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September 13, 2006

Inadvertant Experiments in Fatigue

I've been enslaved by the glowing screen of pixels these past few days into the wee hours of the mornings--so much so that today has been a very strange experience.

The fun started when I was browsing my RSS feed reader's Fark headlines. This particular headline caught my eye:

[Amusing] In case you ever wondered, yes, a cat will sit still long enough for you to tape a strip of bacon to it (SFW)

SFW stands for Safe For Work and is used in conjuction with a headline implying the article is inappropriate for work but actually isn't. NSFW obviously means don't look while there are other eyes nearby or an Orwellian network policy.

I figured there would be a cute picture and move on, but the article was brilliant. See for yourself and be sure to read the text and comments. This brought tears to my eyes. The gorgeous cat looks completely unharmed--even uninspired--and the text and comments really pull together for a wonderful package. One of the comments on Fark led to another cute but not as funny site: Stuff On My Cat. The subtitle (Stuff + Cats = Awesome) is absolutely beautiful and evokes a couple more tears of giddiness.

I began to suspect that my pronounced lack of sleep fatigue was amplifying my merriment, but continued with my day of coding.

Later in the day, I was writing a function to convert user input to ANSII date format (YYYY-MM-DD HH:MM:SS) and stumbled across further proof that being really tired amplifies my jockularity. Here is the line that struck me as odd.

  return date('Y-m-d H:i:00', strtotime($date.' '.().':'.()));

I completed the parentheses first to minimize the chance of a syntax error (many of which I had already made earlier in my dimished capacity for focused programming). While looking at that line, I saw a lobster! Yes, here is my contribution to the lovely world of ASCII art (mono-spaced font preferred):

  ().':'.()
or 
  Y.':'.Y

Either I thought this was particularly clever because I'm not, as we say in The Business, "all there," or I really have stumbled upon something of such underwhelming import as to invoke the desire to blog about it. Regardless, I share it with you here. Enjoy!

Posted at 01:49 PM | Life and Work | Comments (0)

September 01, 2006

Quick Wit Retort

I haven't blogged in a long time, and my muse isn't feeding me much at the moment, so I'll share one of my favorite jokes that I read on rec.humor back when Usenet was useful (1990). It has been editted slightly for flavor and currency and do not read it if you're offended by colorful language.

Quick Wit Retort
Once upon a time, a young man went to the circus. He was very excited, as he lived in western Manitoba and had never seen a circus before--the kind of town where you shave and the trolley stops. Anyway, as circus days drew nigh, the young man grew ever more excited. He arrived before dawn to get the best seat in the house and sat down hours before the first trapeze act.

Finally after waiting for so long, the trapeze artists gave an awe-inspiring performance, the elephants danced and the lion tamer tamed. As the finale, clowns came out in full regalia and green hair. They rode around by the gross in a purple Volkswagen. The Volksie pulled up to center of the ring and an overweight clown with orange hair, acne and a purple nose advanced to the podium: "Will the person in section A, row Y, seat 42 please stand up?"

The young man looked at his ticket, and to his surprise, he was sitting in that very seat. The young man stood up. The clown then says, "Well-l-l-l-l-l, there's the horse's ass, now where's the rest of the horse?"

The entire crowd burst out into laughter. The young man, dumbfounded, stood for a moment, then quickly made his way through crowd and out of the tent. Returning home, he wept for days, and mourned the loss of dignity and honor.

Eventually reason overcame his grief and the young man grew determined. "I'm not going to get mad, I'm going to get even and avenge the honor of myself, my family, and this town," he exclaimed. He picked up the curriculum guide for the University of Nevada at Las Vegas (UNLV) correspondence courses and started to read. Eventually his eyes came to rest on an ad for a class in "Quick Wit Retort."

"Learn how to use those snappy comebacks to your advantage, now!"

So the young man sent in his $19.95 and soon received the course materials. In a few weeks, the young man mastered the materials and sent the final back to UNLV. Much to his surprise, a registered letter arrived from the president of UNLV. It read: "Dear Sir: We are utterly flabbergasted at your performance in Quick Wit Retort 101. We would be most gratified if you could come to UNLV to complete your degree with our fine academic institution. Here's a check to cover your expenses."

To make a long story short, the young man made straight A's in the QWR program. He was awarded numerous distinctions and when he graduated, the graduation speaker, General Colin Powell (U.S. Army, Ret.), awarded the man the Presidential Medal of Outstanding Quick Wit Retort, signed by George W Bush himself! Some days afterward, Harvard University sent a Lear jet to pick the man up for an interview.

The graduate admissions officer didn't mince words. "If you complete our masters/doctoral tenured track program in QWR, you will never have to worry about money again," said he. Needless to say, the young man promptly moved to Cambridge. In five years, the man had finished his doctorate. By this time, the young man was known throughout the world as the leading expert in Quick Wit Retort. Word had even reached western Manitoba, which, of course, made his mother very proud. Everyone from Pentagon pundits to Beltway bandits consulted the man on technical questions of QWR.

One day, while sitting at his desk reading his hometown newspaper, the young man noticed that the circus was coming to his hometown again. An evil smile crossed the young man's face. "Hobbs," cried the man to his assistant, "We must be away to Manitoba. Ready the jet!" As the plane crossed the purple mountains majesty and the fruited plains, the young man savored the moment of victory that was to be his. He arrived at the circus tent very early, making sure to get that very special seat: Section A, row Y, seat 42.

Finally, the circus began. The trapeze artists gave an awe-inspiring performance, the elephants danced, and the lion tamer tamed. At last, the clowns came out in full regalia and green hair. They rode around by the gross in a purple Volkswagen. The Volksie pulled up to center of the ring and an overweight clown with orange hair, acne, and a purple nose advanced to the podium: "Will the person in section A, row Y, seat 42 please stand up?"

The young man glanced at his ticket. This time he was ready. The clown looks up at him and says, "Well-l-l-l-l, there's the horse's ass, now where's the rest of the horse?"

The young man rose to his feet, full of confidence. He knew from his years of training that there was only one thing he could do. He thrust out his chest and said in the loudest voice you can imagine: "FUCK YOU, CLOWN!"

Posted at 03:58 PM | Misc | Comments (0)