Mr. Me

I was riding with my friend the other day when he adjusted the vents on the a/c so that they were no longer blowing directly at me.

Me: Uh, no. You don't get to do that, Mister.

Him: Don't you Mister me.

Me: I'll Mister you all I want, Mister.

Nope, that doesn't sound gay at all.

The sun is a mass of incandescent gas a giant nuclear furnace

Tortellini's interpretation* of why it never rains here in Vegas:



I think she's onto something.









*I need to get that girl some real software so she can start designing shirts on threadless. Perhaps she could pay for college that way.

I'm employee of the month number one crumb making son of a gun

How to botch a job interview in 32 easy steps:

1. Schedule your interview for the hottest part of the day (this is crucial for reasons that will be apparent later).

2. Be under the impression that your job interview is exactly one week before the actual interview is scheduled to take place.

3. Realize that the letter you received says you're actually scheduled for the following week. But don't realize this until exactly 5:00 p.m. on the day before you think you have to go, so that it's too late to call and find out for sure.

4. Call anyway and leave a message saying that you were confused about the date.

5. Talk to them the next morning to find out that you don't go in that day, but rather one week from then.

6. Hope that the fact that you're too retarded to even get the day right isn't enough to make them not want to hire you.

7. On the real day of the interview, bring a change of clothes with you to work because you don't want to be wearing long pants and a long sleeved shirt all day when it's 112 degrees outside.

8. Change into the pants just before leaving the office to go to the interview, but leave the other shirt on so that your "interview shirt" doesn't get sweaty on the drive over.

9. Make sure that the last thing you do before leaving the office to drive across town is go take a leak.

10. Notice some whiteheads on your chin while urinating, and pop them. This ensures that they will leak that kind of clear, kind of bloody zit fluid for the entire drive out to the interview.

11. Fail to realize that you've got split stream whilst peeing with no hands (because you're too busy popping zits to pay attention).

12. Allow the split stream to hit your shirt tail.

13. Rinse the shirt tail off in the sink, and hope the urine smell doesn't stay with you.

14. Get in the car and burn your arm on the seatbelt buckle. Repeat until you've got a minimum of three burn marks on your arm.

15. Drive across town in a car that is at least 150 degrees inside, and the a/c can't bring the temperature down enough so that you're not sweating for a half hour straight.

16. Make sure that you do not cut your hair before the job interview, so that you sweat even more than you normally would while driving across town in a car that's way too friggin' hot.

17. Arrive early enough that you can justify a stop at 7-11 to get a drink since you've been sweating profusely for thirty minutes or so.

18. Drink the entire bottle of water before going into the building where you're being interviewed.

19. Sit in the parking lot and change into the shirt that you didn't actually pee all over.

20. Make sure to perform the last step just as a bunch of people come out of the building so that you look like a classy guy sitting shirtless in a car in the parking lot.

21. Once you've changed shirts, realize that you forgot to bring a belt, and that your pants are baggy, so you can't tuck your shirt in.

22. Enter the building looking extra classy. It's okay. You're kind of in the ghetto anyway, so they're probably used to it.

23. Make sure you're early enough that you have to sit in the hall for half an hour.

24. Make eye contact with one of the guys who is going to be interviewing you, so that he feels obligated to come introduce himself.

25. Sit there looking like an asshole while that same guy walks by you another three or four times before calling you into the interview room.

26. Stumble and stammer around the second question they ask you. Fail to give them the most obvious answer - The one that should've been first on your mind, and probably the one they were looking for.

27. Regret drinking the entire bottle of water before the interview, because you're only a few minutes in and you really have to pee.

28. Fail to give a satisfactory answer to at least two more questions, and maybe even more than that.

29. Come across as arrogant and cocky when they ask what makes you ideal for the job.

30. Leave all three interviewers with the impression that your long term career goals include trying to take over their position.

31. Go back to the office and second guess every answer you gave.

32. Try to figure out what other jobs you can apply for because you're obviously not getting this one.

Nothing here matters the spiders get fatter

Once again, it's time to share the highlights from my TA evaluations from last semester. As always, these are taken verbatim from the evaluations themselves.


