[Aptorian]

Quote

here's the best way to cook a steak. Buy good meat. Talk to your butcher. Look into any nearby farms and their selling practices. The manager's special at your neighborhood grocery is not good steak. You will get what you pay for.

Get your cast iron skillet (you do have a cast iron skillet, don't you?) and put it on the stovetop at HIGH heat. Get that thing screaming hot.

While that heats, prepare your steak. It should be at room temperature before you put it on the heat. This ensures even cooking. Straight out of the fridge, I'd let it sit for 25 mins. or so.

Coat the steak with a liberal amount of kosher salt and fresh cracked pepper. I mean cover that shit. Both sides. If you only have iodized salt and pre-crushed pepper, that's okay. What you do is throw them out, go to the store, and buy kosher salt and whole peppercorns. That's what you need and that's all you should need if you have good steak.

No steak rub. No marinade. That shit's for the weekend warriors. We steak men like to actually taste the flavor of the meat. Kosher salt and fresh cracked pepper ONLY.

Throw that shit in the hot skillet and DON'T TOUCH IT. It's gonna make a noise like an alien dieing in a vat of acid, but leave it the fuck alone. Give it at least two minutes and check it. If it sticks to the pan at all when you try to flip it, leave it alone. When it's ready, it'll release itself from the pan. At the very least, you want both sides to look crusty and delicious. You've seen a great steak, maybe even eaten one once at a restaurant. You know what you're looking for.

Once both sides are yummy-crusted, check for done-ness. I use the poke method. You could also cut into the steak to check the color but you'll lose some of those beefy steak juices. That's no good. Poking is better (that's what she said).

If it's still not at the done-ness you prefer, throw that bitch in an oven set at 350 and check it in four-minute intervals until it's ready for the tummy.

Eat.

Belch.

Thank me later.

[Aptorian]

Couple of good stories on Reddit today:

Quote

Ok, I know this is going to die a slow death on Reddit, but I figured I'd write it down before I forgot.

I went to an onsite to help out an old guy who couldn't get Internet access. I don't do onsites, but there was a scheduling issue, so I figured I'd just knock it out real quick and make my 89 bucks.

Old guy answers the door and I started working on his system. He was annoying and distracting as hell, talking at length about his sexual conquests, how he flew to Asia every year and spent a week with prostitutes, how the best shower he had was with a 17 year old Asian prostitute, how perfect her tits were, etc. I just wanted him to STFU and let me finish (Nortan had fucked up his stack, btw and I fixed his system by removing it).

A buddy of mine was in from out of town and he helped by distracting the old bastard, who wouldn't just shut the fuck up. On and on he spewed graphic details about the truly stratospheric number of Asian prostitutes he'd fucked and finally mentioned that he had significant health issues stemming from his time over there. My buddy asked him what he had done over there, and it turned out he was in the Army and had been captured in Viet Nam, then spent 3 years in a POW camp being tortured.

Wait, wat? 3 fucking years? I couldn't help but stop what I was doing and instead of seeing an annoying old guy, I saw a broken man who, some 40 years earlier had done more than I will ever do, had suffered more than I will ever suffer, and had somehow managed to make it through, heavy reliance on Asian prostitutes notwithstanding.

He continued on in equally graphic detail telling us what they had done to him. I wanted to throw up. They fucking broke him. It was horrible. And somehow, he made it through it, although he was unable to have any semblance of a relationship after. His wife left him. His friends left him. He lives alone now, in the twilight of his life and all he has left is the hookers.

Yeah, I didn't charge him. When he asked me why, I told him he already spent 3 years paying and there was no fucking way I was going to charge him again.

So I left there feeling like an asshole and wondering how many other people I've snap-judged and if I'd just had a little more information I would have shut my arrogant mouth and felt a little goddam compassion.

This one came as a reply to the above:

Quote

Believe it or not, this just made my day.

I moved into this neighborhood a while ago, and despite the fact that everybody on my block is friendly, there was a guy living in the house directly across the street from me that didn't talk to anybody, named Phil. His house was a shambles, his dog always ran loose, drank all the time and he had long hair. He mumbled whenever I saw him. I don't know what my malfunction is, but one day I tossed a bunch of beer in a plastic grocery bag and walked inside his house (he didn't have AC and this is Atlanta) and plopped myself down as if I was invited. With a surprised look he accepted the beer and we started talking. This was about two years after I had moved into the neighborhood, with not a word spoken between us until then.

For a while I was the only person he talked to. Everybody else was kind of afraid of him because, admittedly, he looked like a psycho. The rest of the neighbors would ask me questions about him. This thrilled me, because I would go over to his place and relate the questions and we would both come up with wild-ass responses that were full of lies. Probably about five years into our friendship I learned that he had VOLUNTEERED to go to Vietnam. He was a helicopter pilot. If you know anything about that war, you'll know those guys typically didn't live very long. He told me stories that'd make your hair turn gray. Not that he was trying to shock me, he just was telling me how it was.

Fast forward two years. The next thing I knew, he was talking to other people on the street. Fast forward two more years. Now he's the most popular guy in the neighborhood. It helped that he was brilliant and extremely gentle. For whatever reason, he came out of his shell.

