slyjinks: (Default)
When I visited home, my brother spouted the old, "We only use ten percent of our brains" myth at me. When I told him, "You know, that isn't actually true," he seemed to almost get offended. I think he likes the idea that if we could just "unlock" that 90%, we'd all have access to special abilities or whatnot.

Unfortunately, I couldn't recite exactly where I had heard that the 10% business isn't true, so I lost the arguement.

So anyway, I'm putting these links here so I can find him later, so that the next time this arguement comes up I can say, "I told you so." :)

Myths About the Brain: 10 percent and Counting
Neuroscience for Kids: Do We Only Use 10% Of Our Brains?
Snopes.com

Yeah, yeah, yeah. I know the saying. "Well, if it's on the internet, is has to be true!" But still, I think I'll believe Snopes over assorted satellite TV commercials.
slyjinks: (Confused Haze)
Aunt Pauline: "So is someone going to watch a movie with me or not?"

Cousin David: "I will!"

Pauline: "Well, which one do you pick?"

David: "Harry Potter!"

Pauline: *exasperated sigh* "Oh, all right."

David: "What's wrong?"

Me: "She said she wanted to watch the Nativity Story or, if not that, Transformers."

Pauline: "Because they're similar, right? The story lines?"
slyjinks: (Pan: Oh the wonder of me)
Had while watching The Lion, the Witch, and the Wardrobe.

David: "Wouldn't it be kind of weird to find a magic land in your wardrobe in your spare room."

Me: "I'd be surprised to find a spare room, much less one with a wardrobe in it. I don't even have a wardrobe!"

David: "Me, neither."

Me: "I've got a closet, though. What about finding a magic land in your closet?"

David: "I wouldn't go in there."

Me: "Why not? Are closet magic lands worse than wardrobe magic lands?"

David: "Yeah. Because closet magic lands go to the future, where they have bigger weapons."
slyjinks: (Stick Starscream: Happy Seeker)
As threatened, here are the first scans from my sketch book from when I was a kid. I originally got the book for Christmas of 1985, and at first tried to keep it as an art-diary of sorts, but then... I got lazy. But anyway, if the pictures in it look like what a little kid would draw, well, they were. I have the book dated 1985-1988. Most of the earlier pages have individual dates on them, but I eventually got too lazy even for that. Either way, my own personal age range on these masterpieces was nine to twelve.

Some of the pages have words on them that don't always make much sense, because at some point I decided my book needed chapters and the logic of how I grouped the pictures was, at times, ill-defined at best. Also, many of the pages are damaged because at another point in time I decided it would be a fine idea for my sketch book to double as a photo album, and I went through and just glued photos to the backside of art.

BRILLIANT.

Anyway. 'Arts.' )

And just think! More crap tomorrow! XD
slyjinks: (Marvel Rodimus: Goggles)
Hey, look, my mom has an eBay store.

I really don't have much use for anything she's got up (although I'm shocked she's putting "For Girls" up for sale - BTW, 'self abuse' is the book's term for masturbation), but the little advertising blurbs had me giggling.
slyjinks: (Batman: Squirt)
I had to do my grocery shopping today (ugh), which meant tolerating the sappy music they had going over the loud speakers. Of course, since this is the sort of music that gets played over and over in supermarkets across the country, the songs, whether I like them or not, are drilled into my subconscious, and at one point I realized I was singing along with the refrain of one of them.

Of course, by "singing along with," I mean that I was singing words at the same time that they were singing words. However, they were not the same words, but rather, a variation I of the refrain that I have often heard my mother singing.

So there I was, in the middle of Food Lion, and every time the refrain of one particular song came up, I was singing out loud, for anyone nearby to hear me:

"Every time you go awaaaaaaaay, you take a piece of meat with you..."

Needless to say, I blame this on [livejournal.com profile] nan_sea.

Bad Patient

May. 6th, 2007 07:49 pm
slyjinks: (Two Face: Eeeeeeevil)
So, I just found out that my mom, [livejournal.com profile] nan_sea, is in the hospital. She assures me that there's nothing to worry about, and she sounded, in fact, quite chipper.

On Thursday, while cooking a meal, she felt light headed and a bit fluttery, so she checked her blood pressure and heart rate. Both were high. "If I were being smart I'd have just calmed down for awhile and checked again later, but no, I suggested to your father, 'Perhaps maybe I should go to the hospital,' and they've had me ever since!"

Supposedly, she was admitted to have her blood pressure lowered, her heart tested, and to be given a stress test. Her blood pressure was lowered with drugs very soon after she was admitted, her heart was tested a couple of days ago and the nurse confided in her, saying that she really had no idea why Mom was still there, because the tests looked fine. She's yet to be given a stress test, and so she's been stuck there ever since.

The only real problem she reported is that she's now bored out of her mind. She keeps playing with the controls on her hospital bed, raising them up as high as they will go. The nurses come in and periodically lower it and tell her they'd rather she didn't change the height of her bed (or in once case, that she wasn't allowed to do so) and she'll leave it lowered until she gets bored again, then raise it. She's been writing notes that say, "Help! I'm being held prisoner!" and throwing them out the window. She's put on her hospital slippers upside down so that the rubber portion was upwards and the slick cloth bit was on the bottom, and used them to skate up and down the hallways.

She was in the process of eating a salt-free meal when I talked to her, and had poured both her salad dressing and some sugar onto her baked potato. My sister, who was with her, wouldn't let her mix her jello in with her potato, but Mom did inform me of her plans to go get some pancake syrup to pour over the entire meal.

One is inclined to wonder if, after a weekend of dealing with her, it won't be the doctors and nurses who need the stress test more.

