Happy belated birthday, Ogged (if you are reading this).
this week was my bday, i read somewhere that the birthday is the lowest point biorythmically, so the week also felt like that, i wonder how was ogged's
i read somewhere that the birthday is the lowest point biorythmically,
I was listening to a parent of two toddlers talk about how the birthdays were the calmest stretch of each year, and the half-birthdays were difficult periods, so that 1, 2, 3 were easy ages but 1.5, 2.5, 3.5 were crazy-making. I assumed she suffered from Restless Homemaker Overscrutinizes Their Kids Syndrome, but maybe there's something to it.
I also didn't know it was Ogged's birthday. I also didn't know that everyone contributed to a mysterious gift certificate to French Laundry.
9.3: neither are true: they're trying to trick you.
Okay, I didn't know either. It's awfully nice of ogged's mom to come and visit him on his birthday.
Happy birthday, birthday people.
9: It may have been before you were a regular. O-man never got off the dime--the gift certificate was for when we thought he was gonna have his stomach removed in addition to his testicles.
Ah. Back when I was a shy, timid lurker.
Happy birthday, ogged-dude. I am also about to hit the annual biorhythmic low.
Happy birthday Ogged and read. God bless us all, said Tiny Tim.
Hmmm, possibility that I share a b-day with ogged. Favorite gift was this, which is simulataneously much worse and much better than I might have imagined.
Happy birthday, ogged. May you see at least three more.
You got him a gift certificate to a $250/person restaurant when you thought he wasn't going to have a stomach? (I was around then but must have, uh, missed the gift part...)
thank you all, i won't tell, i mean my age
and i congratulated all with their birthdays on the new year day if you remember
for three more years, i'd recommend again the swimming suit cloth for cancer prevention
really, it costs just like a dinner in the FL and all you need to do is sleep on those or just keep it on your body all the time
22: Not quite like giving a bulimic a gift certificate to an all-you-can-eat buffet. But close.
I'm with read; everybody chip in and buy ogged a wetsuit to wear day and night.
forgot to include the link
http://www.bio-rubber.com/catalog/about_product4.php
You got him a gift certificate to a $250/person restaurant when you thought he wasn't going to have a stomach? (I was around then but must have, uh, missed the gift part...)
The idea was that it would either be a great last "real" meal, or it would be somewhere they could make me a great special meal.
If you get a catsuit near a wetsuit, does it freak out?
27: so you really were going to lose your stomach? Glad you dodged that bullet, dude.
Reading the archives has never sounded so upsetting.
OK, I'm confused.
The "BIO RUBBER" produced from the stones and rocks is made of the high purity limestone containing over 99.7% calcium carbonate.
(Probably just a failure of my chemical imagination.)
so you really were going to lose your stomach?
That's what they'd told me, yeah.
the remaining 0.3% is like a top secret metal which exudes biowaves or what
well, the japanese believe in that, at least, my prof
Turns out it was just behind the couch, though.
So I get this email from someone who has been accepted into the program for next year. Roughly: "Dear Prof Gonerill, My name is Melvin, You are the most awesome person ever, your work asks the necessary questions of our age which few ask, and for which answers are needed for the Good Society to thrive. In particular your research on X is awesome. Please can I have some summer work. Yours, Melvin."
A few minutes later two colleagues come into my office saying "We each just got this email ..." Verbatim except for the one sentence about particular work.
Prospectives have an odd image of life inside a department. I think they imagine people as some species of monad, never communicating with anyone else. Our plan is for everyone to respond saying "Thanks! Here's 40 hours a week of work! Let's go!"
Our plan is for everyone to respond saying "Thanks! Here's 40 hours a week of work! Let's go!"
Please do that for real.
36 is hilarious, especially as I just wrote text for my organization's website that tried to strike the balance betweeen friendly and appropriately intimidating, asking people please for heaven's sake don't write to more than one person in a 12-person organization.
I am crossing my fingers that it works, but wondering whether there is a high correlation the obliviousness described by Gonerill and the lack of patience or awareness needed to comprehend a single line of bolded text at the top of the Contact Us page.
Hoo boy, I should be more optimistic.
Back when I was a shy, timid lurker.
See, that's the advantage of lurking before you just jump in. No comments = no email = no "SEND MONEY NOW" demands.
Or you could do like SP and just comment without giving anyone your email addy.
25: Ogged needs two wetsuits. And a dildo.
Oudemia, did you mean he needs a dildo, or he is one?