Two years ago he had a stroke in my back yard and died three days later. A couple of weeks before he had brought over a box of slides for me to scan that he took while he was in Vietnam. He explained to me what each one was, and what was going on at the time he took the pictures. When his family came down to pack up his house, his brother's jaw actually dropped when I told him about the slides. Turns out Phil never spoke about the war with them, but did with me. As it turns out, I knew him much better than they did. When he was in the hospital after the stroke, I had gone to visit him. He couldn't speak. Oddly enough, six months before, I had a stroke too and lost speech for a while. I told him "Don't try to talk, it'll just piss you off. It'll come back. Relax." His mother told me that they'd never seen a stroke patient so calm. When I told her that I had given him instructions, she called me his "guardian angel."

After the smoke cleared, they gave me his cherished F-150, and his dog is now sleeping 15 feet from where I am right now. I miss him every day. Now I don't have anybody to drink with. The moral of the story is: See that guy that doesn't talk to anybody? Give him a listen. You might be surprised, and might end up changing his life. Yours too.

[Thelomen Toblerone]

Cocoreturns, on 25 September 2010 - 06:51 PM, said:

Thelomen Toblerone, on 25 September 2010 - 02:40 PM, said:

I wish we had Taco Bell in this country.

Ahem.

granted it's only Lakeside, but it's a start.

AWESOME.

Although Lakeside? Wtf, that's not even the best or biggest shopping mall in a 50 mile radius, why the hell did they pick there? Now I'm goign to have to genuinely choose between Taco Bell and bad shopping, or good shopping and no Taco Bell.

[Weave]

Aww shucks Apt. Now I feel all humbled.
Who wants to ruin a good Sunday feeling humbled?

[Aptorian]

You should definitely play some minecraft to take your mind off things.

[worry]

I dunno, seems like that first guy is outsourcing when there's a perfectly good domestic Asian prostitute industry. Seems wrong to me.

[Gothos]

http://code.google.c...=svn28&r=11#107

Quote

// At this point, I'd like to take a moment to speak to you about the Adobe PSD format.
// PSD is not a good format. PSD is not even a bad format. Calling it such would be an
// insult to other bad formats, such as PCX or JPEG. No, PSD is an abysmal format. Having
// worked on this code for several weeks now, my hate for PSD has grown to a raging fire
// that burns with the fierce passion of a million suns.
// If there are two different ways of doing something, PSD will do both, in different
// places. It will then make up three more ways no sane human would think of, and do those
// too. PSD makes inconsistency an art form. Why, for instance, did it suddenly decide
// that *these* particular chunks should be aligned to four bytes, and that this alignement
// should *not* be included in the size? Other chunks in other places are either unaligned,
// or aligned with the alignment included in the size. Here, though, it is not included.
// Either one of these three behaviours would be fine. A sane format would pick one. PSD,
// of course, uses all three, and more.
// Trying to get data out of a PSD file is like trying to find something in the attic of
// your eccentric old uncle who died in a freak freshwater shark attack on his 58th
// birthday. That last detail may not be important for the purposes of the simile, but
// at this point I am spending a lot of time imagining amusing fates for the people
// responsible for this Rube Goldberg of a file format.
// Earlier, I tried to get a hold of the latest specs for the PSD file format. To do this,
// I had to apply to them for permission to apply to them to have them consider sending
// me this sacred tome. This would have involved faxing them a copy of some document or
// other, probably signed in blood. I can only imagine that they make this process so
// difficult because they are intensely ashamed of having created this abomination. I
// was naturally not gullible enough to go through with this procedure, but if I had done
// so, I would have printed out every single page of the spec, and set them all on fire.
// Were it within my power, I would gather every single copy of those specs, and launch
// them on a spaceship directly into the sun.
//
// PSD is not my favourite file format.

[Aptorian]

http://www.reddit.co...ime_at_my_dads/

Quote

This is the speech I told recently at my father's funeral. I went up at the very end of the service so people could leave with a smile, just like my dad would have wanted.

I killed with it. Dad would have loved it. I hope you all do too.

When you’re a child, you learn a lot of incredible things. Your mind is blown on a regular basis. What goes up, must come down. What cold is and what hot is. What you can do and what you can’t do. The earth goes around the sun. What family means. What it means to love them.

As you get older, these grand realizations get further and farther between. Learning how an engine works. What government does. The difference between a pay rate and a pay check. Then pretty soon, you just don’t have any of those moments anymore.

Then, a moment comes around that rearranges your entire universe. It’s the opposite of all the previous realizations. Instead of knowing the cause but not the effect, you’re aware of the inevitable but completely unprepared for the outcome.

September 13th was that moment for me.

My dad was the greatest man I’ve ever met. I would frequently hear people who knew him tell me “You are just like your father”. I would only be able to muster out something about how I was far more handsome than him, which is clearly true... but was mostly for comedic effect. But what I’d always wanted to tell them was how much of a compliment I believed that to be. However, an affliction that my dad and I both have intervened: We love making people laugh during uncomfortable situations.

