You collect photos of lost gloves. I infer this from your sig: “I collect photographs of lost gloves.” I clicked the link in your sig. Mrs. Call and I quizically and alternately stare at the screen and at each other and reach the conclusion, “Yes, there is room on the internets for everything.”
But now… everywhere I go… I see lost gloves. There’re everywhere. Who knew? You, Mangetout, have chisled away a perceptive filter I was quite happy to have kept intact. Just this weekend I spotted no less than 12 lost gloves.
Sometimes… when no one is looking… I… feel… the urge to take a picture.
This rant is not pitworthy (barely read-worthy). So I pit you not. Instead I MPSIMS you! My [del]rage[/del] apathy burns with the warmth of a thousand care bears.
Yes, the one I had like this was when I found out that all BMWs have nostrils. Suddenly, everytime I was on the road driving, I would just sit there scanning the fronts of every car behind me to look for BMW nostrils… They’re reallllly obvious, yet I’d never noticed.
I read on another board a member’s claim that he collected hair barrettes that had washed up on the beach and interpreted it to obviously be a joke… until he posted pictures of several hundred he’d found.
That was his deal, daily searches of the strandline for lost barrettes.
Somebody here suggested I put ‘anal’ in front of car names. Gee, I thought, that sounds pretty boring. But then what do ya know, pretty soon I’m seeing anal probes, anal rangers, anal wranglers…
Now, I can’t even see the lost gloves…one of them may be mine!
Someone on the school bus muttered something as we crossed RR tracks (this was in 1978)–I asked what he said. He replied, “I’m not going to tell you because then you’ll always do it and it’s nothing, really.”
To this day, I wonder what he said. I wish he had told me, then I wouldn’t wonder!
eleanorigby you just reminded me: In university I dated a woman who claimed to have mastered the technique of astral projection. She said she could teach me how. Now, at the time I was a die-hard fundie and considered such knowledge occult or satanic (like that’s a bad thing?). The relationship ended badly (over other matters), but to this day I’m often tempted to look her up and ask, “Can you show me now?”
Not because I believe her, I just wanna know her so-called technique
What I hate is when you go see the doctor and instead of being cool and just quietly sliding on that single latex glove, he extends his hand proudly up in the air like some trophy, pulls the base out from his wrist like a rubber band and lets it go with a menacing “POW!”
Why do they do this crap? Now where he wants to put that glove has suddenly constricted like a hungry boa forcing even your butt atoms to move through single file.
Me too! And not only do I now see them, but I pick them up. I lay them lovingly on a windowsill or a letterbox, where they may be found again by the owner despairingly retracing his steps. And everytime I take an extra second to adjust the glove so that it will look its best, I think fleetingly of Mangetout.
My girlfriend bought a package of 3 pairs of socks yesterday. When she got them home, there were only 2-1/2 pair (five individual socks). I think we’ll be scratching our heads for awhile about this one.
