I expect this investigation will require a long time to conduct in order to understand the scope of the issue and quantify any conclusions the committee will reach. Oh, and it will also require a lot of Cheetos.
Tag: journalism
Are warning labels impeding the natural selection process?
There was a time when manufacturers included warnings on their products as a way to provide useful information that could potentially save our lives.
Or, at the very least, our eyebrows and/or stomach lining.
However, at some point, that all changed. As far I can tell, it happened about the same time McDonald’s had to cough-up a McMillion dollars to the lady who didn’t realize that spilling hot coffee on yourself while behind the wheel of a car can lead to a condition commonly known as “The Open-Road Lap Dance.”
Taking a deeper look, that condition is really just an extension of the more common rule known as “cause and effect,” which states:
‘Cause I’m dumb enough to place hot coffee next to the most vulnerable spot on my entire body, I am, in effect, going to do something even dumber by spilling it there. Probably before I leave the drive-thru.
Continue reading Are warning labels impeding the natural selection process?
To mark this blogging milestone, I hope you like coffee
For anyone about to read this, I suggest sitting down and gripping the sides of your chair. And maybe even strapping on a helmet. That’s because this post marks an exciting milestone of COLOSSAL proportions!
No, I’m not writing about the Biggest Loser.
As if it wasn’t enough that this blog began six months ago TODAY, this also happens to be its 100th post!
Mere coincidence? I DON’T THINK SO!
… OK, yeah — it probably is. In fact, I’d guarantee it because, to be honest, I’m just not that organized.
But it’s still worth celebrating, right?!?
As I sat staring bleary-eyed at the monitor sipping my Mexican mocha, contemplating the appropriate way to mark this occasion, inspiration struck! So, some time in the next 10 minutes, each of you will be receiving your very own Mexican mocha! I can’t guarantee it will still be hot, or that the whipped cream won’t have turned to cottage cheese, but I can guarantee, when it arrives, the only person who will be more surprised than you is me. Continue reading To mark this blogging milestone, I hope you like coffee
Finally, some good newz…
Once again, we are reminded of the importance of Spellcheck in journalism, and why there has never been a “Wheel of Fortune” champion from Mississippi…
Another sterling example of investigative journalism…
Often, it’s our job as journalists to take highly technical information and relay it in a way that can be understood by the average reader. Ummm, mission accomplished…
Genetically superior mice may overshadow zombie apocalypse
I can’t tell you how many nights I’ve spent lying awake, staring up at the ceiling and thinking to myself:
Gee, if only they could make a super strong mouse.
I bring this up because of several readers who sent emails regarding science news, several of which have to do with mice — and all of which I have combined into an informative feature we’ll call:
Modern scientific breakthroughs that couldinspire a horror movie franchise.
We’ll begin with a story about the creation of the first “super” mouse, which was sent in by Bonnie Higgins of Bridgeton, NJ, whose good intentions, I must assume, included keeping me awake at night armed with pepper spray and a sledge hammer. According to the article, scientists in Boston have created a mouse with giant muscles, “capable of enduring rigorous exercise for extended periods of time.”
This is great news for people like me, who often worry that the traps they put out might actually kill a mouse. Now mice will not only have neck muscles thick enough to withstand the trap, but they’ll also be strong enough to re-set those traps and then throw them back at me. Continue reading Genetically superior mice may overshadow zombie apocalypse
Seriously, remember to love each other like Rufus Valentine
As I’ve mentioned before, I lived in the South for 10 years, with six of those years spent in the suburbs of Atlanta. In the early 1990s, I was a restaurant manager operating in one of Georgia’s largest shopping malls — three stories of glass, sale banners and merchant space spanning six football fields’ worth of mall space.
As you can imagine, I’ve dealt with as many personalities as there are seats in a 280-capacity dining room. The fact that Rufus Valentine dug such a deep groove in my memory should tell you a little something about the man’s character.
I’d like to tell you more.
The first time I saw Rufus Valentine was during the Braves’ heyday in February of 1992, when all of Atlanta was anticipating the spring — and a run at the World Series. Essentially, you could be completely naked; but as long as you had a Braves cap on you were considered properly attired by most Atlantans. Continue reading Seriously, remember to love each other like Rufus Valentine
Online banking: Bringing Zimbabwe and Snakegut, Alabama closer together
It’s not every day that I receive an email from a Zimbabwean prince who needs help relocating $20 million into an American bank account as soon as possible. In fact, in the last five years, I’ve only received this letter maybe 18 times. In each case, the letter explains that I’ve been chosen because I’m reputed to be a “dependable and trustworthy” person.
Given that this letter is always addressed to Dear Sir or Madam, I can only assume that my reputation is in fact so great that I no longer need an actual name.
Either that, or I’m not the only person to receive this letter.
Each time I’ve gotten this e-mail, I’ve deleted it because, let’s be honest: Who wants to spend time figuring out how to access their online bank account? I have no intention of adding to that headache (or potential jail time) by making a cross-continental transfer of millions of dollars from Zimbabwe.
Besides, having our checking account suddenly jump to over $20 million — I think — would look a little suspicious.
I’m sorry Mr. Hickson, but you don’t have money in your account to cover…Oh, wait a minute. Scratch that. Will this bagel be everything? Continue reading Online banking: Bringing Zimbabwe and Snakegut, Alabama closer together
Hello: My name isn’t Larry
There are three things I know about “Larry.”
He is a contractor; he lives somewhere in Multnomah County; and he has the same cell phone number that I do.
The calls started about a month ago, presumably about the time “Larry” got his contractor’s license and began making bids. Since then, he has been a busy man, picking up jobs and making sure that his clients know they can call him any time. Day or night. For any reason at all.
Which they do — to my cell phone.
The Hansons, for example, call whenever they change their mind about what color tile to use around the bidet in their new bathroom. For the Gilmores, deciding between cedar shakes or aluminum siding requires at least one consultation a day. And the Reyboulds are still contemplating the ripple effect of kitchen cabinets without knobs. Mrs. Reybould thinks knobs would make their kitchen look more inviting; Mr. Reybould believes not having knobs would stymie their 2-year-old and keep him out of the cabinets for at least another year. Continue reading Hello: My name isn’t Larry
Don’t panic: It’s just your toilet paper getting smaller
I have a friend in Atlanta who I consider an astute observer. The kind of person who is aware of even the most subtle changes in routine or appearance. Which is why it came as no surprise when I received the following e-mail from him:
I think they shrunk my toilet paper.
According to “Derf” (Note: Out of respect for his privacy I have created a fictitious name that should not be held up to a mirror), his recent purchase of Scott toilet paper seemed “more narrow than normal.”
Because many of you are probably reading this over breakfast, I will not explain how he reached this conclusion, nor will I ever be caught without two-ply toilet paper should he come to visit. What I will tell you is that, after reading about his deductive process, I felt a need to go clean my hands, which I did, by dipping them in kerosene and lighting them on fire. Continue reading Don’t panic: It’s just your toilet paper getting smaller
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