We would argue all the time about politics. His crazy ultra-right wing lock up the borders and give guns to invalids talk against my rhythm-nation common man Marxist rants. We would battle for hours, spouting statistics, proposing scenarios. We both loved it. And after hours of dogged fighting, either we would realize that we were both basically arguing the same point, or my mom would come in and scream at us both to shut up.

But, like I said, if there’s any one thing that my dad and I shared, besides this breathtaking visage, it was our love for making people laugh. Thanksgiving dinner was a time to get everyone together and doing the other thing we both truly loved… making fun of my mom. Whether it was the smoke alarm signaling that whatever was in the oven was ready, or trying to have her remember a joke or read something aloud. We had a blast with it. I hope all of you will pick up where my dad and I left off and ask my mom to tell a joke or read anything aloud. And don't feel too bad. You can tease her all you want, she won't remember anyways.

I'm not sure exactly when it happened, but after I heard, I started thinking of jokes. It's a defense mechanism. It's what we did with bad news. They were how he made others feel at ease, so it's only fitting that I attempt to make you all laugh uncomfortably. If any of these really do make you feel uncomfortable, just know that my dad would think they are funny.

So here I am... doing exactly what my father would have been proud of me for: Milking this bereavement time for all that it’s worth!

I'm not sure exactly what my dad died from. Something called a myocardial infarction, whatever that is. I'm pretty sure it actually happened because he finally found the chain-email that he didn’t send that threatened something terrible would happen the next day if he didn't forward it. Ether that or did someone told him that Obama got a second term. For both of you that don't know, my dad was a diehard Republican and gun nut. He MAY have mentioned it. If the cable news was out for more than a hour, he didn't have opinions anymore. Actually, now that I think of it, this may have just been his way out of getting Social Security.

We always joked that I'd be changing his diapers when he’s old. I'd say "I'll have people for that by then". Turns out I won't have to do that indignity for my parents. That means you too mom. If anyone knows a good nursing home, we're going to need one for my mom... really soon too.

Pats stomach I grew this gut just for this occasion. That's just like normal... Everyone laughs at that joke but my dad. Only kidding... of course my dad went to the gym steadfastly, once every nine months.

He was also right in the middle of refinishing the cabinets in the kitchen. I guess he REALLY didn’t want to have to finish those. We will add this to the list of unfinished projects.

I probably could have been a really great rockstar. But my picture perfect upbringing from loving parents ruined all of that. I couldn't get any rage from anywhere! What could I possibly be mad at? Scream about my mom and dad still chasing each other around like schoolkids? All that gross kissing and hugging? Or their hilarious little fights where they weren't talking to each other?

Here's some things that I've always wanted to say in front of my Dad but never could: Ronald Reagan wasn't that great.
Sarah Palin is an idiot. There's probably some rap music that you'd like. The warranty plan is almost never worth it. You won't ever need that receipt.
You don't need that manual.
You'll never send in that warranty card.
The neighborhood kids are not stealing your internet.

All bourbon tastes the same to me. I always thought you were faking it when you could taste the difference.

A law banning giving infants loaded guns is not a "Slippery slope".

I never really liked watching football, I just liked watching it with you.

I'd like everyone to remember who my dad was. He would be the one making you laugh right now if he saw you crying.

While crying Excuse me, I was backstage cutting some onions.

In closing, I'm jealous of many of you. Including you, mom. She got more than 40 years with him. I only got 32. But I know that 100 years wouldn't have been enough.

[Jade-Green Pig-Hog Swine-Beast]

Some really funny stuff here (http://www.27bslash6.com/index.html) but this particular article really stood out:

Roz Knorr, a pseudonym I will assume unless she is part Klingon, does not like Adelaide. Or perhaps it is just me. Or men in general. She certainly doesn't like my website and seems to have missed the point that there are plenty of other websites discussing sweat shop children and how man has ravaged Mother Earth. Sometimes it is nice to have a pointless distraction. We can't spend every waking hour kissing trees and throwing paint at women wearing fur coats. Roz obviously missed the entry page telling her to go away. I should probably make the type larger or change it to read 'Attention women golfers, move along, nothing to see.'


From: Roz Knorr
Date: Monday 12 October 2009 11.56am
To: David Thorne
Subject: Adelaide loser

Only in a backwards town like Adelaide would you get dickheads who would write crap like you. You cant even write well. Thats the result of the sub standard backwards schools in Adelaide. Writing about monkeys and children starving. Spend a few nights with the Salvos feeding the homeless so you can write about that and at least people will go to your site and learn something loser. Little dick typical male. Face it when it comes to Adelaide it is full of dumb backwards hick arseholes that are totally devoid of social consciousness or culture.

From: David Thorne
Date: Monday 12 October 2009 12.38pm
To: Roz Knorr
Subject: Re: Adelaide loser

Dear Roz,

Thankyou for your email. I apologise for the delay in replying. As you mentioned, Adelaide is a tad behind other cities not only in regards to consciousness and culture but also technology. Your email was received by Adelaide's only computer, a 386 housed in the public library powered by a duck on a treadmill, before being relayed to me by Morse code. Should you wish to contact me direct next time, my home number is dot dot dash dot dash dot dot dash.

