Proof I'm a Schlub, Earth Day and National Library Week's personal non-activity, the grenade incident, other tidbits

BLOT: (23 Apr 2011 - 02:20:54 AM)

Proof I'm a Schlub, Earth Day and National Library Week's personal non-activity, the grenade incident, other tidbits

I've known I was a schlub for a while, but seeing this towel nails it. I know what you ar asking: "But, Doug, don't you worry that you might rub the ass-portion of your towel against your face?" My first thought is, "You mean my freshly-showered-ass portion?" In principle I get it. Had a roommate once who said that always first used his bath cloth in his groin and moved on from there, and I felt that was a bit weird. I guess my self-teabagging prejudice ends with the shower, though, and drying utensils are fair game.

What else do I have in my bag of tricks? Nothing. Nada. I'm tired, fair Reader. Nine hours on shift today, with bonus big homework assignment. Tomorrow is taken up by parts of two assignments and some work from home stuff. Sunday is back to a full day on desk with homework squeezed in between answering questions. Finals are hard working both sides of the desk, but not impossible. And kind of fun in their marathon aspects. I do want to get some sort of hike in tomorrow. And by hike I mean a leisurely stroll around South Loop, maybe. Not a HIKE hike.

Oh, I have been tooling around with the Dvorak layout. It is kind of neat. I'm not sure if it will give me much utility but something about retraining my brain feels like it is worthwhile. This post, by the way, was NOT typed using that layout...though this sentence was.

I mostly schlubbed out of both National Library Week and Earth Day this year. I usually like to try to at least acknowledge them. Ah, well. I got some neat bookmarks that both went to support the ALA and fulfills my weird, and I swear I know it is weird, bookmark fetish. Not fetish. I just like having too many bookmarks. I don't collect them, or keep them pristine, I use them. I just, it makes me happy. Stop judging, or I'll tell mom about your "Socks I steal from the laundromat" collection.

Well, I guess it is about time for me to be deep asleep, but before I go I do have one little weird story that got brought up tonight and I thought I would share it. I used to room with a guy named Dan, and the house owner was a guy named Darren. Dan and I ended up on bad terms, sure, but for awhile we got along and hung out fairly often. Before I moved in with Dan, Darren stayed at the house, and the two of them would have lots of random conversations. One day, Dan or Darren (I forget which) was playing around with a de-cored grenade—think shell of a grenade but it has the pin and the other bits—and then, in the middle, just playacted like they took the pin out on accident and dropped it. It was even intended to break conversation, just a grown man playing Army, basically. Except, I KNEW that thing was safe, but my brain did this weird, "I'VE SEEN MOVIES!!!" thing and I had to wait a second or two to override my urge to fling myself behind a sofa. Had I done so, I'm sure it would have been great fun. Note: behind the sofa, not on top of the grenade. Sorry guys, I guess you didn't pass the "They're so cool I'd take a grenade for them" test.

I'll just drop this link about what North Alabama's freshmen Senators are up doing, and then bid you adieu.

OTHER BLOTS THIS MONTH: April 2011