I’m just gonna leave this here for y’all.
I’m just gonna leave this here for y’all.
Mine too, Leela. Mine too.
I think I've said before that science is just non-fiction for your imagination. So science is just boring imagination, and thus math is boring boring imagination. No wonder so many kids drop out of STEM related courses.
Missed yesterday (again), so there'll be a day with two comics sometime this week. Thanks.
PHD UNKNOWN: New page up! A glorious splash page!
Explains so much!
"Well, we finally chased the human race back to a few scattered caves and threw down their puny civilization. What do we do now?"
"Let’s build giant indestructible glass dicks literally everywhere!"
Sarah, #TeamRickman! And totes!
I was talking to a girlfriend about how you could divide everyone in the world into people who do or do not have a crush on Alan Rickman and she agreed, saying, “Oh he’s hot. I would totes swipe right for him.”
And I was like, “Ew. You should already be wiping right. Do you not wipe unless you think you’re going to get lucky? Because that’s how you get a urinary tract infection.”
Turns out that she said she’d “swipe right” which is apparently what you do on the Tinder dating app when you like someone’s picture and are interested in them. That made more sense but I can’t help but think that maybe some of these people are single because of communication issues like this where you never have a second date because the person thinks you don’t wipe correctly. Long story short, I think Tinder is trying to keep people single in order to keep up demand for their product.
PS. Please wipe correctly.
PPS. Also, stop using the word “totes.” Unless you’re using it ironically. Or you’re talking about plural tote bags.
I'm so there!
ALL HAIL HYPNOCAT
HYPNOCAT THANKS YOU FOR YOUR SUPPORT BUT ORDERS YOU TO TEMPORARILY FORGET ABOUT REGAL
That iguana is waaay nicer than that a**hole one we had at McWane.
I WENT TO THE CAFE DOWN THE STREET AND THERE WERE A BUNCH OF PEOPLE THERE CELEBRATING THIS LIZARDS BIRTHDAY
HE HAS A LITTLE PARTY HAT
You and my girlfriend think alike. There was a… disagreement on whether or not the book should contain even more Regal.
A few days ago we posted about science trying to understand the "if I fits" mentality of cats.
We agreed that cats are weird and you all submitted some awesome memes on the subject.
Here are some of the best.
"Dancing Pyres of Igneous Doom" is the name of my next band.
Yeah, I like magma cones much better. In my head they’ll always be dancing pyres of igneous doom.
Sharing for 1) the lyrics, and 2) Lynch's comments. Love both!
Us Camorri Girls
Fancy skirts, with daggers on top
Long red hair, so hot
We’ll melt your popsicle
Now put your hands up.
No, seriously, put your hands up. Now give me your money. Good.
Okay, I recognize the Katy Perry costume, and the sharks, no problem. I recognize the dancing surfboards. But what the shmeckity-hell are those scaly red things? Are they meant to be crabs? Another masterpiece, Picasso. Are they shrimp? Are they… magma cones? Is this whole dance number about how the ocean is thick with cruel and indifferent predators, and how even that is meaningless in the face of inevitable geothermal upheaval? That would be pretty amazing, and significantly more lyrically challenging than “Firework,” I gotta say.
Dragons burn, coffee burns. I figure caffeine headaches are equivalent to being impaled on a dragon. I could be wrong but do you have a dragon nearby to allow me to scientifically test my theory?
WIRED: I was asked a few months ago to join a group that is contributing to WIRED magazine for their Chartgeist segment, and I got a chart accepted for their April issue. It is quite possibly the dumbest chart I have ever come up with, but I now will have had my work in a national publication. So there's that!
Posted by Instagrate to WordPress
Ugh. Today, goddammit. Those days where you semi-emerge from a period of bad anxiety and all the wonderful artifacts of depression, and discover all the Things That Need Doing. Oh shit, not the goat too… !
Okay, so I missed this when it was first posted, and don't need to read through all of the Scalzi-fan comments. But I did want to comment on the pain-thing.
I prefer NOT to get the novocain shot when getting something drilled. Why, you ask? Do I enjoy pain? NO, I do not. That is why I don't get the shot. 1) The shot hurts like the bejeezus, and 2) I still feel everything with the drilling because novocain does not work for me, other than making me feel all discombobulated about where parts of my face are.
So, if I get a shot, I have the pain of the shot, AND the pain of the drilling, PLUS weird face crap. No shot means just the pain of the drilling (which they can put a local on the nerve ending when they get to it).
I was at the dentist’s yesterday to get a small filling done, and while I was there the dentist, his assistant and I had a discussion about painkillers, and the fact that some people — not a huge number but not an infinitesimally small number either — prefer not to use them when getting their teeth drilled. The thinking there, as far as I can tell, is that the momentary displeasure of a high speed drill on your tooth is not worth either a needle being jabbed into your gums, or having half your face numb for a couple of hours, or both.
I personally think this is incomprehensible — please, numb me up and numb me up good — but I’m also aware that my tolerance for pain is not, shall we say, Olympic.
So let me ask you: When at the dentist, do you prefer to be numbed up into oblivion? Or do you prefer to ride it out without the Novocaine? Or does it depend on the procedure? I’m genuinely curious. Let me know in the comments.
