• Mystery spit

    Have you ever opened your mouth, only to be surprised by the amount of fluid your mouth is expelling? The circumstances don’t seem to matter, you can be opening your mouth to eat or speak, and suddenly (and without voluntary control), you’re spitting a narrow stream of saliva across the room like one of those shower heads they install in low rent apartments to conserve water. I couldn’t spit like that if I tried; and believe me, as a male child of the species I did try.

    If I were a fundamentalist prone to hysteria, I’d find myself jumping into a pool of holy water, screaming “cast ye out SATAN!!!” There are two reasons to be thankful right there: I’m not a fundamentalist prone to hysteria, and there are no pools of holy water handy. Whew!

    Anyone familiar with the mechanics of accidental spit is welcome to reply.

  • A low carb conspiracy

    I’ll bet that one day ‘low-carb’ will be classified as an eating disorder. Anyone want to take that bet?

    Can it cause in insufficient food intake?
    Check.

    Can it cause long term health problems?
    Tentative check.

    Will people ignore these factors in favor of being thin?
    Are you kidding me?

    Anyone willing to partake in the ‘new bike for John’ initiative is welcome to reply.

  • If no one sees a new bicycle in the showroom, does it cost any money?

    I have been the satisfied owner of a neon yellow, aluminum frame, Trek bicycle since January 1991. I have gone in and out of bicycle shops through the years, but I’ve restricted my browsing to items of need rather than desire. In this way, I have substantially eluded the phenomenon known as “Post-shopping stress disorder”, or P.S.S.D. (pronounced “pissed”). References to P.S.S.D. can often be seen in popular American slang. Common phrases like: “I came back from shopping today really P.S.S.D.”; or, “I saw this really cool pair of pants on sale at the mall today and nearly P.S.S.D. myself” are but a few examples.

    Well you guessed it; I went to the bike shop on Saturday and P.S.S.D myself over a new bike.

    Coughing up a cool thousand on a new purchase hasn’t looked so good in nearly seventy-two hours (when separation anxiety set in over my hospitalized iBook).

    George? Tom? Abe? Alex? Andy? U.S.? Ben? Why have you all forsaken me?