Pushing a Door Open Is for Saps

I used to work part-time at the Students’ Union bar when I was at Edinburgh.

It had two glass doors, an entrance and an exit. Both of them opened outwards.

The standard procedure for a student trying to get into the bar was:

  • Go up to the Exit door and try to push it in.
  • Realize that it didn’t open inwards.
  • Claw at the glass door, hoping to locate an invisible handle that would allow them to pull it open.
  • Realize there was no invisible handle on the outside of the Exit door.
  • Reluctantly go to the door marked Entrance.
  • Take a firm hold on the (visible) handle on the Entrance door, marked PULL.
  • Push.
  • Realize that the door opened outwards, and, finally, pull.

(Of course, they may have been misled by us part-time bar-working people who used to go in the Exit door regularly. Because we knew how to thump it just so, so that it would spring open slightly and allow us to grasp the edge and pull it all the way open. Or shatter into a myriad razor-edged glass fragments that would slash us to ribbons and spill our life’s blood over the carpeting. But that was a chance we just had to take, I guess.)

The WalMart vs the Rest of the Retail World threads are all over the place here. If you care to search, that is. I hardly ever do. Care that is.
Yeah, Target is much cleaner, well lit, easier on the eyes, etc, however, WalMart does have a larger contingency of stuff as I alluded to above. This makes the one-stop-shopping aspect of it more appealing.
I go to Target if I know for sure they have what I need, I go to WM if I’m desperate. WM also has really good prices on clearance electronics. I’ve bought a portable DVD player and a DVD burner for the PC from them. Cheap.

Bibliocat, The last time I had to split cord wood a bottle of good Scotch was necessary. Not only was it a great motivational tool, it very much aided in going night-night. The next morning, however, was not so good. A different sort of aid was needed, a guillotine would have been nice.

I do not have a blue bike.
I don’t have one that’s red.
Nor have I got a helmet
to perch upon my head.
No baskets and no streamers,
no fanch horn or bell.
No bike seat made for torture
to make my hiney swell.
I am just fine without a bike.
No worries I could crash.
And now it’s time to end this thing,
before my poem you bash.

:smiley:

Target, YAAAYYY!!
Wally World, BOOOOOOOOOOO!!

That is all.

I have been concerned, throughout this thread, that the Issue of the Dead Mouse has not been addressed. So, I shall address it.

Rue, why in God’s name was there a dead mouse in your bicycle bucket and how could your drop that information in your (long winded) Target-door-nose-bonking and tahr toob story without further exposition? Hmmm?

So, I need to know:

  • the approximate date of death
  • was there an odor
  • the color of the mouse
  • the structural integrity of the mouse (i.e., was it crushed by an allen wrench?)
  • were the tools rendered unusable by the presence of dead mousie
  • did the children see it. if so, what was their reaction
  • by the way what was your reaction? I’m assuming “scream like a girl” since you’ve omitted the details

The mouse issue thus dealt with, I shall recap my Memorial Day Weekend. I spent most of the day Saturday working in my flower beds. I thought moving hostas was a big chore until I heard of the wholesale garden and raspberry bed move detailed up yonder by Uncommon Sense. (Why am I thinking “sense” had nothing to do with that weekend project? :wink: ) But hey, it was HARD WORK for me, seeing as I’m several months pregnant and hopping up and down digging and transplanting ain’t as easy as it usually is. Hubby spent the time trimming and mowing.

Sunday, we recovered. Sunday night, we cowered as “tornadic activity” moved through the area. Monday, I basked in the sun while the children froliked in the back yard.

I must say thoughts of Swampy’s pool entered my mind few times on Saturday, as I toiled in the hot sun. Walking like Egpyptians and its possible pool-implications, however, I never even fathomed.

-Ellen. (rotund)

I am eating bean and ham soup. It is beyond yummy.

No superintendent yet.

