My (ugly) Ceramic Tile Kitchen Floor. It came with the apartment.
Last Haircut: 8 weeks ago
Day of Week: Friday
Time of Day: Noon
Salon Bustle: Moderate
Stylist Demeanor: Cordial, warm, flirty
Physical Contact: High (shoulder and arm grabs; neck blowing.)
Quotes from Stylist: "You are my nicest customer. All my others bitch." "You don't have to celebrate; just gamble." "That's why I don't wear it everyday. People don't notice when it's gone." "I don't want your wife to think I clawed you."
Tip: $5.00
A few weeks ago, Mark shared a link that tells one how bypass all the automated BS when trying to contact various corporations and actually speak to a person.
Remember the father in "Charlie and the Chocolate Factory" who, as a dentist, deprives his son Charlie of all things sweet? Well, I've discovered the real deal: my wife's orthodontist. We received a strange letter from him last week; excerpts follow.
Can you guess what this is a part of in my apartment? If you guess correct you can win a prize of your choice (read comments section for details). I'll announce winner of Friday evening...
After a couple week absence, we would like to welcome back the weekly digest. And there's no better time since we're celebrating something of a milestone here at GUTSY: publishing our 200th article.
Guido Alvarez presented a terrier that has a habit while Ann Whitehurst formed an unlikely alliance between chrome-dome and mullet. Evan Mann saw mouse ears after finishing a beer. Sandie Maxa showed how split pants aid no-fuss waste disposal and had no trouble overhearing the complaints of her neighbor at 36,000 feet. Mark Sanders mixed pet urine and cooking, listened to some boasting and rhyming, found a new way to destroy a camera and sought a new name for big mother hurricanes. By the way, Paul Pereira hates Ebay.
Have a great weekend and tell a friend about GUTSY.
As travelers streamed on the plane I was taking from Houston to New York last Saturday, I sighed with relief as the two seats next to mine remained empty. Could I be lucky enough to get a whole row to myself for this three and a half hour flight? No.
Just as the National Hurricane Center has run out names for storms this year, it seems the media is also having trouble describing the unprecedented magnitude and size of this season's hurricanes. With each new uber-storm the same label hits the headlines: MONSTER. That got me thinking – is this truly the best term to describe the ferocity and wrath of global-warming angered storms, or just like their differing names, should each storm get its own cataclysmic noun?
I am very critical when critiquing photography. And new digital techniques generally are met with my sour disapproval. However, I've just seen something quite remarkable on the photo-sharing website Flickr. Under the tag "camera toss" there is an entire portfolio of images made by (presumably) throwing a digital camera into the air with the shutter held open.
I like rap. And there are a lot of reasons why I do. But I don't like it to be overly sexual or degrading or violent. However, I sure enjoy an inventive drop of the 'f-bomb' or one of its dirty cousins. Perhaps my favorite type of lyric is that of one of rap's essential elements: the boast. Whether it is lifting the MC or dropping the haters, a good line can put people in their place. I've assembled a small list of some notable examples from the bombastic, to the metaphorial, to the bizarre. What are some of your favorites?
I’ve been running into problems with people selling things on Ebay. Every time I bid on something and win, the seller always sends it a month later or not at all. I eventually get my money back but it is so infuriating.
After reading what I thought would be an average story about how China was preparing for the 2008 Olympic Games in Beijing, I found myself eager to share some interesting details from China Changes Coarse in the Los Angeles Times.
I'm a creature of habit. Things that stay the same are comforting (albeit not particularly memorable) to me. So each and every weekend my morning deliberately unfolds like clockwork. The glue for this is the Food Network.