Regards, David.

From: Roz Knorr
Date: Tuesday 13 October 2009 9.18am
To: David Thorne
Subject: Re: Re: Adelaide loser

Typical coming from such backwards piece of crap city like Adelaide. You just proved my point. LOL! Your reply shows what a bacwards hick you and everyone who lives in Adelaide is. I have homes in Hong Kong, Britain, Paris, USA, & Hawai, as well as Australia. I grew up in a house with 11 servants & a chaufer. And honey I have friends living in Laurel Canyon, & California who earn $400,000 a day in rock & roll. Poor Adeliade. No culture and no class. Be careful not to be a victim of a hit & run. Accidents happen all the time, so much cheaper in Adelaide. One phone call...

From: David Thorne
Date: Tuesday 13 October 2009 9.51am
To: Roz Knorr
Subject: Re: Re: Re: Adelaide loser

Dear Roz,

Thankyou for your concern and kind offer but I should be fine for the moment in regards to monetary based injuries. Recently, I set up a stall at a women's golfing convention with a banner stating "Punch me in the head for one dollar." I made eight hundred and thirty dollars that day. Tax free. With the money raised, I intend to buy a bigger stall for next year's convention.</H5><H5>It must be nice to own several homes all over the planet. For many years I dreamt of experiencing the culture of Paris until I realised there would probably be a lot of French people there. They should do something about that. Contrary to your statement regarding Adelaide having no culture though, there is actually a large and thriving artistic community here but very little art is produced due mainly to the artists spending all their time displaying their scarves to each other and attending gallery exhibitions for the free alcohol, food and the chance to wash their armpits in the venue's bathroom.

Regards, David.

From: Roz Knorr
Date: Tuesday 13 October 2009 2.14pm
To: David Thorne
Subject: Re: Re: Re: Re: Adelaide loser

You wouldn't know a thing about culture being from Adelaide. You are a bunch of inbred filthy convicts and are all a bunch of no hoppers. I won't even quote you how much money I make from my busenesses that I have in New York, Britain or Japan.

From: David Thorne
Date: Tuesday 13 October 2009 3.02pm
To: Roz Knorr
Subject: Re: Re: Re: Re: Re: Adelaide loser


Dear Roz,

Actually, while Adelaide may commonly be referred to as the murder capital of Australia due to having more serial killers per capita than any other city in Australia, it is ironically the only Australian capital city not founded by convicts. Adelaide is also referred to as the City of Churches due to the fact that there is a church on every corner. It is not surprising therefore that Adelaide also has a long history of child pedophilia. Another common misconception is that due to Adelaide's high number of churches, the city must be a very religious one. In fact, the number of churches is only necessary in order to cope with the number of funerals as a result of the number of murders that take place here.</H5><H5>You are also mistaken in regards to Adelaide containing no hoppers. I myself regularly hop. I am, in fact, the founder of the Adelaide Hopping Club, an organisation that meets each Tuesday to hop. We have so many members that it is often standing room only at the meetings. Which is obviously not a problem. Recently, we have been planning an event in which we intend to hop non stop from Adelaide to Sydney to raise not only awareness for the sport of hopping but also funds for a new charity we have set up called The Roz Knorr Hopping Foundation which will provide poor people with no legs a single artificial leg and accompanying hopping instructional video inspiringly titled 'Never Give Up Hop'.

Regards, David.

From: Roz Knorr
Date: Wednesday 14 October 2009 11.16am
To: David Thorne
Subject: Re: Re: Re: Re: Re: Re: Adelaide loser

You wouldn't know the first thing about charity or giving back to the community. People from Adelaide don't do anything for the underprivileged in society. Go read Naomi Klein's 1999 book "No Logo" and join the ant-globalist movement & start defacing corporate posters in public places with political statements, or visit a sweat shop with 7 year olds in Mexico & blog about it. Until then you are just another selfish parasite taking from this planet. Watch your back. I leave for New York in my private plain this afternoon so I don't have any time for anymore of your pathetic hick town nonsense. Goodbye David.

From: David Thorne
Date: Thursday 15 October 2009 11.55am
To: Roz Knorr
Subject: Re: Re: Re: Re: Re: Re: Re: Adelaide loser

Dear Roz,

Thankyou for excellent suggestions. Unfortunately I cannot afford the airfare to Mexico and even if I did, I do not know any seven year olds to take. It's a pity as I have heard that you can get really cheap soccer balls there. Coincidentally, I too have a private plain. It is actually more of a field but going by the amount of back-packers discovered buried in the area, quite private regardless. I was sitting in the middle of it reading your correspondence regarding poorly written books and eighties political statements when I realised you raise a valid point. I organised a garage sale, in which I sold my neighbours outdoor furniture, and used the proceeds to move to Nimbin. I spent today rubbing my body with crystals, dancing to Fleetwood Mac, writing poetry about rain drops and braiding my leg hair to form rope which I have used to construct dream catchers to sell at the local commune shop. As the commune rejects the concept of money and only accepts happy thoughts in exchange for goods, I am writing this using my laptop powered by karma as an alternative energy source. This email is being sent with an attachment of love.

