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Fun project for extra points:
Go to the Straight Dope Message Board
Go to Mundane Pointless Stuff I Must Share
Find a thread called Ask Me, I'm Incarcerated
Report back.
1 + 1 = 3
Careful, Fidel. I'm married.
Gotta go. It's top of the hour and everybody knows what that means.
So let me leave you with these bon mots:
Favourite novelist: David Foster Wallace
Second favourite novelist: Any Rand
Didn't you make a typo?
No, that's just how I spell it.
Why?
Why not?
John Lennon didn't have the benefit of the internet.
I rode on helter skelter rides at fun parks in Skegness and Brighton, Blackpool etc when I was a kid. Whhoooopee!
Wilf Day.
Why does the Representation Agreement Act specifically exclude the people who would benefit the most from it?
Was the BC Schizophrenia Society involved in that decision? BCCLA? SPCA? Eli Lilly? In whose best interest was it to leave us out in the cold? Again.
Why do lawyers give me conflicting advice?
Isn't it enough to be bipolar?
Do I have to teach law school too?
Remember to start your answer with IANAL.
I went to Charles Lamb in Islington. Miss Reid was Class 1, lovely young red-haired woman. I think she was about 19.
I have to gather my team but nobody will take your calls if you have a blocked number.
Even Big Jake was turning me down for a while there.
Zadie Smith
Any Rand
Paul McCartney
Duncan Bannatyne
Later.
Turns out Any Rand is dead. Nobody ever tells me anything.
No. Because they belong where they are.
You have to do the best you can. And then hand off and let someone else take over. The secret is knowing when to go from the former to the latter.
Here comes the sun and I missed my nicotine delivery. This I do for you people even though I don't really know who many of you are. I say it's all right. Actually, that might have been Lennon. Hard to sort out my head these days. So maybe it's a good thing I'm in a mental hospital. 'cause you guys really don't want me out there. Cause when I tell the homies what the deal is there will be a stampede to the Emergency Room. So my advice is man up and recognize that you can fight to the death and you can kill the Goodbye Pie but you will never erase her energy impression upon the universe.
Back to SDMB, we have an in joke. Somebody meant to write "panic ensued" but typed "penis ensued" instead. Don't know if you know about the Dope but over there you have a 3 minute edit window. I cracked under that kind of pressure. Same reason I bombed the LSAT. 62% and I was applying as a gimp and I had 3 reference lawyers from lawyers but it still wasn't working for me.
And it blew my mind. Because I didn't graduate from high school. As no intelligent person ever did.
Weren't my local, mate. I thought they was all toffey noses down in London town. I was never more than a bus ride from the socialist enclave of Sheffield.
I'm scared. I'm so scared I'm going to die.
David Foster Wallace.
Any Rand.
Caitlin Anne Burgess.
Robert D.
But, oh, that magic feeling -- nowhere to go.
Angel Station. Go Arsenal!!! Where are you, geographically speaking, right at this moment? I'm in Victoria. We came to Canada in 1973.
Was there an earthquake last night? I wrote it down but nobody else seemed to notice.
Okay, signing off, just wanted to share one little secret about my nuclear family:
There were four of us.
Nobody graduated from high school.
One has a PhD (Philosophy).
One has a Masters (English).
One has some PSE.
One died.
Guess which one I am?
Now, that's an LSAT question I'd deign to answer!
Your advice skills suck and you should apologize for starting this thread.
To answer your questions ...
1) Can I combine a computer and a tv?
Yes.
2) Can I buy a cordless phone with headset with call display?
Yes.
3) Can you help me write my resume?
You've already written your resume. You're a black, German, gay, male, crazy person with few skills, with little ambition, strong opinions (though you haven't expressed any,really), and a cheque you get whether you work or not. Put that in point form on a sheet with your name and address and presto: resume. You can pretty it up with some headings if you like. Put strong opinions under skills and gay, black, German under experience.
4) Can you tell my husband that I'm sorry?
If you send him here.
5) Can you tell my parents that I'm sorry?
They know.
6) Can you tell my sister that I'm sorry?
She won't believe me.
I live beside some Straight White Crazy Women, they are my friends.
Crazy can be friends, sure they can. We are Buddies, we look out for each other. I am a bit "touched" myself I suppose... and straight and white too, but just not a woman {ya, you thought I was a woman, didn't you?}
One of them is an OCD case who goes through the TV listings and writes down the programs the household WILL watch that evening, so as to avoid arguments over channel switching. She just doesn't understand that she is being a dictator and that resolving the issue of "who gets to choose" is more complicated than this. Her world is utterly inside herself, she does not have the mental ability to consider other people.
Another habit of the obese one is to drink pop and eat chocolate bars and then claim "METABOLISM". Uh huh, sure it is sweetheart. You are as wide as you are tall because of your slow metabolism, riiiiiiiiiiight. So, I suggest Coconut Milk as a way to speed up her matabolism and she becomes flustered and upset, so I leave and drop the subject.
They cannot stand each other, but they live together, at least for the winter. Probably going to be lifelong friends.
My suggestion is to LOVE THE CRAZY STRAIGHT WHITE WOMEN too. We all have issues.
I was pleased to note that "hillbilly jumping clinic" gives this thread as google's top pick.
I had no idea I had such power.
Kidding.
I've known I had the power all my life.
Can somebody please find me the PsychOut conference thread???
Here it is:
http://www.rabble.ca/babble/body-and-soul/call-out-psychout-conference-o...
Thanks, Sineed. (I think I thanked you in the wrong thread.)
As of tomorrow morning (9:00), I'm a free woman. Freedom. Not an Extended Leave Certificate but real, beautiful freedom. In celebration, I'd like to take my maiden name back. Yes, I'd like to be known hereafter as G. Muffin. If Maysie can do it, so can I.
Snert? Unionist? Oldgoat? RP? Anyone?
goodbyepie (at) yahoo (dot) ca
Will any good come of this world? Will any good come of me? Will we take this lying down?
Asked and answered. You live in this world, don't you?
Asked and answered.
I'm afraid not.
You're scaring me.
Good stuff G. Muffin. Hope you have a great day.
Thanks, RP. Starbucks opens at 530 PST. And, indeed, it will be a Great Day. So, thank you.
Correct me if I'm wrong (and only if I'm wrong). And to all the insomniac logicians out there: correct me iff I'm wrong.
It's now January 22nd, representing the 22nd day out of the institution. Can't argue with 22 days out of the bin!!!