THE cure for the hiccups.

This works. I've seen it work and I've used it myself.
It's not a glass of water, there's no peanut butter involved, and you don't have to stand on your head.

1. The person with the hiccups takes a deep breath and holds it in.
2. A friend then proceeds to blow air into the victim's mouth. Not too hard, though -- just enough to stretch 'em out a little more.
3. Cured.

The end.

The Shawshank of beers

Guinness is the Shawshank Redemption of beers.

Everyone agrees that Shawshank is an incredible movie, but rarely do people seem to name it as their fave or perhaps even in the top five. And only the fucking dumb can argue that Guinness is not a good beer.

Moreover, whenever SR is on, I have to watch it. Doesn't matter what else I'm watching. If it's on, I have to watch it. However, this isn't entirely true for the black stuff, however, I will drink it warm or cold or flat or bubbly or canned or bottled or keg'd.

Finally... well... I know how they both end. Andy got busy living, and I get busy farting. I can't be the only person that suffers from the Guinness farts. [google: guinness fart] But it's seriously debilitating. I have to light candles and open windows; I have to avoid social situations; I have to turn the volume up on my headphones because of my obnoxious bowel rumblings.

So please, take pity on those that drink that which makes us strong.

Scooter's Insight

Scott McClellan is no Ari. There will never be another Ari. Ari was the man. But McClellan here makes a comment with such huge insight.




"I'm lucky when I go into a briefing, I'm gonna speak for forty or forty-five minutes, but I'm lucky to get seven seconds on the news that night."

Imagine if you had to prep (to varying degrees) to present 45 minutes of intellect and spin (to varying degrees) only to have but 7 seconds of it paid attention to. I think I get more than that when I'm in a classroom, but perhaps not by much.

Do the math: let's ignore the prep-work, because obviously the press secretary works for more than 45 minutes a day, but if you work an 8 hour day, proportionally, you are only listened to for 74 seconds a day... my shit stinks for more than 74 seconds -- and that's after I flush. It takes me longer than that to order a Medium-spicy Chicken Korma with extra rice for lunch. And I don't even see people for 8 hours a day.

Assuming you have a two-week vacation (for those of you suckers whacking off 9-5), you're listened to [be happy about this] for 62 minutes a year. That's right, more than one hour a year people pay attention to what you have to say. But the bigger question is now, what is it that we remember?

Is it your mediocre lecture on the failings of Heider and Festinger? You give this lecture twice a year, let's hope some of it sticks.

Is it your fantastic presentation of your own research? You did, after all, jump through all their hoops, work on it for hundreds of hours, and put your balls on the line for 1-and-a-half credits.

Is it your repeated requests for help? Like "SOS plz snd hlp. 911!!!" Nah, pretty sure my e-mail wasn't working that day.

No, it's probably the horrible shit you say to someone to shut them up when you're in a bad mood and all you want to do is get your work done and go home and tell the whole world you don't want to listen to it for 7 seconds today. So you do just that: you fail to bite your tongue at the worst possible time, you tell the wrong person to fuck off (even though EVERYONE knows he deserved it), and you spend the rest of your life wishing you had more message discipline.

The crack spider's bitch

Don't stop me now

If you wanna have a good time, just give me a call!



200 degrees. That's why they call me Mr. Farenheit.

And like you could ever stick a dart in someone's head. Pfft.

Thanks for the safety tip, Igon.

Clean your sponge. Put it in the microwave.

Then make me some fucking nachos.

Some salmon sometime soon

I have yet to try this. Although I could really go for some salmon sometime soon.

FIGHT!

One list of the top ten man-on-man fight scenes.

Jack Elrod

Mark Trail may be the best comic strip ever.



I happened upon this years and years ago when I was working 3rd shift at a hotel. Those were horrible days. Long, lonely hours. Nothing to do except clean jism off the occasional headboard. Radioactive lights sucking the life from you just so you could donate plasma for 20 bucks as soon as your shift was over so you could buy that bottle of gin to drink while watching MASH on the Hallmark channel.

And reading everything in the morning paper... promptly delivered at 5 am by the creepy guy who was probably too Christian to be gay -- except on the weekends when it was delivered by the guy who definitely played high school football but needed to wear a backbrace when he delivered papers. Sometimes he would bring his son. Personally, I would have disowned my father if I had to get up at ass a.m. to deliver papers.

Speaking of fathers, mine wrote a cryptic message in a birthday card this week:
Jeff Always know where your mousetraps are Dad. And that was it.

But this particular Mark Trail episode was the first I had ever actually read. It never occurred to me that... who am I kidding? This is the most boring attempt at a lameass Captain Planet anyone's ever seen. Hear that? Lameass Captain Planet. Err... Lameass Captain Planet. Either way, it's entertainment equivalent of taking a shit with your middle finger up your ass while eating beef jerky.

Still, this one comic captivated me. It had no beginning and no end. Just a woman talking about a wounded animal, a chick talking about her broken pipes (notice the chair in the background -- helps set the scene), then some dude keeping the soft side of his pimphand strong. What more can possibly be said in three frames?

To you Jack Elrod. Keep doing whatever the fuck it is you're doing.

Unanimous approval

People have been chomping at the bit, so here it is:

The minutes of the June 22, 2006 Board of Selectmen of Stafford Springs.

I would like to draw your attention to two points.

Point 3. There were some worthy candidates. I'm disappointed no one was nominated. You'll get them next time crazy epilepsy guy.

Point 4. I voted for Fransinelli based on his proofreading skills. gg



This guy should have won Citizen of the Month. He would sweep, rake, and shovel all year round.

Disabled person must solve

So often we social scientists, especially communication scholars, spend our time focusing on the receiver. What message was heard? How do you respond? What are your perceptions of the source? And even this last question, well, it's still a perception. Ever wondered how hard it is to construct an actual message?

From a cup

Episode 4.5

Roadways laned for traffic

A friend of mine got this ticket.

Squared

I hate it when people think that two of something is squared.
Two Jeffs does not maketh a Jeff-squared.

Pilled to the gills and prowlin' through bars

A decent explanation of a favorite pasttime of mine.

By the time they explain the prevention tactics -- including moderation -- I think it was too late. Although they do seem to recommend taking a lot of pills when you drink.