May I suggest soaking the head in isopropyl until you have this cleared up and just buy a standard toothbrush to use in the meantime?
ETA: You know, unless it’s getting to be time to replace the head anyway. Even so, keeping the electric toothbrush on standby until the strep is gone is probably good economy.
Something stinks in my fridge and I’m afraid to find out what it is.
I was going to suggest giving them to the kids, but then I remembered that I didn’t care for Palmer or other Easter chocolates as a child…way too waxy!
Oh yeah…a special “FUCK YOU” to the bitch in the shitty little Pontiac who decided to ignore the whole “oncoming traffic has the right-of-way” thing and tried to make a left turn in front of me. What the fuck was up with you stopping in the middle of the intersection??? If you’re going to do something stupid, at least commit to it! When you have your inevitable massive collision, I do hope you don’t hurt anyone besides your own dumb self.
Unfortunately, this is one of those problems that a) does not go away if you ignore it, and b) punishes procrastination exponentially.
I read this as, “May I suggest soaking your head in isopropyl…” at first. Well, that might work…
[QUOTE=purplehorseshoe]
Unfortunately, this is one of those problems that a) does not go away if you ignore it, and b) punishes procrastination exponentially.
[/QUOTE]
Yeah, I went for option b) once. Turns out, once whatever it is becomes sentient, it’s illegal to throw it out. On the bright side, it’s pretty good about paying rent.
I was relieved to learn it was not the refried beans … and only the spinach. I think that the smell of rotten cooked beans is one of the worst smells ever.
Also: I’d like to tell DVB to stfu and let it go. He’s an asshole and why he cares at all about me at this point is beyond me. Seriously–just walk away. I find it really hard to believe that he doesn’t have other things to worry about than me. Go. Away. Now.
Ew… Moldy refried beans is one of the worst smells ever.
Thanks to a bizarre series of events involving my cat, the fridge door, and a jar of salsa I just finished cleaning up a huge mess in the kitchen and I have what I fear is a broken pinky finger on my left hand.
You’d think that my boyfriend would’ve noticed either me screaming (first in pain then at the cat to get the hell out of the kitchen) or the glass jar shattering. He was sitting less than 20 feet away. I poke my head out of the kitchen and say “I’m fine, thanks for asking.” He looks up from his phone and says, “Did you say something?” The level of obliviousness with that one sometimes… :mad:
It’s really hard to type without using my left pinky… It’s turning interesting colors… maybe I should get this looked at.
If you’re not going to bring it to urgent care tonight, I’d suggest soaking that hand in ice water for a few hours.
Once again, the power went out while I wasn’t home. It was probably because the water line got broken and the power got shut off because nobody wants to do the funky chicken at work. They save that sort of thing for after a couple of beers after work.
So…the power came back on and my swamp cooler didn’t have water and the pump burnt out. For those who don’t know, its also called an evaporative cooler…water runs over pads and a fan blows water filled air into my house. It only cools the inside about 10 degrees from the outside, but it feels much nicer than using the AC. This will be the third pump I’ve replaced due to the idiots are digging the water lines up without looking at where their shovels are.
And…Bill gave me a dead tree book with more stories of the Cthulhu Mythos. I was happily reading a new (to me) story when I had to take a bio break. I left the book open on my desk and when I returned, there was a stick pin with a black bead stuck in the page RIGHT where I left off reading. I don’t have stick pins laying around, I have cats. I trust my cats to defend me from the RatKing’s minions, but Bill’s cat is not as happy as he could be.
The smug look I saw on his face makes me worry.
Is Bill’s cat a thumbcat? Because if he is, you have reason to worry. Even if he isn’t a thumbcat, he has urine and feces to make his views known.
Motherfucker. An enormous fucking black fly (possibly horsefly or maybe even a bee, I dunno) bolted through my window at 245 fucking am and made a beeline (ha) for my fucking head. I ran out of the room and now I don’t know where it fucking is. How am I supposed to fucking sleep tonight with a huge carnivorous fucking insect stalking me???
I don’t even goddamn know how it got in. There’s fucking screens on these windows. I really need to get mosquito netting for my bed.
Be careful not to inhale it during your sleep
Late coming back from lunch on Burbank Bl. in Burbank, CA. Due to an accident. You know, it’s rained for a whole minute, so everybody skids. There’s debris in the road, one car on a flatbed being towed away, the other car sits a bit in the intersection.
The remaining car has a smashed headlight, broken bumper, crinkled hood. BUT… the windshield on the passenger side only of the car is shattered outward, has blood stains. The passenger is on a stretcher being loaded in the EMT bus. Driver was outside talking to police, EMTs, had no injuries. THAT’S because the genius in the passenger seat decided on wearing no seat belt.
How I was so tempted to add injury to injury to this poor schmuck. WEAR A SEATBELT, ya fucking moron!
If you don’t wear a seat belt, fuck you. Take the Darwin award and leave.
The cat brought a live vole upstairs at 2.36am this morning.
bleary eyes
I couldn’t sleep last night because Stickman accidentally ran over Slim’s Razor scooter that he got for his birthday last month and now the flange (is that the right word) on the back is bent and sort of cracked. Stickman assures me that his dad (who has welding stuff) can fix it but I don’t want to see that look of disappointment on Stickmom’s face. Like we did this on purpose. DUDE. She didn’t even give him the scooter…Sticksister did!