We heathen barbarian Canadians don’t have Target. We do have quickly spreading Walmarts. Aslo, Krispy Kreme is erupting like a plague across Ontario. Well, at least Toronto. In a show of Canadian solidarity, I will buy a doughnut at Tim Horton’s today. Death to the spreading plague of Krispy Kreme!
I actually kind of like Krispy Kreme. I just object to how fast it’s taken over the doughnut market here.

Taters Love Shack was indeed played and sung very loudly both Saturday and Sunday afternoons. We played lots of stuff on the boom box. A whole lot of disco was played. Underwater disco dancing is also fun, as is pool float disco dancing. However, most of our pool efforts were in Synchronized Pool Floating and Underwater Egyptian Walking. Underwater Egyptian walking is kinda hard to do but a heck of a lot of fun. I encourage all of you to find a pool and underwater Egyptian walk at least once this summer. Preferably while Walk Like An Egyptian is playing. You could also underwater Egyptian walk to Pam Tillis’s Queen of Denial if you wish. El;len may not want to try this since it sounds like she’s getting to the point where walking like an Amurrkin is getting kinda hard.

Tupug the poem was lovely. Perhaps you can sell it to Hallmark. :smiley:

Lissla ain’t nuttin’ better donut wise than when the “Hot Now” sign is lit up at the Krispy Kreme.

twicks take down the christmas lights and string flamingo and palm tree lights all over the place. That’d be real class.

Hey Rue - What’s up with your sig? Do you have a name change in the works? If you do can I still call you Rue, or will I have to call you something else? What names are you thinking of? I like Tim. Tim’s a good name. Tim’s my middle name, and my confirmation name, so if you want to get all religious about it, I have two Tim’s in my name.

I went to see a movie over the weekend (Coffee and Cigarettes by that weirdo Jim Jarmusch. It was pretty good, but not great. I could have done without a lot of the pieces.) and I managed to walk into a door that wouldn’t open. I guess the movie management wanted everybody to go out the doors that were propped open, but I decided to try a closed one, and it didn’t open. So I had to go around to the open doors. I felt kind of dumb.

-lightingtool (kind of hung-over and rambly this morning)

Same here. I’ve got dozens of 'em (not for the bike for the guitars) but only one full set. All the others are the same two (guitar adjustment type) sizes. I swear I never bought any of them, they’ve just sort of turned up. And you can’t throw away tools can you?

I went neither to Wal-Mart or Target this weekend. Which is unusual, because I go to Target all the time. I don’t own a bike, either. I think my status as an American is in question…

I do have Allen wrenches, but I don’t recall ever having someone named Allen over to my place. You’d think I’d remember that.

Small Clanger you can never ever throw any of those wrenches Allen makes away. If you do, they will all disappear and you will need one. That’s Allen’s Wrench Rule.

BTW, welcome to the Rue MMP (cept this week it’s a TMP cause Rue takes all Federal and some obscure State of Ohio Monday holidays off). Come back and visit often.

My, what a lot of things to comment on.

First, back to my painting the hall and why it is such a big deal. I know everyone has eagerly awaited my arrival in the thread to hear about this, so I won’t delay any longer, although I do have comments to make about bikes and spending the day reading two books and several other topics already mentioned. I know how anxious all of you are to hear about my painting experience.

You all remember, I’m sure, that I first painted a room (and by “first painted” I mean it was the first time in my life that I had done any wall painting) a little less two years ago right before I moved into my new house. (The house is not new–it’s a 1930’s California bungalow, but it was new to my ownership.) At that time, I mentioned that I had learned two things about painting–I’m not very good at it, and I don’t much like doing it. In the intervening months, nothing has happened to change my mind about either my ability to paint nor my fondness for doing it. However, I have a very little hallway. Just a little mostly square hall connecting the bedrooms and the bathroom with doors for the closet and the linen closet. It was painted a very dingy white and I had much brighter white paint (left from when I had someone paint my kitchen) and it seemed a silly thing to hire someone to paint a room this tiny.

