Why can't you give me more free time?
Remi Gaillard is the man.
Monday
Friday
Wednesday
Coolest Arcade Racing Game
This is some bearded chick's hobby. Try not to freak out at the weird music, bearded lady, and awesome game. Just try.
Tuesday
Douglas Adams - Brilliant Story Teller
Here's an excerpt from The Salmon of Doubt: Hitchhiking the Galaxy One Last Time.
This actually did happen to a real person, and the real person was me. I had gone to catch a train. This was April 1976, in Cambridge, U.K. I was a bit early for the train. I'd gotten the time of the train wrong.
I went to get myself a newspaper to do the crossword, and a cup of coffee and a packet of cookies. I went and sat at a table.
I want you to picture the scene. It's very important that you get this very clear in your mind.
Here's the table, newspaper, cup of coffee, packet of cookies. There's a guy sitting opposite me, perfectly ordinary-looking guy wearing a business suit, carrying a briefcase.
It didn't look like he was going to do anything weird. What he did was this: he suddenly leaned across, picked up the packet of cookies, tore it open, took one out, and ate it.
Now this, I have to say, is the sort of thing the British are very bad at dealing with. There's nothing in our background, upbringing, or education that teaches you how to deal with someone who in broad daylight has just stolen your cookies.
You know what would happen if this had been South Central Los Angeles. There would have very quickly been gunfire, helicopters coming in, CNN, you know. . . But in the end, I did what any red-blooded Englishman would do: I ignored it. And I stared at the newspaper, took a sip of coffee, tried to do a clue in the newspaper, couldn't do anything, and thought, what am I going to do?
In the end I thought, nothing for it, I'll just have to go for it, and I tried very hard not to notice the fact that the packet was already mysteriously opened. I took out a cookie for myself. I thought, that settled him. But it hadn't because a moment or two later he did it again. He took another cookie.
Having not mentioned it the first time, it was somehow even harder to raise the subject the second time around. "Excuse me, I couldn't help but notice . . ." I mean, it doesn't really work.
We went through the whole packet like this. When I say the whole packet, I mean there were only about eight cookies, but it felt like a lifetime. He took one, I took one, he took one, I took one. Finally, when we got to the end, he stood up and walked away.
Well, we exchanged meaningful looks, then he walked away, and I breathed a sigh of relief and sat back. A moment or two later the train was coming in, so I tossed back the rest of my coffee, stood up, picked up the newspaper, and underneath the newspaper were my cookies.
The thing I like particularly about this story is the sensation that somewhere in England there has been wandering around for the last quarter-century a perfectly ordinary guy who's had the same exact story, only he doesn't have the punch line.
This actually did happen to a real person, and the real person was me. I had gone to catch a train. This was April 1976, in Cambridge, U.K. I was a bit early for the train. I'd gotten the time of the train wrong.
I went to get myself a newspaper to do the crossword, and a cup of coffee and a packet of cookies. I went and sat at a table.
I want you to picture the scene. It's very important that you get this very clear in your mind.
Here's the table, newspaper, cup of coffee, packet of cookies. There's a guy sitting opposite me, perfectly ordinary-looking guy wearing a business suit, carrying a briefcase.
It didn't look like he was going to do anything weird. What he did was this: he suddenly leaned across, picked up the packet of cookies, tore it open, took one out, and ate it.
Now this, I have to say, is the sort of thing the British are very bad at dealing with. There's nothing in our background, upbringing, or education that teaches you how to deal with someone who in broad daylight has just stolen your cookies.
You know what would happen if this had been South Central Los Angeles. There would have very quickly been gunfire, helicopters coming in, CNN, you know. . . But in the end, I did what any red-blooded Englishman would do: I ignored it. And I stared at the newspaper, took a sip of coffee, tried to do a clue in the newspaper, couldn't do anything, and thought, what am I going to do?
In the end I thought, nothing for it, I'll just have to go for it, and I tried very hard not to notice the fact that the packet was already mysteriously opened. I took out a cookie for myself. I thought, that settled him. But it hadn't because a moment or two later he did it again. He took another cookie.
Having not mentioned it the first time, it was somehow even harder to raise the subject the second time around. "Excuse me, I couldn't help but notice . . ." I mean, it doesn't really work.
We went through the whole packet like this. When I say the whole packet, I mean there were only about eight cookies, but it felt like a lifetime. He took one, I took one, he took one, I took one. Finally, when we got to the end, he stood up and walked away.
Well, we exchanged meaningful looks, then he walked away, and I breathed a sigh of relief and sat back. A moment or two later the train was coming in, so I tossed back the rest of my coffee, stood up, picked up the newspaper, and underneath the newspaper were my cookies.
The thing I like particularly about this story is the sensation that somewhere in England there has been wandering around for the last quarter-century a perfectly ordinary guy who's had the same exact story, only he doesn't have the punch line.
Sunday
Double feature
I've been away for a while so you get twice the content for this post. I got a great stoner story, plus a pretty wacked out video.
It was late, I ordered a pizza, and I was very stoned. I ran down and I saw a guy, standing there, with a big bag and at this point, I was like a bull seeing red, I knew my pizza was in that bag. I go to hand you 20$ and you stand there, I think you tell me, its 16$, so I try to hand you 20$. You wont take it, your hands are up, your saying something, so I try to give you 25$ but you keep saying something and walk away. You walked away with my pizza while my thirst was so strong, my hunger so epic that I knew there was going to be Greek poem that rivals the Odyssey written about it, but you walked away with everything I ever wanted. At this point, while staring at you, my blood shot eyes started to roam your attire, I realized you were just a jogger who got done grocery shopping and were trying to get into the apartment complex. This whole time you were shouting, “I'M NOT THE PIZZA GUY, HE IS!”. I now realized that the red uniform the pizza man was wearing acted like camouflage against the red brick walls, he was like the predator emerging from the jungle, very tricky pizza man.
It was late, I ordered a pizza, and I was very stoned. I ran down and I saw a guy, standing there, with a big bag and at this point, I was like a bull seeing red, I knew my pizza was in that bag. I go to hand you 20$ and you stand there, I think you tell me, its 16$, so I try to hand you 20$. You wont take it, your hands are up, your saying something, so I try to give you 25$ but you keep saying something and walk away. You walked away with my pizza while my thirst was so strong, my hunger so epic that I knew there was going to be Greek poem that rivals the Odyssey written about it, but you walked away with everything I ever wanted. At this point, while staring at you, my blood shot eyes started to roam your attire, I realized you were just a jogger who got done grocery shopping and were trying to get into the apartment complex. This whole time you were shouting, “I'M NOT THE PIZZA GUY, HE IS!”. I now realized that the red uniform the pizza man was wearing acted like camouflage against the red brick walls, he was like the predator emerging from the jungle, very tricky pizza man.
Saturday
High speed cameras on billard balls
Even if you aren't a fan of billiards like I am, I think you'll still be impressed at all the visual eye candy.
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