Not thread-worthy, and maybe not even a rant. Talking to my g/f last night about going to the doctor. Don’t remember how it came up, but I mentioned that the last time I was at the doc, my bloodwork came back perfect for the first time in years.
She she says that she hasn’t been to the doctor in 5 or 6 years. “Except,” say I, “for the girl Dr., right?” Wrong…not even an annual visit for that period of time.
Look, this kind of shocked me…I’m not sure it should, because at this point it’s a stretch to consider it any of my business. But is it common for women to skip those for that long? It doesn’t seem like a good idea.
Flatlined, if your swamp cooler is set up properly, it should be able to run for a while even with no water coming in. In all of the swamp coolers I’ve seen, the bottom pan is filled with water as a reservoir, with a float to shut off the water when it reaches the top. The drain plug should look like this with the vertical tube to allow the reservoir to fill up, but drain out if it gets too full.
With 3-4 inches of water in the bottom of the pan, the pump should be able to run for at least a couple of hours without water coming in.
It’s not really a good idea, at least for the importance of getting Pap smears, having a regular breast check, and making sure everything’s OK down there. It’s not just for Pill refills/pregnancy/pre-menopause/menopause that you want to be seen by a gynecologist. For instance, my sister had problems with cysts on her ovaries starting in her mid-20s or so.
But there are a lot of women who just don’t bother, and a certain number who just get squeamish or something about anyone poking around down there.
(I admit upfront that this is a weak mini rant, and that I’m pretty lucky that this all that I have to complain about right now.)
To the cop who pulled me over last night:
So I pulled around your slow-ass moving car in the parking lot because I wanted to get home and at the speed you were creeping along, that probably wasn’t going to happen until next October if I demurely stayed behind you. And you pulled me over because of this. Please note: I don’t take issue with you doing this. If this was an illegal stunt that I pulled, then mea culpa. You have a job to do, whatever.
But the attitude you gave me was completely stupid and counterproductive. Let me explain why.
You got out of your car and demanded to know why I had the temerity to do what I did. I politely told you that it was because I thought it was okay to go around you. That set you off in some little titter of a rant about how it wasn’t okay. Fine, lady, whatever. I give you my license and registration. You go back to your car to do something, then you come back and ask me again to come up with a good explanation for my apparently egregious criminal conduct. WTF? Like, what purpose does this question serve? It’s not like there’s a right answer. I either broke the law or I didn’t.
Anway, as I repeated what I had just told you moments before, it dawned on me that what you really wanted for me to do was to sacrifice a little dignity and apologize for my sins. “I’m sorry”, I say. “Really, I’m sorry!” I said this sincerely, too. Was wringing my hands with guilt and everything.
But that didn’t pacify you, for some reason. Not that I’m expected this to get me out of a ticket or anything, but I thought my display of contrition would cause you to simmer down a little. But it didn’t. Oddly, it seemed to egg you on more.
You went back to your vehicle to do a search on me. Then you come back and asked me have I ever been pulled over before. Since me and you both know the answer to that question–and most importantly, you should know that I know that you know the answer to that question since I just saw you run a check on me in your car–I really gotta wonder what purpose does this question serve. To see if I’m an idiot liar? Okay, so what if I’m idiot liar, that’s not a crime, is it? What, you gonna arrest me if I deny having ever been pulled over? What if I take the 5th on that question? What are you gonna do then? Why are you wasting time with this line of inquiry? Can’t you just write me up and send me home already? I’m hungry, and when I’m hungry, I have less accountability for my actions.
But I answer your stupid question anyway. “Yes, I recently got pulled over for a busted headlight–”
“That’s not the only reason you got pulled over! You’ve been pulled over speeding before, I just saw it in your history. When I ask you if you’ve even been pulled over and you tell me you only got pulled over being a headlight then–”
Suddenly, it was like the real world had become the SDMB and an annoying poster was assaulting me with a strawman straight out of The Dummies Guide to Winning an Argument Using Nothing But Fallacies. My inner ywtf had no choice but to open her mouth.
“What? Now what I minute, I didn’t say “only”. I just told you that I had recently been pulled over for a busted headlight.” (This admittedly reads seems pretty mild, but in reality, there was some serious wrath behind it. Just trust me.)
I can’t remember what you said after I corrected you, but fortunately, you got out of my face and went back to your car. And then you come back, fill my ears with more gratituous ranting about how wreckless I’d been and how I should apologize to the whole town of Laurel for endangering the lives of every pedestrian in that parking lot, and then inform me that you should be citing me for 3 different violations worth almost $1000 in fines in total.
And then you issue me a warning. All of that drama and rudeness, and all I got out of it was a warning.
The next time you pull me over, just issue me a ticket and let me get on my way, please. Or even better, just issue me a warning and let me get on my way. Call me crazy, but I’d rather be fined and inconvenienced than suffer through your pathetic little power tripping routine. I like having respect for police officers, but when you come out me like a jerk, it’s hard for me to trust you and others wearing your uniform. You might wanna reflect on this the next time a citizen seems to go out of their way to make your job unpleasant. Just sayin’. Thanks!