Regards, David.

From: Roz Knorr
Date: Friday 16 October 2009 10.41am
To: David Thorne
Subject: Re: Re: Re: Re: Re: Re: Re: Re: Adelaide loser

Dangerous ground loser. You do not know who you are dealing with. I know a lot of people.

From: David Thorne
Date: Friday 16 October 2009 11.09am
To: Roz Knorr
Subject: Re: Re: Re: Re: Re: Re: Re: Re: Re: Adelaide loser

Dear Roz,

Yes, I realise you must know many people, I calculate the six real estate agents, pilot and co-pilot of your private plain, your rock and roll friends making $400,000 a day plus the eleven servants and chauffeur makes a total of twenty two. I am assuming the chauffeur is the person you intend to have me run over by, if not then twenty three. This total does not of course include the people you know from the Salvation Army, ant-globalist movements, sweat shop owners, the shop assistant at your local XXL Golf Pants'R'Us or members of the K.D. Lang Fan Club.

Regards, David.

From: Roz Knorr
Date: Friday 16 October 2009 2.01pm
To: David Thorne
Subject: Re: Re: Re: Re: Re: Re: Re: Re: Re: Re: Adelaide loser

Email me agian and you will be sorry. Bye.

From: David Thorne
Date: Friday 16 October 2009 2.07pm
To: Roz Knorr
Subject: Re: Re: Re: Re: Re: Re: Re: Re: Re: Re: Re: Adelaide loser

[Coco with marshmallows]

On a youtube video, but brilliant none the less:

Quote

Look at your comment, now back to mine.
Now back at your comment now back to mine.
Sadly it isn't mine, but if you stopped trolling and started posting
legitimate comments it could look like mine.

Look down, back up, where are you?
You're scrolling through comments, writing the comment your comment could look like.
What did you post?
Back at mine, it's a reply saying something you want to hear.
Look again the reply is now diamonds.
Anything is possible when you think before you post.

[Aptorian]

Quote

You know how Fox has a weird way of counting Simpsons episodes? They refuse to count a couple of them, making the amount of episodes inconsistent. The reason for this is a lost episode from season 1.

Finding details about this missing episode is difficult, no one who was working on the show at the time likes to talk about it. From what has been pieced together, the lost episode was written entirely by Matt Groening. During production of the first season, Matt started to act strangely. He was very quiet, seemed nervous and morbid. Mentioning this to anyone who was present results in them getting very angry, and forbidding you to ever mention it to Matt. The episode’s production number was 7G44, the title was Dead Bart.

In addition to getting angry, asking anyone who was on the show about this will cause them to do everything they can to stop you from directly communicating with Matt Groening. At a fan event, I managed to follow him after he spoke to the crowd, and eventually had a chance to talk to him alone as he was leaving the building. He didn’t seem upset that I had followed him, probably expected a typical encounter with an obsessive fan. When I mentioned the lost episode though, all color drained from his face and he started trembling. When I asked him if he could tell me any details, he sounded like he was on the verge of tears. He grabbed a piece of paper, wrote something on it, and handed it to me. He begged me never to mention the episode again.

The piece of paper had a website address on it, I would rather not say what it was, for reasons you’ll see in a second. I entered the address into my browser, and I came to a site that was completely black, except for a line of yellow text, a download link. I clicked on it, and a file started downloading. Once the file was downloaded, my computer went crazy, it was the worst virus I had ever seen. System restore didn’t work, the entire computer had to be rebooted. Before doing this though, I copied the file onto a CD. I tried to open it on my now empty computer, and as I suspected, there was an episode of The Simpsons on it.

The episode started off like any other episode, but had very poor quality animation. If you’ve seen the original animation for Some Enchanted Evening, it was similar, but less stable. The first act was fairly normal, but the way the characters acted was a little off. Homer seemed angrier, Marge seemed depressed, Lisa seemed anxious, Bart seemed to have genuine anger and hatred for his parents.

The episode was about the Simpsons going on a plane trip, near the end of the first act, the plane was taking off. Bart was fooling around, as you’d expect. However, as the plane was about 50 feet off the ground, Bart broke a window on the plane and was sucked out.

At the beginning of the series, Matt had an idea that the animated style of the Simpsons’ world represented life, and that death turned things more realistic. This was used in this episode. The picture of Bart’s corpse was barely recognizable, they took full advantage of it not having to move, and made an almost photo-realistic drawing of his dead body.

Act one ended with the shot of Bart’s corpse. When act two started, Homer, Marge, and Lisa were sitting at their table, crying. The crying went on and on, it got more pained, and sounded more realistic, better acting than you would think possible. The animation started to decay even more as they cried, and you could hear murmuring in the background. This crying went on for all of act two.

Act three opened with a title card saying one year had passed. Homer, Marge, and Lisa were skeletally thin, and still sitting at the table. There was no sign of Maggie or the pets.

