slyjinks: (Batman: Squirt)
Me: *walks into the lab, heading for the office, which is a small room accessed through the back of the production lab.*
Royce: *announcing loudly* "I fluxed my pants."
Me: *starts laughing. Continues laughing loudly as I finish my trip to the back office.*


Royce: *starting to solder something. Jerks his hand away.* "I'm going to need something to hold this. These wires heat up quickly!"
Me: *heading out of the room, commenting casually* "Yeah. Rumor has it they're conductors or some such."


Me: *wanders into the front receptionist area, heading towards the coffee pot in the back. I stop suddenly, blink, and turn around, walking back out. Said casually to the receptionist in passing,* "You know, I bet my quest to obtain a cup of coffee would be a lot more successful if I actually brought my mug with me."
Receptionist: *bursts out laughing.*

Aaaaaand it's only 9:30 AM. God help us all.

Bad Patient

May. 6th, 2007 07:49 pm
slyjinks: (Two Face: Eeeeeeevil)
So, I just found out that my mom, [ 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: (DigiSaph: Breakdance)
So, I walked into the room where we've been doing systems testing all week, and there was my supervisor.

Supervisor: "Yeah, I've just been having a chat with Chief about you." (We have a few Sailors assigned to us, and an E-7 ET has been my partner for the 12-8 shift.)

Me: "Oh?"

Supervisor: "Yeah, he says you're a real hard worker, a real turn-to type, very bright, that you know your stuff."

Me: "Cool! Thanks!"

Supervisor: "What the hell is wrong with you? What're we paying you for, anyway?"

Me: "Huh?"

Supervisor: "You're supposed to be driving him crazy! Constantly ask him all sorts of stupid questions, until he's tearing out what's left of his hair! I don't want to see any more hair on his head!"

Me: "But... his hair's already so short he couldn't possibly grab it!"

Supervisor: "That's why you bring in a pair of tweezers and offer them to him! Dammit, man, don't you know this stuff?!" (Yes, my supervisor addresses me with the phrase, "Dammit, man.") "Drive him nuts! No more hair!"

Me: "Uhm, sure. I'll get right no that!"

Supervisor: "See, there you go again, being all eager and stuff!"

Me: "You'll get over it."

Supervisor: "That's what I want to hear! See you tomorrow!"

And he wandered off.


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: (Confused Haze)
Note: I am not going to go into any of the political ramifications of what happened as a result of the events of 9-11-01, and I am not going to argue the rightness or wrongness of any responses with anyone. Responses that attempt to draw me into such arguments will not only get ignored, they may be deleted; you can use your own journals as your sounding board. The anniversary of the event put me in mind to tell my story of that day and what happened after, and that is the only purpose this entry serves.

I just remembered I'm long-winded! )
slyjinks: (Emerald Dawn: Wink)
First off, be warned that this isn't really a very raunchy tale, as I was fairly tame in when I was in the military. I've had in my life two full boy friends with whom I did have sex, a make-out buddy that never made it as far as a more-than-make-out buddy, one one night stand, and a couple of near one night stands. This is the tale of one of the near ones, prompted by the discovery of the old card I received when it happened.

Story Behind Cut. )
slyjinks: (Default)
Cut for length and swearing. )
slyjinks: (Default)
A Nice Piece of Brass: A Christmas Story )

Royce-22 )

Lightning Needs To Stop Striking )
slyjinks: (Scared Fleetwind)
"Confessions of an Impulse Buyer"
or "The Siren Song of Knock-Offs"

A Photojourney

Cut for length and pictures. )
slyjinks: (Default)
Some of you have already heard this story.

So, on a whim I checked out today. Why? Because years ago it used to have this cool 'build your own Barbie' thing and I decided to see if it was still around. It wasn't, but I played around with this 'design your own Barbie horse' thing (that can't be purchased, sadly). I gave it silver-metallic hoof polish, a MLP style ass-icon, and then put an insane amount of ribbons, bows, beads, flowers, and sea shells in its mane and tail. Because of the sheer amount of piddly stuff on there, when I got to the frame where you name the horse, I named it 'Overkill' and clicked 'Next.' I get:

"Opps! Did you mean to use a naughty word? Go back and try again!" And I'm totally picturing this in the stereotypical squeaky Barbie voice (which happens, by the way, to sound an awful lot like the voice I've always imagined for SapphireBreeze). It cracked me up pretty bad. 'Overkill' is a naughty word!

Well, if you've got to censor someone, you might as well at least be chipper about it, right?
slyjinks: (Scared Fleetwind)
So. I wake up this morning and start stumbling towards the bathroom. My housemate stops me and asks me, "Hey, did I leave a jug of milk in there?"

That's right. Wants to know if he left a jug of milk. In the bathroom.

I look in, and sure enough, there's an open gallon jug of milk sitting on the back of the toilet. He grabs it and heads off to put it in the fridge.

The first thing going through my head is "EEEEEEEW!" The second is, "I am so glad I don't drink milk."

slyjinks: (DigiSaph: Air Guitar)
First the questions from Ironbite )

Now the questions from Demonqueen666. )

And now, the story of my watch last night while on duty, which I shall call 'Roving Through Hell and High-water' )

Besides all that, I got to watch the dolphins playing in the basin today. One kept picking something (probably a piece of trash thrown in the water by some Sailor :p ) up with his nose and tossing it behind him. They were very cute.
slyjinks: (DigiSaph: Wink)
This really happened, but the retelling was inspired a recent Koi comic.

The Tale of Joke 1 and Joke 2 )
slyjinks: (DigiSaph Large Yawn)
Yes, this is another entry about life in the Navy. If you do not care for such content, it may be best... not to read the Live Journal of a Sailor.

Sea story and meme. )
slyjinks: (Fem J. Hook: WTF?)
Repeat after me: Sailors are not Soldiers.

And here is an example. )

February 2012

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