So
I’ve got a staffing meeting for a sketch program tomorrow and I just wrote down “The K: like The Grey, only they land in the Kardashians’ backyard.” And then I crossed it out so many times the sun imploded.
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I’ve got a staffing meeting for a sketch program tomorrow and I just wrote down “The K: like The Grey, only they land in the Kardashians’ backyard.” And then I crossed it out so many times the sun imploded.
Just because you know how to correctly use a comma does not mean that you are, in fact, a grammar snob.
I high five you sir.
And yes we see them all the time in France LOL.I kind of love him, hee.
(Source: mystery-tour)
Astronaut Don Pettit, playing with his food
“But how does one clean out the whiskers in weightlessness? On Earth, you simply open the head and shake them out. Doing that up here would be a disaster. So once a week, when vacuuming the accumulation of lint, dust, and detritus against the air inlet filters, I vacuum my razor. I hold the vacuum cleaner hose between my legs, and use both hands to carefully open the shaving head in front of the suction. A cloud of whiskers jumps out, appearing like a miniature asteroid field, then quickly disappears into a black hole, with no chance of escape.”
One of my new favourite things is Letters To Earth, the NASA blog of astronaut Don Pettit, who is currently aboard the International Space Station. He writes most days, often about the mundane, day-to-day things of living in zero gravity: where chopsticks go when you lose them (not down), how to clean your electric shaver, toilet facilities on the Soyuz spacecraft, that sort of thing. He is a lovely writer, thoughtful and emotional and funny, philosophical about the little things, awe-struck by the beauty of our planet and everything in the sky around him. His musings on humanity and our perception of ourselves are quite beautiful and he takes some jaw-dropping photos as the ISS orbits (see Grand Canyon and the Eye of Issyk Kul).
Also he invented a zero-g coffee cup. Cool.
I have various astronomy apps on my iPhone that track the ISS and sometimes I look up at the sky and try to imagine that craft so high above me and Don up there, floating around in the capsule eating his space food or doing science or snoozing in his strapped-down sleeping bag or just doing general spaceman stuff and I look forward to hearing about what he’s been up to again.
*SNIFF*
Lovers in the Cold, a Born to Run outtake. Given all the songs he wrote for this album, it’s pretty darn impressive how good he was at self editing them. A lesson for us all.
So I don’t know if you’ve seen this before (it very well may be old news to you internet users), but: Nic Cage, ladies and gents.
Also, they played this during the BitUSA show I was at, which is awesome because you know who loves this song? This fellow. That’s who. Loves this song. I love this song.
New tour means I get to start making good on my banner’s promise.
New tour begins in March. I’ll take it. The new album takes its name from this song, performed at the end of the old Giants Stadium’s life. I always thought there was a good song hidden inside this somewhat odd one (a stadium’s POV is a first for Bruce). But the essence of the song is fantastic: “We know that come tomorrow, none of this will be here/so hold tight to your anger, hold tight to your anger, hold tight to your anger, and don’t fall to the fear.” That’s great stuff. If they could cut out the references to sports and sports fans and Meadowlands, it could be a hell of a show opener.
My new barometer for happiness, courtesy of this guy:
Ask yourself this:
Can I creep in this weather?
If the answer is YES, I am happy.
If the answer is NO, I am unhappy.
Thank you.