43 would work better, or at all, if there were any way of construing 41 on which oudemia might have meant that ogged is a dildo.
I included my email on the first 5 or so comments I made, back in 2006. If it was a really important message you could have looked it up.
45: Still the littlest bitch on the internets.
45: Dildos like to stick with their own kind.
46: It was just about Ogged dying. So not that important, no.
42: Yes. Your republican conversion with only then be complete.
Unless someone can hook you up with a special Pope-led conversion ceremony.
Ogged is a man who needs two wetsuits. And a dildo.
Prospectives have an odd image of life inside a department. I think they imagine people as some species of monad, never communicating with anyone else.
Well, if you substitute "students" for "anyone"...
about Ogged dying
i once contemplated a suicide by freezing in the wilds
open steppe, all white and quiet and beautiful, at first you'd feel of course very cold, then the final stages would be not that bad, even they say it feels warm, a very peaceful reincarnation :)
a joke, fyi
50- Yeah, probably would have gone straight in the spam folder. "Hello, I am a friend of Ogged from Iran who may have stomach cancer. Please to consider making a contributiion to a fund for the purpose of which is to help him eat an expensive restaurant."
Actually it was more like "Please donate now, or God will call Ogged back to him." But yeah, same thing in the end.
Should the last line of 55 have gone on Standpipe's blog? I submit the answer is no, because it doesn't merely explain a joke, but transform a non-joke.
As an infrequent poster, reading things like this make me feel like the little match girl, knowing my birthday will never end up on anybody's calendar.
59: get stomach cancer, then maybe we'll pay attention to you.
I'm pretty sure that the feeling of exclusion actually causes cancer. Fingers crossed.
60: But ogged never had stomach cancer, Sifu. It was all a sham. In the end he didn't even lose a whole kidney.
But we learned our lesson, and won't be fooled again next time.
Now Brock here, by keeping us in the dark as to what his tragic and gruesome illness is, has excited months' worth of sympathy, and might not be sick at all.
Just like in the best horror films...don't show the monster until the end, if at all. Suspense is the thing.
63: Aside from the fact that I've become thin as a rail and am possibly still thinning, a problem that no amount of sustained gorging has been able to cure, I'm actually doing very well, thanks.
Brock, were you recently cursed by a gypsy?
I think they imagine people as some species of monad, never communicating with anyone else.
I was able to avoid a part of my oral exam preparation precisely because I figured there was little chance of not just 1, or 2, but 3 of the members of my committee would all realize it hadn't been scheduled. I did fine on the exam and that was that.
Brock, were you recently cursed by a gypsy?
If you were: don't have sex! You'll lose your soul.
64: Well, WTF was the diagnosis? Did they find a tapeworm? And what about Becks' little stroke-like episode? Sheesh!
Is it possible that I have been cursed by a gypsy without my knoweldge?
Thankfully I am married so don't need to worry about sex.
68: they didn't yet find the tapeworm, the sneaky bastard. I did, however, get one of these, which is one of the best decisions I've ever made.
I too missed Ogged's birthday. Wait. Was this why he went to that fancy French laundromat?
Brock, that site is strangely convincing.
Brock, that site is strangely convincing.
When I was a kid I saw someone on "the Mike Douglas show" talking about that. Mike Douglas seemed convinced.
73: I'm convinced too. However, there's no way (after the fucking docs and their fucking meds have messed up my ability to balance) I'd get up on that thing without ending up in the ER.
Frankly, I'm surprised more bloggers haven't pulled the oh-i'm-dying-give-me-money-for-one-last-meal-thank-you-oh-now-i'm-all-better scam. Surely we're not the only gullible commetariat around.
75: I have a sinus infection. I'd like to go here, please.
You idiots, I told you it was ogged's birthday.
Of course, I buried it, and in the form of a question, because the exact date was unclear, but going to the French Laundry with your mom coming in to town was a giant red flag. It's not as though ogged sounds like he does that stuff every day.
77 is awesome.
Only after seeing Brock's 70 does Ogged's squatting-on-the-toilet-seat-blowjob become remotely plausible. Maybe Larry Craig has a portable one?
68 - Oh, and to answer your question about the stroke-like episode: six weeks of tests and no real diagnosis. None of the doctors are entirely sure what happened but the best guess is a migraine equivalent (essentially a migraine with the other symptoms but no headache.)
77 is great. I half-pulled this, back when I was totally impoverished and mentioned this. Like ten of you soft-hearted suckers offered me a big fat loan, even some who don't know me IRL. I could have made away with thousands of dollars, you guys.
