Links
- My School
- Homestar Runner
- Penny Arcade
- "The Best Page in the Universe"
- Overcompensating
- Joe And Monkey
- Dr. McNinja
- Mac Hall
- Scary Go Round
- Diesel Sweeties
- Questionable Content
- Men in Hats
- RPG World
- CONDOMS
- Rob and Elliot
- Sam and Fuzzy /
Archives
- 09/01/2003 - 10/01/2003
- 10/01/2003 - 11/01/2003
- 11/01/2003 - 12/01/2003
- 12/01/2003 - 01/01/2004
- 01/01/2004 - 02/01/2004
- 02/01/2004 - 03/01/2004
- 03/01/2004 - 04/01/2004
- 04/01/2004 - 05/01/2004
- 05/01/2004 - 06/01/2004
- 06/01/2004 - 07/01/2004
- 07/01/2004 - 08/01/2004
- 08/01/2004 - 09/01/2004
- 09/01/2004 - 10/01/2004
- 10/01/2004 - 11/01/2004
- 11/01/2004 - 12/01/2004
- 12/01/2004 - 01/01/2005
- 01/01/2005 - 02/01/2005
- 02/01/2005 - 03/01/2005
- 03/01/2005 - 04/01/2005
- 04/01/2005 - 05/01/2005
- 05/01/2005 - 06/01/2005
- 06/01/2005 - 07/01/2005
- 07/01/2005 - 08/01/2005
- 08/01/2005 - 09/01/2005
- 09/01/2005 - 10/01/2005
- 10/01/2005 - 11/01/2005
- 11/01/2005 - 12/01/2005
- 12/01/2005 - 01/01/2006
- 01/01/2006 - 02/01/2006
- 02/01/2006 - 03/01/2006
- 03/01/2006 - 04/01/2006
- 04/01/2006 - 05/01/2006
- 05/01/2006 - 06/01/2006
- 08/01/2006 - 09/01/2006
- 11/01/2006 - 12/01/2006
- 07/01/2007 - 08/01/2007
- 08/01/2007 - 09/01/2007
Come for the lesbians, stay for the blog!
Tuesday, December 16, 2003
Elevators can be awkward
So, I had this orthodontists appointment today, right? Like, y'know, to get new thingamagigs on my braces. By the way, read the new Cosmopolitan; an article in there says braces: totally, sexy.
Actually, that's not true, as far as I know. I've never read Cosmopolitan. The rest is true though.
Anyway, on the way back from the orthodontist, I had to take the elevator from the 8th floor. So, I dinged the button, or I pressed it, really. And it came eventually, and I was hoping no one would be in it, because I wanted to try doing pullups on this little ledge right as the elevator accelerated downward. But I couldn't, because this guy was in there.
And that sucks, because some strange law of physics says that when two people are in an elevator, they immediately become socially inept automatons, capable only of staring at the buttons next to the door. What's with that, anyway? I guess it's an extension of the whole New York additude: you know, avoid eye contact and touching, and keep communication at its most perfunctory state. See, that's easy when you're on the subway, reading a book or playing Sub Hunt on you Palm Pilot, or if you're rushing to a power luncheon across town. But it gets suddenly harder when you're trapped with a stranger in a 6 by 6 box, moving in directions Man was... never meant to go.
So, as the elevator filled up at different floors, it became persistently harder to avoid eye contact, but somehow, we all did it. This rule is rather inconvenient and makes everyone vaguely uneasy. I bet in more sensical countries, like Canada or New Hampshire, they have a comfortable alternative. Perhaps they engage in light conversation about the various temperatures and precipitation of their village, or maybe they take a a fast-acting sedative, which puts them to sleep for those vital eleven seconds. And THAT'S like time travel. You get in the elevator, you take the pill, or the elevator is filled with sleeping gas, and you awake, and you're 25 stories higher up! Wouldn't that be great?
Anyway, I have history homework to do. Something about Muslims. Three of them, actually. See, these three Muslims walk into a bar. When they awake, they're 25 stories higher up!
Nicky
The E-MAIL, E-MAIL, E-MAIL, E-MAIL! Okayeahwhatever@yahoo.com.
Actually, that's not true, as far as I know. I've never read Cosmopolitan. The rest is true though.
Anyway, on the way back from the orthodontist, I had to take the elevator from the 8th floor. So, I dinged the button, or I pressed it, really. And it came eventually, and I was hoping no one would be in it, because I wanted to try doing pullups on this little ledge right as the elevator accelerated downward. But I couldn't, because this guy was in there.
And that sucks, because some strange law of physics says that when two people are in an elevator, they immediately become socially inept automatons, capable only of staring at the buttons next to the door. What's with that, anyway? I guess it's an extension of the whole New York additude: you know, avoid eye contact and touching, and keep communication at its most perfunctory state. See, that's easy when you're on the subway, reading a book or playing Sub Hunt on you Palm Pilot, or if you're rushing to a power luncheon across town. But it gets suddenly harder when you're trapped with a stranger in a 6 by 6 box, moving in directions Man was... never meant to go.
So, as the elevator filled up at different floors, it became persistently harder to avoid eye contact, but somehow, we all did it. This rule is rather inconvenient and makes everyone vaguely uneasy. I bet in more sensical countries, like Canada or New Hampshire, they have a comfortable alternative. Perhaps they engage in light conversation about the various temperatures and precipitation of their village, or maybe they take a a fast-acting sedative, which puts them to sleep for those vital eleven seconds. And THAT'S like time travel. You get in the elevator, you take the pill, or the elevator is filled with sleeping gas, and you awake, and you're 25 stories higher up! Wouldn't that be great?
Anyway, I have history homework to do. Something about Muslims. Three of them, actually. See, these three Muslims walk into a bar. When they awake, they're 25 stories higher up!
Nicky
The E-MAIL, E-MAIL, E-MAIL, E-MAIL! Okayeahwhatever@yahoo.com.