Chopstork

Nah-ah! Once again, Flickr is so cooooooool! Drag and drop pix onto a map in the organizr and voila, they’re geotagged.

You can link photos up to Upcoming.org events too…maybe we should start using Upcoming instead of evite.

Update: I geotagged the BYOBW pix. Now we can keep track of our gallavanting through the city. To quote Mr. Galewekitch (after he’s in the car and playing with the electric windows): This is so cool!

Comair flight 5191 apparently took off from the wrong runway at Blue Grass Airport and crashed. On the voice recorders was talk about only runway 22, the correct runway. But the plane took off from runway 26, which was too short. Articles have speculated that the taxiway may be confusing, the runway may be poorly marked, the weather reduced visibility, or recent construction may have altered the taxiway.

Shouldn’t the pilots still have recognized they were on the wrong runway? They would have been pointing in the wrong direction. Runway designations are based on their heading. They wouldn’t need to see a sign or even look at a map. Runway 22 points to 220 degrees (plus or minus 5 degrees). Runway 26 is at 260 degrees. I don’t know, I’m not a pilot … maybe checking your heading is not part of the routine for take off. I guess the NTSB will figure out what went wrong soon enough.

I went on my first backpacking trip a few weekends ago with a bunch of veterans to show me the ropes—Luke, DP, Eli, Hattie, and DeLaura. Good times. Of course one of my pre-camping fears was, “I hope pooing in the woods isn’t too hard.” I’ve had difficulties trying to squat in public restrooms in Japan before—burning quads, trying not to fall, etc. This time I quickly discovered how easy it is if you just squat all the way down. How did I learn this beautiful technique? From the elevating porta potty video, previously posted here. See, you can learn things from TV…and Chopstork.

I got back and expressed the joy of my discovery to the others. Which surprisingly led to a discussion of different techniques. You mean it’s not standard-issue?

Today’s lesson: Methods for pooing in the woods.*

The Full Squat. Surprisingly easy. Discovered by girls (and Asians) long ago; shunned by the white man. No stamina required in the legs because you’re already all the way down. Actually leaves plenty of clearance between droppings and dropped pants. May require (minimal) practice to maintain balance.

The Half Squat. A futile farce to keep far from feces. Makes the quads burn. Takes a strong man to maintain. Maybe degrades gracefully into the Full Squat.

The Overbite. Mental comfort of being in a familiar physical position. Must invest time searching for that perfect log or rock (preferably with a view). Risk of tumbling backward if improperly sized object used.

The Middleman. Similar to the Overbite. Eliminates risk of falling over backward, but must find two objects adequately spaced. A well balanced option, though butt-cheek contact with foriegn surfaces appears necessary.

Lean Cuisine. A nice compromise between the Overbite and Middleman. Uses the cheek-lean technique on a single object, eliminating both tumble risk and two-object requirement. May be slightly more difficult to maintain over long periods than the parent methods.

The Whomping Willow. Similar to the Half Squat, but offloads the legs with some additional support. Must find a a tree with appropriately low and flexible branches. Risk of falling into the pile if the branch lacks adequate strength. If you’ve found the right tree, there should already be a hole for you.

*I haven’t tried most of these. The experts can comment on their personal favorites.

Update: Vote for your favorite method over in the sidebar! (Thanks to The Prophet for the suggestion)

Death Cab at the Greek.

New York Times article: A Ring Tone Meant to Fall on Deaf Ears. Summed up—an English company made a high pitched buzzer called the Mosquito to disperse loitering teens in malls. It’s high enough pitch that most adults can’t hear it. The kids figured out that they could turn it into a ringtone that adults can’t hear.

Damn, I wonder if I can hear it. This blog post has the tone in addition to some sine wave tones he generated. I couldn’t hear the last couple until I plugged in decent headphones that could produce the sound. Even then the 18kHz is hard to hear for me, but at least I can hear it.

Can you hear all of them? If not, a) You’re going deaf (it’s ok, it’s natural); b) You need new headphones; or c) All of the above.

Direct links to the tones:

• Mosquito
• 15102 Hz pure sine wave
• 16000 Hz pure sine wave
• 16961 Hz pure sine wave
• 17959 Hz pure sine wave

No liquids on airplanes now because of this terrorist plot. But I’ve already figured out how the terrorists will circumvent the new restrictions: Explosive urine. Pee in the sink, mix it with your explosive diarrhea, BOOM!

Last week, against my better judgment, I bought a Motorola RAZR V3m.  While I loved how easily it fit into my purses — even wristlets — I did not love how the alarm function would only work when I set it for a PM time.  So today I took it back to the Verizon store on University Ave and got the parking spot right outside the door!  Good sign.  I walked over to the customer service counter, where I was immediately complimented on my outfit (not gonna lie, I looked cute today).  Another good sign.  The guy behind the counter asked what my issue was, so I explained my dismay about the alarm, which is a crucial feature for me.  He asked for my receipt and everything that came in the box, so I asked what my options were.  He said I would get a new phone.  The conversation that followed went something to the effect of:
“Are you getting me a new RAZR?”

“Yes.”

“Do I have to get that same phone?”

“No.”

“Good.  Because I’d like to play with the Chocolate.”

::awkward pause, as we both realize that this guy is black::

“Ha, yeah you can definitely do that.”

“Um…  that came out so totally wrong.  I, um, meant the new LG phone.  The Chocolate…”

“I wasn’t going to go there.”

Anyway, so he shows me the LG phone, and it looks purse-fittable.  I don’t care for all the bells and whistles (why are they trying to sell me an MP3 player in a cell phone store?), but it lights up brightly (excellent beacon), has several alarms (good for my neurologically impaired drowsy mornings), and can make and receive calls (I need a fuckin phone, after all).  While he was getting the new phone ready, I discreetly move the gold and diamond (ok fine, gold-plated and CZ) ring from my right hand to my left, in case he thought my poor word choice was hinting at activities I would currently like to engage in with Ty Barnett.  I am so lame.  After a long time and much small talk (they had problems transferring my phone book), he asked me out.  It caught me pretty off-guard, and I just wasn’t feeling it. So there will be no chocolate for Christine.  Just a new phone.

The morning after our Real World party ants were feasting on spilled beer and food in the living room. A little cleanup and Terro wiped them out. Or so I thought. This weekend we noticed ants here and there in the bedroom, which means there’s a line of them marching along nearby. In looking around for the food source, I picked up some dirty clothes to reveal a few ants gathered around a chunk of something on the floor. Great, I crumbed beef jerky in the bedroom. …Nope. It was big honkin chunk of scab. My scab. From where I skinned my knee at the Real World party. Gross.

For our friends who lack the curiosity to click through to You Tube… Another Ok Go video. This one’s older—we’re behind the times, just like Chopstork should be.

Enter their competition to dance with them on stage.

This is a cool video. They must be a cool band. The Jamiroquai of the 2000s…not really.

Chad, can you get Lexi to get this song on in the gym, and we’ll have our own DDR? Who’s with me?