Of course, I did really need the money, and of course I ended up borrowing from Mom instead of taking advantage of you lovely people. Mom has pretty good recourse to hunting me down. I was finally able to pay her back a few weeks ago.
Brock's 70: that posture is common at least among Laotian immigrants to the United States I once knew. My boyfriend's mom was an ESL teacher who hosted families, as well as a huge annual outdoor bash for these friends, and we Americans were challenged to sit in the proper manner. As in Brock's 70. To the tune of much laughter, since most Americans fell over after a minute or two.
WILL not with.
Being self-absorbed, I spent 10 seconds trying to figure out what oudemia was saying about me.
Also, heebie made me laugh with the catsuit/wetsuit. I am so easy.
Where is the new Becks location? (Is that super-secret?)
As far as I know the American posture is the exception, and the Lao posture generally prevalent.
That squat is tremendously comfortable, and with practice can be held for hours and hours.
87: 'Twas popular at parties without enough seating during the '60s, perhaps as an unconscious tribute to the Viet Cong. I could stay in it or quite some time. Now? Not.
I remember this coming up in the Bosnia war, there had to be separate toilet facilities for US soldiers or something. I'd like to hear what Hillary and Sinbad have to say about it.
87: Sifu is always revealing new facets of his multitalented self.
re: 87
I have a slight tear in the meniscus on one of my knees. Squatting gets pretty uncomfortable after a while.
70: I just read the site, and now I kind of want one, much to my surprise.
That squat is tremendously comfortable, and with practice can be held for hours and hours.
You could buy one of the platforms and use it as your computer chair, rather than placing it around the toilet.
You could buy one of those platforms, and move your computer into the bathroom.
You know what you need with a piece of ice the size of Connecticut? A glass the size of Maine, and a bottle of bourbon the size of Lake Michigan.
92 is exactly right. I'd like to get one for my office.
You could buy one of those platforms, and move your computer into the bathroom.
My bathroom is too small, but I suggest that this would present an opportunity for w-lfs-n to do groundbreaking research into the efficacy of balancing on a nature's platform and masturbating to online porn on the bathroom computer.
If I had to go to the bathroom every time I wanted to masturbate, I'd never get anything done.
During my freshman year at UNC, some guy from the Revolutionary Communist Party was sitting in the Pit with a blanket full of Avakian books and related paraphenalia liberally festooned with pictures of Mao. A good-sized collection of Chinese students had gathered around in a semi-circle, politely arguing with him, and every last one of them was squatted down in exactly that position for the dialogue. At the time, between the knees just below their their ears and the brainload of THC I was processing, I thought they looked like cartoon frogs.
A lot of honkies can't sit in that position. It's very comfortable, but not very dignified.
99: Racist.
(just saving y'all the trouble)
Where is the new Becks location? (Is that super-secret?)
DC full-time.
And you forgot my son's birthday, too, Becks. Admittedly, it wasn't on your calendar, no one told you about it and you don't even know the kid, despite the fact that he's taken to blogging about the economy on his MySpace page, rather than music. But still, it's one of those six-degrees thingies - the Offspring has cooked with Thomas Keller, you have eaten with Ogged [or, at least, with B-Wo, who has eaten with Ogged], Ogged has eaten at Keller's restaurant - how more intimate a connection could you have with the Offspring??
Just to heighten the guilt you must surely be feeling by now, I spent all day in the kitchen yesterday, making the Offspring a Death-by-Chocolate birthday cake [chocolate cake, chocolate mousse, chocolate ganache, topped with crushed pistachio brittle], focaccia, chicken parmigiana [with burrata, not mozarella] and a simple salad. But do I begrudge my child that effort, even tho' you, Becks, were whiling your time away in D.C., oblivious to this important occasion? I do not. Just make sure that you enter it into your calendar for next year.
You still haven't said when your son's birthday was, though.
Ben, I did say that I spent all day yesterday in the kitchen. It is possible to infer from that that his birthday way most likely yesterday, and deduce from the date stamp that yesterday was the 26th. I, for one, make my focaccia on the day I serve it, not before, as it is never better than when newly wrested from the depths of a very hot oven.
Sometimes celebratory meals take place not on the day celebrated.
Picky, picky. But you might further infer from the fact that this was a week night, rather than a weekend, when most people are more free to dine, and that I castigated Becks for not remembering the date, whilst I slaved away in a hot kitchen did, that it was, indeed, the Offspring's birthday.