The Lab
What was your favorite lab exercise? Why?
- Animal part, cuz I like to cut
- The pig dissection because I thought I never would cut up a pig, but I did it anyway

What was your least favorite lab exercise? Why?
- Grasshopper - smelly
- The field trip because I'm lazy and don't like to hike
- Earthworm dissection. 50% ethanol + water + Annelid = semi crul death to worm


The Lab Instructor
Assess your lab instructor's knowledge about the topics covered
- You know a lot. Go you!
- A for all-knowing!

What were his/her strong points?
- His demonstration of the root tip model

How could he/she improve?
- Don't be a plant expert. Fish is cooler. <')}}}>< *
- Get a pig dissection shirt
- If he went back to church
- Listen to better music
- Tell funnier jokes
- Lose the earring you pirate!







*That was my lame attempt to re-create the fish drawing that accompanied the comment.

Left alone in a dark room with a mouth full of prescription

An online exchange with SilentKid about how well I'm coping with all the uncertainty in my life:

Me: Could you just go ahead and kill me now? Thanks. I appreciate it.

SilentKid: I'll be there soon. Get prepared.

Me: I'm shaving my scrotum as I type this. Wait, that's not what you meant? I have nothing of value, so it's not worth the effort to put together a last will and testament.

It's a new generation telling it the way they feel

I logged into facebook a couple of days ago and saw this as Togers' status update:

"This one time, I beat up a hooker, she was bleeding everywhere. One Shamwow, cleaned up the whole mess. Ring it out, you could do it again"

It shows how up to date Togers is on not so current events.

It may be my proudest moment as a father.

Fuel burning fast on an empty tank

Last time I filled my car with gas, the pump didn't shut off automatically and I ended up overfilling my tank. There was a small puddle underneath my car that reminded me of a story from when I was an undergraduate and spent my Saturdays working at a gas station.

One particular Saturday, my boss' son was having a bad day. It had been one customer after another complaining about this or that. He was a little frazzled. Then one woman came in demanding that we refund her for a gallon of gas. The pump hadn't shut off, and "at least a gallon" had spilled all over the bay.

Normally, he would've just reached in the register and handed her the two dollars. Instead, he said, "Let's go out and have a look."

There was a small puddle of gas, but it was maybe $0.25 worth at the most. He told her that, but she kept insisting that it was much more.

Finally he snapped. He said, "Look Lady, you want to see what a gallon of gas looks like? THIS is what a gallon of gas looks like!"

He then proceeded to pump an entire gallon onto the concrete.

It's probably my favorite* gas station story ever.









*Narrowly edging out the time that I called a customer a butthole, he tried to get me fired for "cursing" at him, then my boss called him worse.

You don't even know what it means to take your own advice

Today one of my friends called to tell me that she was breaking up with her boyfriend. It'd been a while since we last talked, so after she'd told me all about it, she asked me about any updates regarding Girl Who Won't Be My Girlfriend.

Me: I took her out to dinner last weekend, and we had a really good talk. She's called me every day since then, and she wants to do something tomorrow night. She's also asked me to have lunch with her tomorrow and the day after. Of course I said yes to all of those things, but I'm not sure I should have.

Her: Oh stop it. Just go out tomorrow night and have fun with her. Do you want my advice?

Me: Sure.

Her: I think you should invite her to spend the night at your place, wait until she falls asleep, and then rape her.



I think it's time to stop taking advice from my friends.

If Jesus drove a motorhome

Friday night I took Tortellini out with me and a few of my friends. We were walking on the Strip when a mini-van did a u-turn right next to us. The guy in the passenger seat had long brown hair and a beard.

Me: Did you see that? I think that was Jesus riding shotgun.

Friend 1: Jesus doesn't ride shotgun. Jesus is in the driver's seat.

Friend 2: Uh, I don't think so. I think God is in the driver's seat and Jesus is riding shotgun.

Me: Actually, I'd be willing to bet that both Jesus and God have mastered the whole teleportation thing.

Friend 1: I don't know about that. It didn't really help Him escape the whole crucifixion thing.


So when my friends and I die and spend the rest of eternity in Hell, at least you'll all know why.