Well, the real secret is that when Locke leaves the map room feeling awesome about himself, that’s when the curator slips back in and removes the “Locke’s World” signs that had temporarily been placed over all the “Sabethavania” signs.
It’s like walking in a sunlit meadow and discovering a basket of kittens, and then the Free Cupcake Truck drives by, just in time for the twenty-dollar bills to start raining from the sky.
This would be the kind of thing to bring down a Rebellion.
Yep. And a tiny little mobster that I ADORE.
We now know the true reason cats are assholes - they just want our coffee, beer, and pizza!
I AM SO METAL.
Wow. WOW. Yes, yes, yes. Hits home a bit hard for me.
Outside Voice is a series of stories by anonymous writers who need a safe space to share them. The following piece was written by a friend and reader of Schmutzie.com, and I am honoured to publish her story here.
When I got pregnant the first time, I didn't know the kind of pain I was in for.
I knew, of course, that pregnancy could be awful and that labour and delivery would surely be no picnic. Then there's the whole recovery and getting used to looking after a baby thing, which can be so, so, awful. And that's just with your standard, no complications, pregnancy and labour. There are so many things that can pile on top of that.
When my daughter was in kindergarten, she had HSP, which is an over active immune reaction. She was in pain for months, with bruising all over her legs and lower back and swelling in her joints. There was a period where she couldn't eat or walk. I carried her from place to place, any movement that jarred her legs causing her to cry. She spent some time in hospital on anti-nausea drugs while drinking Ensure, because she'd lost five of her thirty-five pounds. We had to take her to specialists to make sure her liver was still functioning. We were thrilled when she was able to keep food down, and cheered when she actually requested to eat. My heart broke a hundred times a day for her.
There is an entirely different pain though, that comes with children.
She likes to tuck her pants into her socks because she finds the feel of them moving against her legs as she walks irritating.
"Some girls at school told me ten things that I should do to avoid being bullied. They said I need to get new clothes. I like my clothes though. I decided I don't want to do any of them, because then I wouldn't be me anymore."
Now in grade four, my baby's mind wanders. She is easily distracted, she has big emotions and huge reactions. She is not great with transitions, which there are a lot of at school. She assumes that everyone she meets is a friend, and she's not great at picking up cues that maybe they aren't.
"What does 'spaz' mean?"
"In what context?"
"Well, some kids at school called me that today. And no one would tell me what it meant."
She reads two novels a day, and she has trouble pulling herself out of a book with no warning. She takes forever to get ready to go anywhere. She doesn't always have the best sense of time and doesn't realise that she's been doing something for an hour if there are no visual cues. She gets frustrated when people don't understand what she is saying, and that can lead to temper tantrums. All of this also causes trouble at school.
And I'm torn. I understand the dilemma of her teachers. I really do. You can't focus all your attention on one kid out of 25. You can't take time out from your day to deal with frustrations and tantrums. You can't be everywhere at once. You can't stop kids from saying hurtful things when you're not around. I understand all that.
That doesn't make it better when my child is in tears telling me that her classmates laughed at her. Or that they've started calling her something new and she doesn't know what it means either.
"They don't do it in front of the teachers, Mummy. I guess they don't want them to hear it."
She has been tested, and the verdict was that she does not have ADHD. She does not have enough of the markers to be diagnosed with Aspergers. She is Gifted, with a Learning Disability. What does any of this mean? It means that her classmates think she is weird and don't hesitate to tell her so.
"Sometimes, I feel like they want to wash their hands after they work with me."
This is the pain I wasn't prepared for. The pain of wanting to protect my daughter's spirit, and knowing that I really can't. I want to help her fit in so that her days will be easier, but I worry that in fitting in, she will be losing parts of her that make her who she is. I worry that, as I did, she might strive so hard to fit in that she'll realise one day she doesn't know who she is.
If I'm being entirely honest, her fitting in would also make my life easier. I wouldn't have to sit with an understanding face on while I listen to her tell me about these things. I wouldn't have to try to come up with the reasoned, calm reactions that I hope to model for her to emulate, while inside I'm crying for her and raging at the kids who think that treating someone this way is alright. My heart breaks for them, too, since I really don't believe that this kind of behaviour comes out of nowhere. I wouldn't be sitting at home after a phone call with a teacher who seems more interested in making her conform than in finding ways to work with her differences.
"You know what, Mummy? If everyone was the same, there would never be any inventions, or good stories. I'm glad I'm different."
I also struggle, because in a world where children laugh at one another's struggles, or judge them for the way they wear their pants, I don't really want my kid to fit in. I'm glad that she is strong enough to understand that different is good, and kindness is always best, and I hope with all my heart that she manages to stay that way.
In a world where a teacher assures me that "the kids are really great with her" because they are learning to ignore a person, instead of learning to understand that everyone is different in their own way, I don't want to fit in either.
I'm taking part in NaBloPoMo, National Blog Posting Month, during which I am publishing a blog post every single day during the month of November.
Check out the NaBloPoMo blogroll.
Click through - it's bigger on the inside, and made of LEGO!
Sarah, have you not seen this?