They decided to visit Bart’s grave. Springfield was completely deserted, and as they walked to the cemetery the houses became more and more decrepit. They all looked abandoned. When they got to the grave, Bart’s body was just lying in front of his tombstone, looking just like it did at the end of act one.

The family started crying again. Eventually they stopped, and just stared at Bart’s body. The camera zoomed in on Homer’s face. According to summaries, Homer tells a joke at this part, but it isn’t audible in the version I saw, you can’t tell what Homer is saying.

The view zoomed out as the episode came to a close. The tombstones in the background had the names of every Simpsons guest star on them. Some that no one had heard of in 1989, some that haven’t been on the show yet. All of them had death dates on them. For guests who died since, like Michael Jackson and George Harrison, the dates were when they would die.

You can try to use the tombstones to predict the death of living Simpsons guest stars, but there’s something odd about most of the ones who haven’t died yet. All of their deaths are listed as the same date.

[Tiste Simeon]

What the heck was that from??

[Aptorian]

Copypasta from 4chan

[Jade-Green Pig-Hog Swine-Beast]

Massanutten is a small community in Virginia, US, with a population currently comprising of two thousand old people, their cats, one Australian on a tourist visa, his beautiful partner, and a dog named Further.

Being an Australian, the town of Massanutten is like another planet to me. A heavily wooded planet founded by Norman Rockwell and colonised by John Deere tractor owners with a vision that included water slides and mini-golf.

Along with mini-golf, water slides, old people, cats, one Australian, his partner and a dog named Further, Massanutten apparently has bears. I haven't seen any yet but that is only, I assume, due to most people following rules outlined in section 9 of the MPOA Agreement which states:

No trash may be put out before Sunday evening. Any trash not in a secured trash container or trash dispersed by animals may be picked up by MPOA employees and owner may be billed for cost. Bear proof trash cans have been provided at Hopkins Park and the MPOA pool located on Peak Drive for overflow or early check-out trash.



From: David Thorne
Date: Thursday 7 October 2010 11.04am
To: mpoa@massanuttenvillage.com
Subject: Bears

Dear Sir and/or Madam,
I have received a request for seventy-five of my dollars for putting my trash out for collection without securing it inside a bear-proof container. Due to a series of events the night before, I forgot to put my trash out and had to run it out the next morning after hearing the collection truck approach.

As regulations govern only actions within certain defined limits and thereby justify all similar actions that lie outside those limits, I request that my offence is changed from 'unsecured trash' to 'secured trash barring the possibility of bears formulating a strategy in which to take advantage of the few minutes between deposit and collection.'

Regards, David.


From: Patricia Jennings
Date: Thursday 7 October 2010 5.16pm
To: David Thorne
Subject: Re: Bears

Hello Mr. Thorne

Section 9 of the MPOA Agreement which you would have signed clearly states that trash must be secured.

The reason we have these rules is so that bears and other large animals are not attracted to the area. This is for everyones safety. All bear sightings should be reported immediately to the MPOA. A ladys cat was almost bitten by a bear just a few weeks ago near the mini golf course.

Patricia


From: David Thorne
Date: Thursday 7 October 2010 9.12pm
To: Patricia Jennings
Subject: Re: Re: Bears

Dear Pat,

Due to the abundant supply of cats in the area, I'm surprised bears bother with the trash at all. As I have run over at least four cats this week and one of those did not put up much of a chase, it may be suggested that elderly residents and their cats pose more of an attraction for bears than unsecured trash. For the safety of all residents, section 9 of the MPOA Agreement should probably be amended to state that all cats, and their elderly owners, be kept in bear-proof containers.

While out walking this evening, I witnessed several cats having some kind of cat meeting on the sidewalk ahead of me. Possibly discussing the local bear problem. After reading that a bear recently ate a ladies cat in the area and hearing a twig snap in the shadows behind me, I decided to take the shortest route home by cutting through the Massanutten mini-golf facilities. Managing to scale the three metre fence via fear and a trash can, I slipped, caught my back pants pocket on one of the pointy metal bars, and hung there for several minutes before managing to wriggle out of them - dropping to safety and to the right of hole 7. Fashioning temporary legwear by removing my jumper and placing my legs in the sleeves, figuring they would look like Hammer pants to people driving by, I left the premises by climbing the papier-mâché boulders near hole 16, leaping onto the ticket hut roof and dropping down the other side to safety. If my shoes had not been soaked and slippery from the pond to the right of hole 7, I am pretty sure I would have made it on the first attempt. While not pointing any blame, I quite liked those pants as they fit really well and cost me around seventy-five dollars.

Also, as per your instructions to report bear sightings immediately, I have attached a photograph taken outside my premises a few minutes ago. I apologise for the quality but was fearful of getting too close due to the fact bears constrict and consume their prey whole, taking several days to fully digest. As I have a short attention span and would prefer a quick death such as removing my helmet in space, I request you send assistance immediately.

Regards, David.




From: Patricia Jennings
Date: Friday 8 October 2010 2.26pm
To: David Thorne
Subject: Re: Re: Re: Bears

I checked with Carol at the mini golf hut and no pants were found on the fence. I doubt any of that really happened. That looks like a dog with a blanket on it. I'm not going to waste anyones time sending an officer out to check that.

