn something new every day.  I find it keeps my mind open and sharp.

Today I learned that a can of Mountain Dew that is mostly slush can still explode if you drop it--it's just a slow-motion explosion that lasts about ten minutes.

My life will be much richer for this information.  And my desk much stickier.


(Want to know how to traumatize me at 8:07 in the morning?  Give me a can of soda--sweet, sweet caffeine--that is puking like a slushie volcano.  And that's probably the most mixed metaphor I've ever conceieved.  You're welcome.)

Not the Phone You're Looking For

I went to a private high school, and I was one of the select few allowed a key to the elevator for some boring health blah, blah, blah.

Like most elevators, this one had an emergency phone.

Unlike most elevators, this one's phone was listed in the phone book.

So it wasn't uncommon for me to answer the phone and chat with some poor parent looking for information on admissions.  Fortunately for them, I worked part-time in the admissions office and could direct them to the right number.  Unfortunately, I graduated some years ago and am no longer available for that service...


(True:  You know the kind of luck I have?  The kind where I drop the key to the elevator down the elevator shaft.  Luckily, I knew rescuing-type people.)

This is a true thing.

When you're sick, no matter how old you are, you wish your mom were there to take care of you.  Because the pizza guy is willing to bring you food, but it's unlikely he'll buy you another box of Kleenex when you run out.

If you hadn't gathered, I'm sick.  It's just a standard cold (or possibly the flu; doctors are for wussies), but it's the full-fledged disgusting kind, complete with snot bubbles.  My whole face is leaking.

I'm pretty gross right now.  Fortunately, I have a very fluffy dog whose not-so-secret superpower is cuddling.  (Also something the pizza guy isn't in for.)

Real post tomorrow!

xoxo,
Dana the Biped

Reason I Love My Job #848

My manager gave me beer for Christmas.


(True:  I'm headed up to AbominableSnowmanLand tonight--no promises that I'll post on Monday.  Have a safe and happy holiday, folks!)

Easy DIY Gift Bag Upgrade

I use gift bags very rarely.  In general, I like wrapping gifts.  (Yeah, I'm weird.  Tell me something I don't know.)  This year, though, I'm just so tired.  So I'm taking some shortcuts--some gifts are getting the "shove it in a gift bag and forget about it" treatment.

Aaand since I like things to be pretty and inexpensive, I upgraded some inexpensive, plain bags.  And they actually don't look dumb!




Just remember, I am the world's worst photographer.

 You can stop here.  No really.  You can look at the photo and see how it's done.  See?  You can shortcut your wrapping and your blog-reading.

What you'll need:

Gift bags
Craft/wrapping paper in coordinating colors
Glue dots/tape
Raffia/ribbon
Bells/ornaments/something pretty (optional)


For the bag on the left, I cut strips of wrapping paper about two inches wide, cut fringe, and curled it up around my finger.  I taped the fringe strips on the bag, because I'm classy like that.  (And also because I couldn't find my glue dots.  Seriously.  What did I do before glue dots?)  And then I used a strip of paper to cover the tape on the top layer of fringe.  The bag I already had.  The paper I already had.  The raffia I already had.  Total cost:  $0.  Total time:  5 minutes.

For the bag on the right, I cut two triangles, the star shape, and the rectangle for the trunk out of wrapping paper.  (The paper I have is a heavier, paper-grocery bag texture, FYI.)  I made it purposely imperfect, since that seemed to fit the "down home" feel of the color combo with the checks.  As I said, I misplaced my glue dots, so I used the old tape loop trick--one in the middle of the smaller triangle, and one in each corner of the larger triangle.  The fact that the edges of the trees are not tight against the bag makes for an interesting texture, though it didn't translate well to photo.  (Blame it on the photographer.  Frankly, I'm surprised she managed to get the entirety of both bags in one shot.)  The bells are a cheapy ornament I got at Target to dress it up a bit more, since I don't have the energy to do fancy bows this year.  Five bags:  $3.  Bell ornaments from Target:  $1.  Total cost per bag:  $1.60.  And it actually looks cute enough to be reused next year.  (What, doesn't your family do that, too?)  Total time:  2 minutes.

(Bravo if you read this far.  Don't give me that look--I told you you didn't need to.)


(True:  Last chance to email me at danathebiped at gmx dot com about what nice thing you've done for homeless pets and even have the smallest hope of getting your Possum Pinups calendar by Christmas!)

Hops in the Right Direction: I've done nothing all week, so here is some stuff other, more productive people have done.

Yeah, I've been MIA again.  What can I say?  I've been focused on not dying.  I even took a sick day from work, so you know it's serious.