The good news is, with this event, dad and mom have both decided that she shouldn't work at Wal-Mart anymore. For anyone who might look in on her journal from time to time, that means from here on out, if she posts a Wal-Mart story, she is probably making it up.

She does that sort of thing sometimes.

I should probably be more worried than I am, but after listening to her describe her behavior during her stay there, I'm more amused than anything else.
slyjinks: (Hubble Shot: Under The Sea)
I got my Christmas presents from my parents. I got a ninja Barbie (no, I'm not kidding), the Superman Returns DVD, a DVD with Justice League cartoons on it, a bunch more recorded DVDs of the sort I've mentioned before, monies, and nuts. I was incredibly pleased! Such wonderful gifts!

The movies reminded me that I haven't been watching the last batch of movies my dad sent, so I picked up the next one on my pile.

House of 1000 Corpses )

Cartoons! )

Anyway, that's it. So remember: if it's a choice between Rob Zombie or early Warner Brothers cartoons, pick the cartoons! (They make a lot more sense, too.)

Bonus

Dec. 10th, 2006 09:02 pm
slyjinks: (Psionic Blast)
I called my mom today, and she told me another stories of her Adventures In Wal-Martia.

Mom works at the paint counter at a Wal-Mart in one of the little towns in Oklahoma. One day she was there mixing up some paint when a woman approached the counter and asked Mom if she knew where the insulating foam was. So Mom, who couldn't leave the paint at the time, directed her to wear the insulating spray-foam was, told her what shelf it would be on, where on the shelf it would be, and described the cans, one orange one and one green one, telling her that they tended to be about the same price, and she didn't think there was any significant difference between the two products.

The lady returned a few minutes later with two cans, one orange and one green. One of them (I think it was the orange one, but I wasn't there or anything) was a bit larger than the other and said across the top, "Bonus! 33% More!" So the woman showed her the cans and said, "Well, this one says 'insulating foam' on it, but this can says that it's 'bonus.'

... Yes, that's right. The customer thought that it was a can full of genuine Bonus!

So my mother had to explain to her what the word, "Bonus" meant, and meanwhile was wondering how the woman had lived so long, and had even spawned (she had children with her).

Now my brother wants to make a product called "Bonus," which he says will always contain 33% more! He's not going to specify more than what, though.

Mom has also asked me to tell you all about Zazzle, which is a website that lets you design your own T-Shirts, bumper stickers, and so on, and then sells them. And then, theoretically, you get money, although Mom hasn't gotten any yet. Maybe because no one's bought her stuff. Anyway, if anyone is interested, here is her gallery of products. Apparently you can also join my mother's fan club!
slyjinks: (DigiSaph: Air Guitar)
I played some of these with my cousins yesterday. Ian, age 12, Mary, age 10, and David, age 5 (or they could all be up a year. It always bewilders me the way people keep going up in age every year). They were very amusing, and David did rather well with picking words like Nouns and Adjectives when they were explained to him. Although we'd get conversations like:

Me: Okay, David. Your turn. I need you to pick a noun.
David: Okay. Okay. Uhm... what's a noun again?
Me: A noun is a person, place, or thing.
David: Ian!
Mary (proudly): Ian is a proper noun!
Me: Now it's your turn, Mary. Mary, I need an adjective.
Ian (distressed because he now believes the adjective will be applied to the proper noun of Ian): Oh! Mary picks mean adjectives!
Mary: Stinky!

And so on. :) Also, nine times out of ten, if a part of the body was called for, they'd suggest, 'butt.' Anyway, same deal as before. To play, I need the following:

Adjective
Adverb
Part of the body (plural)
Part of the body (plural)
Adjective
Noun
Verb
Type of liquid
Noun
Verb ending in "ing"
Noun
Adjective
Adjective
Plural Noun
Plural Noun
Noun
Verb (past tense)
Part of the body (plural)
Adjective
Verb
Noun
Adjective

Edit: Edited because I was confusing myself. :(
slyjinks: (Two Face: Eeeeeeevil)
Details Of My Weekend With My Parents )

Oh, and the new icon was drawn by the wonderful [livejournal.com profile] neverwench. Isn't it keen?
slyjinks: (Dragon Queen: Ready For Battle)
My family is visiting, so I'm not online as much as I normally am. I'll be calling them later and heading out to the hotel where they're staying.

My afternoon with my parents. )

She-Ra comic scan: Disappearing Treasures )
slyjinks: (DigiSaph: Breakdance)
Random snippet from a couple of months ago, that bubbled into my mind today.

Me: Ian, Mary, and David have declared that the second best video game ever is Pong.

Kenny (Ian, Mary, and David's dad, my uncle): Hey. I know that one.

Me: I'd hope so.

Kenny: What's the best video game ever, then?

Me: Apparently something called "Ratchet and Clank." Maybe "Ratchet and Clank 2." It's one where you play a cute little furry animal that runs around blowing up robots.

Kenny: Ah. Good, good.

Me: Hmph. I dunno. Personally I'd like to play a video game where you play a robot that runs around blowing up cute little furry animals.

Kenny: You can't have that!

Me: Why not?

Kenny: It just wouldn't be right!

Me: What, it's okay for animals to blow up robots, but not the other way around?

Kenny: Well... yeah!

Me: You know, when history looks back on the Robot Revolution, they're going to trace the cause back to that attitude right there.
slyjinks: (Default)
A Nice Piece of Brass: A Christmas Story )

Royce-22 )

Lightning Needs To Stop Striking )

Scrapple!

Oct. 13th, 2004 03:37 pm
slyjinks: (NewSaph)
Mmmmm. Pig left-overs. )

February 2012

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