So I painted it. And I did a much better job of it than I had done the last time I painted–so it seems I am capable of learning to paint, if not well, than at least adequately. I am now somewhat proud of my ability to paint a hall. However, I still don’t like painting, and so don’t want to become any better at it. I’m also the messiest painter over the age of 8. First, I got paint on parts of my body that were covered by my clothes. I don’t know how, but I did. And in my hair (I know how this happened; I bent down to paint the baseboard and put my head against the wall. The previously painted, still wet, wall.) I put down plastic and taped it so it would stay in one place and therefore not allow paint to get on my wood floor. This did not prevent me from getting paint on the bottom of my shoes and tracking it around. Nor did it prevent me from getting paint on my feet after I took my shoes off to avoid tracking paint all around. I found a perfect droplet of paint in my bedroom a full three feet from where I had been painting. I know I somehow did this–paint does not just appear as a droplet on the floor without some help–but I don’t know how I did it. I will undoubtably find paint somewhere else where it could not possible be, but is, and I’m waiting for someone to point out to me that, although I’ve showered twice, I have paint on the back of my neck or in my ear or some place like that.

I also managed to pinch my finger when I closed the step ladder, wipe my arm across my face and in doing so completely obscure my sight by getting paint all over one lens of my glasses, drop a paintbrush (handle end down) on my toe and give myself a nasty bruise on my shin with a almost full can of paint.

I, all by myself, am the Three Stooges of painting. :wally

Kalley I have a suggestion. Offer to paint something at work. Then you’ll get hurt. Then you can have a big worker’s comp. claim and retire. :smiley: Or even better, next time you paint, hire someone to video you painting. Then market the video. You’ll make a mint. Comedic gold there I tell ya! Or better yet, just hire someone to paint. It’s much much safer that way. :stuck_out_tongue:

I know of the hallway you speak of btw. Well, I don’t know of your specific hallway being as it’s in your house which I’ve never seen, but a friend of mine lives in one of those bungalow type houses and he has a hallway like that. He made one of the bedrooms into a den/study. It looks nice. I sometimes spend the night at this friend’s house. He has a nice bedroom too. I’ll leave it up to you all’s imagination as to how I know that.

I believe the name for this type of person is “Doork.”

It’s so obvious Swampy. When you went over, your host gave you the Grand Tour so you’d know where the bathroom and such is for that night and when he got to his room he said “This room is my bedroom. It’s is a nice room. Do NOT pee in my bedroom.” Elementary.

Ha! I was kidding about the mouse Ellen. It was just to see who actually reads these things and more importantly pays attention. So far, it’s just you. There was a mouse-like thing in there. It was a wad of old dog hair and dust. I poked it with a spare Allen wrench and when it didn’t spring at me, I just threw it away. No girl-like shrieking at all. (At. All!)

Oddly, the Little Woman has a Mouse of her very own. It’s a little Black & Decker sander. That’s her power tool.

I’ve already changed my name lighting Tim Tim tool. How do you like the new one?

If the air was leaking from the valve, the valve innards were probably loose – they just screw into the stem, and can be tightened with needlenose pliers or a special tool. You really wasted your money. :stuck_out_tongue:

Dear Gunslinger,
Shut up.

Yer pal,
-Rue.

And the name makes you go “heh heh” if you have an inner 14 year old boy.
Good to know that my inner 14 year old boy is alive and well, because I confess, I was having some strange thoughts about Rue there for a second. (Not that there’s anything wrong with that)

(And not that kind of thoughts…Jeez, what’s with you people?)

Shows how much you know. The ‘special tool’ costs more than the…um…innertube thingy. I’d provide a cite but there’s something I can’t remember.

Ordinarily I would have posted something long before now, but I’m kinda’ drawing a blank and you guys are doing really well. I don’t want to jinx it.

Maybe I’ll just wait and post something from left field on page three.

Hehheh Gunslinger and Uncommon Sense said “special tool.” Hehheh