Get thee to a nunnery

Reading this article on in the Times made remember something from high school.

Miss Kubic taught the top class in freshman geometry atmy high school. We figured that’s about as perfect name as you could get for a geometry teacher.

File:The Flying Nun.jpg

Toward the end of the year over lunch our classmate, Adam, said, “Hey don’t you think Miss Kubic looks like Sally Fields in the Flying Nun?”

“I suppose there’s a resemblance. You should ask her if she can fly.”

“I think I will,” Adam resolved.

We left the dining hall, laughing about that, and discussing how Adam would beat a sheepish retreat from the faculty.

Instead, Adam came bursting out of McCune Dining Hall, “She is the Flying Nun!”

“Huh? No way!”

“I asked her if she’s the Flying Nun and she said, ‘Yes.’” Adam explained.

I was gobsmacked.

We found out during class the next day, that Miss Kubic had decided next year to noviate to become a nun. As she was putting a drink on her tray in line, Adam had asked her, “Are you the Flying Nun.” and she had heard, “Are you going to be a nun?” and she replied honestly, “Yes.”

Whenever I think of that, I laugh out loud a little.

I was taught geometry by the Flying Nun.

WWRD?

What Would Ronnie Do?” asks the conservative blogs. My favorite response comes from Martin:

Reagan would have nuked them, of course. So would have Jesus. If we are so lucky to have them resurrected at the same time, they’ll do their wonder-twin ring power thing. Reagan would take the shape of a B-1B low altitude tactical bomber and Jesus would form into a payload of nuclear radiated holy water. They would then disburse over Iran, ridding the region of their non-pentacostal elements and creating a new holy land for displaced GM and Chrysler dealership owners (the wingnut Holocaust).

Classic! The only problem is I don’t think Jesus and Reagan would ever engage in a terrorist fist bump.

Here is another classic from the comment thread:

and:

Is there a doctor in the house?

John Cole points out that there is a segment of the “intelligencia” out there who don’t know that a Ph.D. entitles you to the honorific “doctor.”

“New York Times columnist and Nobel laureate Paul Krugman—who I’ve noticed some econ bloggers refer to as ‘Dr. Krugman’ with no hint of sarcasm—says now’s the time to up our daily allowance of stimulis.”

He got his Ph.D. in 1977, so I don’t understand why people are supposed to be sarcastic if they call him Dr. Krugman. What context am I missing here that would explain this?

Which reminds me, I’m the only member of my family without a Ph.D.

Which reminds me that when I was a kid, answering the phone, I often would be asked, “May I speak to Dr. Chay?”

To which, I’d have to ask with no hint of sarcasm, “Which one?”

No man is an island

…except “Coach

Craig T. Nelson explains the Killer Ape hypothesis. The part anthropologists missed is that, while nobody helped our Third Chimpanzee forbears, they did have access to welfare and food stamps.

(Here is the full segment just in case you think I’m taking this out of context.)

bromance

I’m sorry I missed this word.

From DoubleX:

I agree that the Kirk/Spock dynamic was the richest in the film. But there’s another key relationship that I thought was even more fascinating—the one between Spock and Lt. Uhura. First off, it’s fantastic that Uhura finally feels like a major character, even though she still hasn’t graduated to wearing pants, and even though much of her role here is to provide romantic relief from the bromance and the action scenes.

(The rest of the article is similarly hilarious.)

insp_sexual_tension

From Star Trek Motivational Posters

If he got rid of the bromance, then J.J. Abrams would see some really outraged Trekkies.

Fun things to do at a party

One time at a party in SoMa, I was chatting up a couple girls who were waiting in an inordinately long bathroom line. Since I didn’t have to pee and they did, this pretty much amounted to as much exposition on water flow I could think of—about how I like to take pictures of waterfalls, the time I got stuck in Big Basin in the dead of winter just after a rainstorm and had to crawl down the mountain on my hands and knees while holding a cell phone just above the creek water, and other things that would make their peeing experience, when it did come, that much more satisfying.

“Oh, I should ask Andrei if he’s wants to share a cab with me to after the party. Where is he?” Andrei lives in the building across the street and North Beach is the other end of the city.

“He’s right behind you,” one of them points.

I yell over my shoulder, “Hey, so are you coming home with me?”

At that moment, a guy passed between me and Andrei. He looked like he was new to the city.

Needless to say, the look of horror on his face as he thought I was hitting on him was priceless.

I love this city.

Time to c—

At lunch today someone related this to me.

In the video game industry there is this expression called, “Time To Crate which is the shortest amount of time it takes for a gamer to reach the first crate (which contains health, ammo, and assorted goodies) in the game. Apparently, the shorter the time, the worse the game.

Because the gaming world is starting to merge with the social networking world, there is a new term out: Time To Cock. This is the time between the release of a user-generated content system and the point where that system is used to create a cock.

Apparently, with the advent of online gaming, both times have reached record lows.

Which explains things like thisand this.

Last year, Tagged relaunched our namesake, in which we allowed users to create their own tags. I won’t tell you what our Time To Cock was, except to say, it’s best measured using this function.

Another friend mentioned that he was doing a search the other day on his old company’s website, eGroups. The top results were all pictures of penises—the exact same problem they had back when he worked there.

The internet never changes. Gotta ❤ it!

Web development as torture

Apparently one commenter found my April Fools articleham-handed.”

ham-hand⋅ed
clumsy, inept, or heavy-handed: a ham-handed approach to dealing with people that hurts a lot of feelings.

I’m sorry that some people didn’t realize that an article was meant to show off someone else’s April Fool’s prank. I guess the snippets of code showing the joke, putting it in the “humor” category, and adding the words “april phails phools” to the URL just wasn’t enough for some people 🙁

Next time, in order to prevent hurt feelings, I’ll be sure splay across the top the words: “Look, Phails is an April Fools Joke, Please don’t take it seriously (pretty please?)” in 42-point Charcoal typeface.

On second thought, why bother? 37Signals has me beat in the tact and sensitivity department. Notice how they introduce Ruby on Rails as…

The very definition of integrity

Great moments in Truth in Advertising™ just ask Twitter.

(And when I replied that this was madness, he kicked me into some CAT-5 ethernet cabling with the words, “THIS IS SPARTA!!!”)

(I heard that Web development is so hard that Rasmus had John Yoo write up a torture memo lest any Guantamano detainees put up a website between waterboarding sessions.)

Thank God, that I learned Ruby on Rails so I no longer have to deal with the pain of writing a SQL select.