From: David Thorne
Date: Friday 8 October 2010 2.51pm
To: Patricia Jennings
Subject: Re: Re: Re: Re: Bears

Dear Pat,
If Carol from the mini-golf hut has time to check the perimeter for pants, why not send her? While issuing me a seventy-five dollar fine by justifying it is for the safety of others, you seem pretty quick to dismiss mine. As people rely on your protection from bears and your position consists entirely of not waiving fines issued to ensure the compliance of regulations that protect people from bears, you should probably send out a memo or something stating that we are on our own in an emergency situation. On the back of the memo, you could include instructions on making a pointy stick to protect ourselves with.

I own a gun but am unsure if a bear, shot with a Daisy .177 calibre BB air rifle purchased from Wal-Mart for $39.75, would be wounded or just pissed off. While testing the rifle last week, my offspring was definitely the latter. I have heard that the best way to protect yourself during a bear attack is to roll into a tight ball and cover your face but I am pretty sure a flame-thrower or a special suit that metal spikes spring out of when you press a button would be more effective. I have also heard that music soothes the savage beast but the last time I sang Whitney Houston's 'The Greatest Love of All' to my offspring, it had the opposite effect despite what I considered to be an excellent reproduction of her tonal range.

Although wary, after reading recently that a bear ate a lady and her cat in the area, I decided to risk leaving the premises in order to drive to your office and pay the fine. Unfortunately, possibly due to an unsecured Snickers bar on the dashboard, the bear is now in my vehicle and I am unable to do so. Please send assistance immediately as I have also run out of cigarettes and need to drive to the shop. If you send Carol, please ask her to stop on the way and grab me a pack. While you may not class this as an emergency or possible danger to others, you haven't seen me after two hours without nicotine.

Regards, David.




From: Patricia Jennings
Date: Friday 8 October 2010 3.18pm
To: David Thorne
Subject: Re: Re: Re: Re: Re: Bears

I wont be sending an officer because your not in any danger at all. You have obviously just put a blanket on a dog while it is sitting in your car and taken a photo. If you want to express your opinion on trash collection rules you are welcome to attend the next MPOA community meeting which is held each month. Not understanding the importance of bear safety doesnt mean you dont have to follow the rules. I'm not even sure what your point is.


From: David Thorne
Date: Friday 8 October 2010 4.22pm
To: Patricia Jennings
Subject: Re: Re: Re: Re: Re: Re: Bears

Dear Pat,
My point is, barring the possibility of strategy formulating bears, stating my actions constitute a punishable breach of regulations structured to protect the community only enables you to be wrong with authority, not right.

Contrary to your statement, I do understand the importance of bear safety. Several years ago, I went camping with a few associates and thought it would be amusing to jump out of bushes while wearing a bear suit. Renting the only bear costume available, which was a koala, I altered it as best I could to make it look frightening by taping down the fluffy ears, adding sharp cardboard teeth and constructing two downward slanting eyebrows with electrical tape. While sitting around the campfire, I excused myself, donned the concealed costume and leapt out yelling 'Rawr'. Moments later, I realised the screaming and falling back off chairs was not due to wearing a bear costume but the fact I was standing in the fire while wearing a bear costume made of polyester. After a two-hour drive to the nearest hospital, I underwent three weeks of skin grafting on my left leg and six months hearing about how I ruined the camping trip. To this day, when anyone asks about the scars, I simply state "It involved a camping trip and a bear, I don't like to talk about it" which is true because I don't. While I was in the hospital, my mother went to my apartment to get some clothes for me and found my porn collection so it is a touchy subject.

Also, while I was able to persuade the bear to exit my vehicle by pretending to be an old lady looking for her cat, it is now inside my premises. Although not immediately evident from the attached photograph, the bear is sitting between myself and the television remote control, located on the cushion to its left. As this effectively cuts off my ability to change channels and The View just started, this should be classed as an emergency situation. If I wanted to watch a group of old women carry on, I would attend an MPOA community meeting.

Regards, David.




From: Patricia Jennings
Date: Friday 8 October 2010 5.03pm
To: David Thorne
Subject: Re: Re: Re: Re: Re: Re: Re: Bears

Fine. I will waive the amount this time if you agree to make sure all your trash is secure in future.


From: David Thorne
Date: Friday 8 October 2010 5.16pm
To: Patricia Jennings
Subject: Re: Re: Re: Re: Re: Re: Re: Re: Bears

Dear Pat,
Regardless of whether you waive the fine or not, and despite conditional terms added to reassert authority, I will continue to secure trash correctly. Not because it is a rule, but because it is a logical rule to follow. Despite my continuing doubt as to the ability of bears to plan and execute manoeuvres requiring SWAT team precision, I will also do so regardless of the time frame between deposit and collection. Not because it is a logical rule to follow, but because it is a rule.

How about you agree to waive the fine and I promise not to email you the remaining eighty six photos of my dog dressed as a bear.

Regards, David..