Anyway, while I've been snoring/snotting/sniffling on everything, the Internet has been hard at work, coming up with things for me to post.



There is no reason for me to post that image other than it cracks me up.

I'm sorry.  This is going to be an odd post.  I'm all hopped up on cold medicine.

As long as I'm posting funny shtuff, lookit this!

Via

What can I say?  It cracked me up.

And this one is seasonally appropriate!

Via

But  here is a photo/link that is more seriously awesome:

We all know that dogs with altered mobility are the best.  And we know that therapy dogs are also the best.  (Shut up.  I know that doesn't make sense.  Roll with me here, yeah?  <--That's a joke.  You'll get it in a minute.)  Well, therapy dogs with altered mobility are the bestest.

Via

I think I had something else to say, but I forgot.


(True:  Don't forget your Possum Pinups calendar!)

Imagine Some Really Hot Chick with Her Mouth Open. That Might Help.

The disappointment, that is, because confession:  I am a huge tease.  And this is not a real post, so that's double the disappointment.

I hear "vodka" is Russian for "survival,"* though, so take a double shot and you're welcome.

But here's the tease part--are you ready for it?

Next week, I have a BIG ANNOUNCEMENT to make.  And it involves cool stuff and you're not going to want to miss out...



(True:  *I have a source for this--beer.  Although beer has lied to me in the past...)

Mr. Sampson would be so ashamed.

I am eating pizza/listening to the GodPod.  Because the two are mutually inclusive.  I have an electic mix of music left over from an ex-boyfriend whose iTunes playlist I raided.  It's got everything from classic rock to classical, and some that are a mix of the two.

Cue the opening bars of a recording. 

Internal Me:  Oooh, this is from Aladdin!  I loved that movie!

Me Me:  I don't trust you.  I'm checking what this piece is.

(Pause while I check out the GodPod screen.)

Me Me:  Wrong.  It's Tchaikovsky. 

Internal Me:  Oh.  Well, you know.  That's good, too.

Via

Via



(True:  The above dudes ARE NOT THE SAME, Mental Me.  Aladdin has more hair, and Tchaikovsky has more clothing.  Geez.)

Living to Tell the Tale

You guys, I'm sorry.  I have been MIA, and a very bad blogger.  (I'm so ashamed.)

BUT, I have a good reason:  I was in Cleveland.  Not for fun, because if I had enough money to go on vacation, I would go to a beach and drink rummy things with umbrellas, or New York and see a show, or DC and move into the Smithsonian.

I went for work. 

I have to say, Cleveland was pretty all right, all things considered.  We had some amazing food, saw some pretty incredible art, stayed in a very nice hotel, and did some work-related stuff, too.  Of course, the place where the workshop was held was in the worst slum I have ever seen.  We didn't get shot, though, so it's all good.

Though I'm pretty sure someone threw a rock at our car.


(True:  Seriously, though, if you ever go to Cleveland, eat at Felice.  Your tastebuds will thank you.  And the sassy lady who owns the place, Margaret, is definitely Prada Approved.)

Ads, Schmads.

I do not click on the ads on my blog.  That would be click fraud, and anyone with hands as soft as mine really shouldn't be spending any time in the Big House.

But, I do like to check out what my adbot thinks makes sense.  Sometimes, it doesn't:

I'm sure it's a very nice family.  But I sort of resent the ad's attempt to look like a personal photo of mine.  I dress way better than that.  And my hair is better, too.  Sometimes.



After my recent (panicked) musings (pleas for help) regarding soda, it's only natural that I'd get some ads targeting other caffeine fiends.

But really, adbot?  This?

Ad reads:  "Discover how soda in moderation can be a part of your diet."

I have a few issues with this.  First--who said I was on a diet?  Are you calling me fat, adbot?  You are a jerk adbot, and I don't like you anymore.  You are not invited to my birthday party.  Second, I object to the word "moderation."  That word and my love affair with Mt. Dew do not belong together.  And not in a star-crossed lovers way, either.  In a full-on, everybody-hates-the-Heathers kind of way.  (I'm referring to the movie, not any Heather-named readers.  We're non-nomenist--I just made that word up--here at Five Legs Between Us.)  Third, soda and diets probably don't work too well together, either.  I declare this a "pipe dream" ad.

What weird ads have you seen--here or as you peruse the Internets?  I have the feeling everybody has a story...


(True:  Odd ads aren't limited to my blog.  I changed my Facebook status to "single" some months ago, and ever since, Google has been bombarding me with Russian singles ads.  And lighting ads, because that's what I do for a living.  It's a strange coupling, though, "Hot European Singles Want To Meet You" right next to "30% Off 35W MR16 GU10 Lamps!")