Is there a rule amongst gravediggers that they must dig 6 feet, no more, no less?
I’m going to request 8 feet.
Is there a rule amongst gravediggers that they must dig 6 feet, no more, no less?
I’m going to request 8 feet.
I just finished taking an art history course at Columbia. It’s the vague art portion of the stuff-you-need-to-know-to-be-a-pretentious-person core requirement of the university. I learned pretty much nothing—this was proven by the fact that on my final this morning I labeled every piece of art as an oil on canvas or marble creation from either 1510, 1810, or 1910—but I think I solidified a couple thoughts in my mind:
Namely, if you apply painstaking care and strict self-control, you can chisel out a masterpiece.
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Lois: Hey, Clark, are you ok? You’re super sweaty.
Clark: Well it’s as hot as the earth’s yellow sun in here, right?
Lois: Uh…no. It’s actually pretty cold, but why don’t you take off your suit jacket or something?
Clark: I can’t do that.
Lois: Why not?
Clark: Uh, p-p-pit stains.
Lois: Well you should really take it off and…why does your jacket look so bulky? Do you have something else underneath there?
Clark: No. What? No. Why would I have something else under my suit jacket?
Lois: I don’t know. It looks like you’ve got a blanket or, like, a cape back there.
Clark: A ca-? Psh. Ridiculous.
Lois: That would be kind of insane. You should at least loosen your tie, though. Wait, what is that tight, blue shirt you’re wearing under your clothes?
Clark: It’s, um, long underwear.
Lois: Why are you wearing full-body long underwear in the summer?
Clark: It helps me save…money.
Lois: That doesn’t even make sense. Long underwear definitely costs more than— Hey, what are you doing? Were you just blowing at your lap?
Clark: No. Well, no, yeah. There was a bit of lint.
Lois: Oh. Ha. I thought you were trying to use your breath to cool off your crotch or something.
Clark: Psh. So silly. Who has breath cold enough to chill through spandex briefs?!
Lois: You wear spandex briefs and long underwear?
Clark: What? No.
Lois: You just said—
Clark: No I didn’t. Who wears spandex briefs on top of a full-body spandex/polyester-blend suit?
Lois: I thought you said it was long underwear?
Clark: Yeah, right, it is. But still.
Lois: Um, yeah. And underneath a suit?
Clark: I know. I would be sweating my Kryptonian private parts off.
Lois: What?
Clark: What?
Lois: Nevermind.
Clark: Yeah, if I were wearing a cape and a 50% spandex, 46% polyester, 4% Lycra bodysuit, I mean, long underwear, and a package enhancing pair of stretchy briefs underneath this suit all summer, well I would probably be so sweaty I’d need to buy a new suit every day.
Lois: Wait, you do have a new suit every day! Sometimes you even leave in the middle of the day and come back in a new suit.
Clark: Just in times of human peril.
Lois: What?
Clark: I said that the Men’s Warehouse has a great big and tall selection.
Lois: No you didn’t.
Clark: I guarantee it.
Lois: Maybe you should go home.
Clark: I have no home.
Lois: What?
Clark: Uh…Look over there! It’s a bird! Or a plane!
Lois: Why would I care about a bird or a plane?
Clark: Because statistically speaking they’re still the safest way to…nevermind.
(That was the decidedly too long conversation I didn’t end up including in this CH post.)
You know how Oprah, on her show, gives the live studio audience awesome gifts and at some point during the taping will tell them to look under their seats to see exactly what awesome gift she’s giving and then they all shriek their enthusiasm as the camera pans around?
Why don’t these alleged Oprah fans just look under their seats as soon as they get there?
My 16-year-old brother is in Nice right now. This was his response to my parents’ how-are-you email:
“What do you mean, how am I? I’m in France! I just chill in a cafe for hours on end. And there are no fireworks laws here. Oh and I see a lot of topless girls on the beach, but they’re mostly like fifty.”
Cat Stevens knows what’s up.
Assistant: Don’t you think it’s about time that we make the no smoking sign permanent and not just a no-smoking-at-this-time light that will be on for the duration of every flight?
Chief Airplane Designer: [Lighting a cigarette] Not yet.
This song just started playing on my iTunes and I experienced a peculiar jolt of happiness. For a few seconds I couldn’t figure out why, and then a part of me remembered that this is the song that plays in 10 Things I Hate About You when Julia Stiles and Heath Ledger make-out while playing paint ball.
When I was 12, that scene was pretty much the definition of romantic. Years later, I can see that it was really just another silly, unrealistic scene in a teen romantic-comedy. But it doesn’t matter. It turns out that that 12 year-old definition of romance never completely goes away.
And, I don’t know about you, but I think that’s actually pretty great.
You’ve seen where Matt was, now see what his girlfriend was up to.
Made by our talented production team in a single afternoon last Friday.
Digg if you dig, of course.