Monday Funnies

FMIM:

So your weekly antidote follows:

And to round things off, your dose of beauty, Jennifer:

She was in one of my classes at UNT, age about 45 when this pic was taken.  Sometimes I miss being a student.

Roses

I have written before about how I can get confused by well-known women who either look like each other or who have similar-sounding names (follow the links for a full and ahem scientific explanation).

Here’s another one.  There are two well-known women (“well-known” in the pages of the Daily Mail at least) who confuse me utterly — until, that is, I see their picture.  They have the same last name (Rose) with first names of Ruby and Demi, respectively, and thus confuse me utterly if I’m just reading text (“Now which one is that?”).  An easy difficulty to encounter, I think we can all agree, especially as neither seems to have done anything of note (e.g. won an Oscar, found a cure for cancer or married a member of some royal family).

Once you see pictures of said Roses, however, it becomes a lot easier, because Ruby looks like this:

   

…while Demi looks quite different:

  

Of course, to me they both look (and from what I can tell, behave) like prostitutes;  but while Ruby actually has a more  interesting face, at least Demi isn’t covered with ink:

  

But it’s all a question of personal preference, of course, and yours may well differ from mine.  Right now, all I have to remember is:  Ruby = tattoos, Demi = curves, and that’s how I can keep them differentiated.

Good Question

A while ago, the Daily Mail raised an interesting point:

How much pain would YOU tolerate for booze?
Heavy drinkers will put up with uncomfortable electric shocks to get their alcohol fix, study finds

Granted, I’m not a “heavy drinker” (I’m fat and I like a drink, but that’s the extent of it), so I’m not really in the target demographic, but it is nevertheless an interesting topic for conjecture.

Let’s change the methodology a tad (ignoring that violent electric shock nonsense), and ask instead:  how much inconvenience and/or discomfort would you put up with in order to get your favorite booze down your throat?

Myself:  quite a bit.  I have been known to walk a considerable distance to get a decent pint of ale into me:  I dimly recall once trudging across The Englishman’s muddy fields in the rain towards The King’s Arms at All Cannings (or maybe I was trudging back — Wadworth’s 6X has a way of affecting the memory), which was both uncomfortable and inconvenient.  Don’t even ask how much I’ve trodden the sidewalks of e.g. Edinburgh, London, Johannesburg, Vienna, Paris etc. just to have some beer, wine, gin or Scotch, as the locale warranted.

And because Plano is lamentably bereft of pubs that serve good British ale, I have to drive nearly to Dallas —  all the way south to Addison’s The Londoner — just for a pint of Fuller’s London Pride:  a fair amount of inconvenience, I think you’ll agree.

But forget pain.  Anyone who’s ever experienced chronic gout — the effects of which are exacerbated by booze — would probably join me in saying “Fuck, no!” if offered a gin while suffering a gout attack.  I suppose that’s what differentiates me from being a heavy drinker to being a simple (and occasional) drunk.

Your thoughts in Comments, as usual…

 

5 Worst Things You Can Say In A Business Email

In ascending order of “you’re gonna get fired”:

  • “Screw what H.R. says.”
  • “When I was in San Quentin…”
  • “My project will come in well over budget and a year late.”  (unless you’re a liberal politician, in which case you’ll be just fine;  you might even get a promotion)
  • “I’m sorry about the affair with your wife, but…”  (bonus points if you’re a woman)
  • “On our next business trip together, bring some edible panties… again.”

Your contributions in Comments.  Bonus points if your contribution ever got you actually fired.

Stopping Violence With Violence

This happened in Florida recently:

A man involved in a fight with another person at Isaac Campbell Park left the scene and returned several minutes later, around 5:20 p.m., with a gun and opened fire on the crowd.
A bystander, who was licensed to carry a firearm, shot the suspect and waited for authorities to arrive. [emphasis added]
The gunman, whose firearm was recovered from the scene, was airlifted to a hospital with life-threatening injuries.

Pardon me for being bloodthirsty, but I hope the fucker dies.

[waits for applause and hoots of approval to die down]

Yeah, let’s hear it for the fools who think that only the cops should be carrying guns.  And the media fails, as usual, by not informing the public what Our Hero used to shoot the choirboy: the gun, the bullet caliber / type, single shot or double tap — you know, the useful stuff.  Idiots.