From: Patricia Jennings
Date: Friday 8 October 2010 5.24pm
To: David Thorne
Subject: Re: Re: Re: Re: Re: Re: Re: Re: Re: Bears

Agreed.

[Adjutant Stormy~]

I love that guy.

[Beezulbubba]

"I love Fall. Changing leaves. Crisp air. Also, it's more satisfying to watch a criminal beg for mercy when you can see his breath." - @God_Damn_Batman

[Tiste Simeon]

From @GeneHunt on Twitter...

Quote

I was told knocking two rooms into one would make the house feel bigger....It does, but why do I need 18' high ceilings?

A mate gave me a photo & said, "Here's a pic of me when I was younger." Twonk! Every photo of you is when you were younger!

Those who think onions are the only vegetable that make your eyes water have never interrogated a suspect with a sack of spuds.

The girlfriend's mother was taken ill. I acted swiftly and rushed off to find a pen and paper to write for an ambulance.

It doesn't seem fair to keep joking about obese people. After all, haven't they already got enough on their plates?

I used to love it when the ex-wife got down to some hot and steamy action... Well, someone had to do the ironing!

A young couple got KY Jelly and putty muddled up....ended in tragedy of course...the glass fell out of their windows.

The more streamlined a woman is, the greater resistance she offers.

Women! If you think you're fat, you probably are. Don't ask us. We refuse to answer.

A kidnapper has 100 lawyers locked in a hotel - he's threatening to release one every hour until his demands are met.

A woman's cleavage is something you can look down on and approve of at the same time.

Ninety nine point five percent of lawyers give the rest a bad name.

Why do men fart more than women? Because women won't shut up long enough to build up pressure.

If your parents didn't have any children then I'm not talking to you.

I was in a club last night watching a topless lady ventriloquist. No one's ever noticed her lips moving.

EDIT: And my personal favourite:

Quote

I surveyed 100 women and asked them what shampoo they used when showering. 98 of them said, "How did you get in here?"

This post has been edited by Tiste Simeon: 28 October 2010 - 12:58 PM

[Aptorian]

Quote

"American political parties are like the Wizard of Oz. The Tea Party has no brain, the Republicans have no heart, and the Democrats have no courage"

[Jade-Green Pig-Hog Swine-Beast]

I can't be arsed to paste the whole think this time, so here's the link:

http://www.27bslash6.com/bob.html

[Aptorian]

Interesting, don't really know if I believe anyone can understand 1500 words per minute, but still, interesting:

http://www.reddit.co..._truly_made_me/

Quote

I read somewhere recently (probably that speed reading article on Tim Ferris's blog) about a professor who was working out how fast everyone in the class read. Everyone got approximately 250wpm, exept the deaf person, who got 1000wpm. The prof questioned the deaf person oh fuck it I'll just get the link.

Link to article

Copy pasta of the comment with the story:

Speed Reading – So How Do Deaf People Read Then?

Hi Tim.

Firstly, I love your stuff. Thanks so much for it.

Let me add to this something that I learned when I took my first speed reading course. I did it when I was an institutional broker for a large investment bank in London. I hated reading the (useless) research that our economists were sending out, so I wanted to cut down my time getting the “house view”.

My instructor shared this with us:

He was teaching a class in Oxford. His first student came into the room and sat very near him. Seinfeld would have called him a close talker, I believe. The kid was staring at the teacher’s lips and the teacher, quite unsettled by this, moved away as subtly as he could. The student noticed this and wrote on a piece of paper, “I’m sorry, but I’m deaf, I need to read your lips to understand you.” The teacher now realised why his student was on top of him and was calmed.

As the tuition began, the first speed reading accessment came in. On average, most people read about 250 words per minute, or about as fast as we talk, as we sound the words in our head as we read. This kid came in at 1,500 words per minute. The instructor was astounded. Now most people, after trying and improving a few times, you can get over 1,000 words – I hit over 1,100 per minute – but it takes a couple of tries. This kid was doing 1,500 per minute every time, without the tuition.

The instructor was telling the rest of the “normal” people in the room to try to stop reading the words and to just look at the them and trust their brains to do the rest.

The deaf student, reading his lips, start furiously writing down on a piece of paper, “Do you mean to tell me that people who can hear actually sound out the words in their heads when they’re reading?”

The instructor nodded.

The deaf student then wrote this:

HAHAHAHAHAHA!

If one is deaf, (I now see) clearly one can’t assign a sound to word.

They just look at shapes. In fact, one of our exercises to get us accustomed to this was to turn the book upside down and to “read” the gobbledegook.

Much like Su Doku, which is NOT a numbers game, just a game played with numbers, you need to get 9 shapes in a square, row, or line without repeating. We’re using numbers to do this, but really it’s about the shapes.

Just stop saying the words in your head and your speed will improve pretty much 3-4x…

See, the “disabled” have much to teach us.

All the best,

Sean

Edit: Adding to the discussion, I just remembered hearing that John Stuart Mills father sat him down when he was a child, gave him a book, and got him to understand as much of it as he could before breakfast. He grew to be able to read as fast as he could turn the pages.