Oh, I got hot sause all over my bazito!

You know what this is? It's a brain sucker. You know what it's doing? Filing its tax return

If you wish to make an apple pie from scratch, you must first invent apple pie

The Adventures of Little Ed Brave

Tell airport security your name is McCannister because you can hide anything in a cannister.

You know what? Nobody notices when this changes anyway.

There are 10 types of people in the world: Those who understand binary, and STFU

What happens in a black hole stays in a black hole

The black hole draws you inexorably inward. Time slows. You are likely to be eaten by a grue.

I'd diddle little umdidlie... if she weren't my half-sister.

Abortion prevents pedophilia. In more ways than one!
Get Firefox!
I wrote a haiku

which I was about to share,

but then I thought, "screw it."
Level 1

Notice to all users of the Holodeck:

There are safety protocols in place that cannot be deactivated without the approval of two commanding officers or the captain to protect users of the Holodeck from potential harm. However, every time the Holodeck is ever used in a nontrivial manner, no matter what the safety protocols say, the Holodeck turns into a deathtrap.

Unless you believe yourself to be adept at constructing a forcefield from your communicator and 19th century Earth tools, or you're at the very least not wearing a red shirt, you are strongly advised not to attempt to use the Holodeck until a designer comes up with a safety protocol that doesn't kill you whenever somebody looks at it funny. Even when you're not on the holodeck. Or in the same quadrant. Or time period.

In fact, if you are wearing a red shirt, Starfleet may not be the job for you


Categories: General, Games, Programming, School, Work

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My eclectic car

Permalink 05/08/11 at 07:39:21 am, by Ed, 93 words   English (US)
Categories: General

I just got a new eclectic car. Runs entire on eclecticity. Gets up to 58 miles per giraffe, and refueling is as simple as waiting around a failing circus tent. Or you can run it entirely on mouse waste, leftovers from dinner, wind power, hydro power, sweat from the back of the neck of any (and I do mean any) member of the British royal family, or, if you're in a pinch, it can go up to 50 MPH for a few hours on just the hopes and dreams of dying children. Take a look:

Obamba = Kirk

Permalink 05/05/11 at 06:37:23 am, by Ed, 101 words   English (US)
Categories: General

You know what I realized? The mannerisms of President Obama when he speaks publicly are rather somewhat similar to those of Captain James T. Kirk of the USS Enterprise:

I'm the...uhhh...president... of the...uhh United States. It's...uhhh...my country. It's... my... uhh... country.

I'm captain.... Jamestkirkoftheussenterprise. It's... my ship--it's...my...ship.

The only difference I can see is the guttural uhh noises the president makes between random words. Which is actually bad public speaking etiquette. Frankly, I'm surprised that people think he's such a good public speaker when he says things like "uhh" more than any real words.

Green to Brown

Permalink 04/08/11 at 10:24:24 am, by Ed, 71 words   English (US)
Categories: General

We recently purchased some bananas. They're still green. But they're also going brown already. They completely skipped the yellow phase. I'm eating one right now. I can tell it's not quite ripe yet, but I can also tell it's too ripe. Weird.

Also, Bridget was staring at my face the other day and said I looked like "a cyclops with two eyes". Woah...

Just thought I'd drop that bomb on ya'.

Matrix Infomercial

Permalink 02/25/11 at 09:30:30 pm, by Ed, 402 words   English (US)
Categories: General

I found this on my hard drive. Thought it was pretty funny, and should share it. It's a script for an infomercial about the Blue Pill (as opposed to the Red Pill)

MORPHEUS: I used to be just like you. Complacent. Alright with where the world was going. I ignored that itch at the back of my mind telling me something… was wrong. But the itch didn’t go away. It just got worse. Finally, my doctor told me, I was suffering from reality.

Kids playing at a playground, in the background. Morpheus and a Man sit at a park bench. Man gives Morpheus a box of “The Blue Pill”

V.O.: Are you one of millions of Americans suffering from reality? Now there’s help: The Blue Pill, carefully engineered over years by an advanced artificial intelligence helps you to forget about reality and fall back into bliss. 9 out of 10 doctors recommend the blue pill for that unfortunate itch.

ARCHITECT: I am the architect. I created the false reality pulled over your eyes every waking moment of your lives. I recommended the Blue Pill to every one I know. It’s that good. There are several treatments on the market, but the blue pill is the only one certified by every certification company you humans could come up with. Don’t be duped by knock-off drugs like mescaline, cocaine, or the red pill.

MORPHEUS: It’s amazing! I don’t feel like trying to understand what’s going on at all any more!

V.O.: Side effects of the blue pill include nausea, vomiting, paranoia, ocular degradation, being stuck in a pool of goo for the rest of your life, financial hardships, loss of will to live, and loss of memory. The blue pill should not be taken by women who are nursing or pregnant, or who intend to become pregnant. If you experience a loss of life, it may be a sign of a rare but serious side-effect and should be reported immediately. If reality lasts for more than four hours, contact your doctor immediately. If nobody can be reached, or if symptoms of reality do not subside within one day, stop taking the blue pill and call the Agent Hotline. An agent will be assigned to manage your case personally.

MORPHEUS: Thank you, blue pill! I don’t know how I’d live without you.
AGENT: You wouldn’t.

The Drummer Boy's Lament

Permalink 01/15/11 at 09:18:56 am, by Ed, 453 words   English (US)
Categories: General

"Come," they told me. "A newborn king to see," they told me! "Bring your drum and play for him"

What they forgot to say—what they neglected to mention is that, "Oh, Reggie our drummer is sick and we're performing at Nazareth Inn next Thursday, and since you've already got your drum, could you please fill in for him?"

Well, NO, I can't fill in for Reggie your drummer who's out sick at Nazareth Inn next Thursday! I don't work pro bono. Which is to say, I didn't play drums for Bono, and I won't play drums for you, not without some sort of monetary compensation.

Yeah, no I see you've got the frankincense there, I don't want that. But you, I see, have some gold there, which you're obviously willing to part with, what with it being already wrapped nicely up in a gift box. You can just hand that over now and say you chipped in on the myrrh or something.

What kind of present is gold, anyway? Who are you trying to impress? What, are you Jewish? Oh HE'S Jewish? Well, frankly, I'm a bit disappointed by the other gifts then. I mean, I've got frankincense growing in my back yard. I could pick up some of that, wrap it up in a nice box, and give that for the price of, what... a box? And if I know kids, and believe me, I know kids, me being a drummer BOY and all, I'd guess he'll like the box more than the gift inside anyway.

But you're just not willing to part ways with it, huh? You think the infant will really appreciate the lump of glittery rock you're giving him? Oh, he's a king, that's right. And kings LOVE their gold. Well, what's so special about kings, anyway? There are three of them standing right in front of me. Oh, what? You're not kings? You're the magi, that's right, suuure. Well, you already handed over your setlist, and I see you're singing the "We Three Kings" song. That kind of gives it away, doesn't it?

Oh, and look here, right in the second line, it says you're from the Orient. I dunno, maybe frankincense isn't as prominent over there, and you said to yourself, "Ah, he's Jewish, he'll like frankincense". You know what? That's racist. That's like me saying, "Oh, you're from the Orient, I'll get you a magic bloody carpet, you'll love that." Yeah, maybe you would, if you didn't already have like ten in your attic!

So, you know what? No. I will not play my drums for the infantile king, and you can take my drumstick and jam it up your rump a pum pum.

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