So you say I've got a dirty mind I'm a mean go getter

I don't know at what age seeing stuff like this stops being funny.



I do know that I haven't reached that age yet though.

Purple toupee will show the way when summer brings you down

Friend 1: Your hair is getting really gray. I haven't seen you for almost a month, and I can definitely tell the difference.

Me: I know. It's been doing that for a long time. I think it's just accelerating now.

Friend 1: Must be stress. Have you considered dying it? You should dye it.

Me: I'm not going to dye it. I've pretty much resigned myself to the fact that I'm going to have a full head of white hair within the next five years. I just hope that girls are serious when they say they dig the look of a distinguished gentleman.

Friend 2: You can't start dying your hair. You're only 34. What are you going to do, dye it for the next forty years?

Me: I know, right? Doing that would be the equivalent of a guy who is going bald resorting to the comb-over to try and hide it. Only losers try the comb-over for forty years. I'm not dying my hair.

Where your eyes don't go

Yesterday a friend and I went to dinner. We got one of our favorite servers. As soon as we sat down I asked her if she was giving out complimentary neck rubs. She said, "Of course."

About halfway through our meal, she walked up behind me and started giving me one. Without turning around, I said, "Alright, now that's service."

My friend looked across the table at me and said, "Except it's not her. It's just some fat chick."

"I don't even care."

The late night girls are anxious and they're coming out to play

Friend: So, the last girl who apparently knows me from high school and sent me a friend request on facebook just tried friending me again after I denied her last one. WTF, people? I have no idea who you are.

Me: That's pretty funny. She totally wants your hog.

Friend: Well, she can't have it.

Me: Don't tell me that, tell her. Send her an email back saying, "YOU CAN'T HAVE MY HOG - STOP ASKING!!!"

She don't eat meat but she sure likes the bone

Last week I had lunch with a girl I haven't seen since we hung out at the European style (top optional) pool at Wynn Resorts.

Somehow, during the course of the meal the topic of conversation turned to cholesterol. I'm pretty sure it was her that brought it up, not me.

Her: I don't eat a lot of meat.

Me: I've really cut back over the last few years.

What I wanted to say: That's not what I heard. Ooooohhhhhh.

And you didn't think I had an internal filter.

Make it somehow all seem worthwhile

A few months ago I submitted a manuscript for publication in a scientific journal. For those of you who don't know how the process works, the manuscript gets an initial look to make sure the formatting requirements are met, and that the subject matter is appropriate for the journal. If both those things seem to be okay, then the editors send the manuscript to other researchers who are familiar with the subject for external review. Those reviewers will go through the manuscript, and produce a list of concerns such as problems they see with the analyses, problems they have with the conclusions that are drawn based on the results, etc. The reviewers then send those comments back to the associate editor who is handling the manuscript, along with a recommendation of whether or not they feel the paper should be published in the journal. The associate editor will also read through the manuscript and provide comments, and based on those and the recommendations of the other reviewers will make a recommendation to the journal editor. All of this usually takes a few months.

Last week I received comments for the paper I submitted, and they were all favorable. However, there are some issues that one of the reviewers felt needed to be addressed, so I've been revising the manuscript to deal with those. Some are more time consuming than others, and that's when I begin to wonder why all the comments can't be like some of those from the associate editor:

"Line 35: Please include references that support this statement.
Lines 311, 323: may be extra spaces at the end of sentences.
Line 408: Period at end of sentence is strange - possibly bold or larger font.
Line 415: large-water not large water"

Those are the easy ones to deal with. That said, I'm almost done revising, and the paper will be accepted once I resubmit it to the journal (which will hopefully be in the next couple days) . The only bad part is that it's merely a side project that should've been published years ago.

Made a phone call and left a message, the story was a laugh from the beginning

A week or two ago I went and saw The Hangover on a Saturday afternoon. Very funny movie. I watched it at an outdoor shopping mall where Girl Who Won't Be My Girlfriend likes to hang out. As I left the theater and walked to my car, I saw her car in the parking garage. I gave her a call to see if she wanted to meet up.

She didn't pick up.

I didn't leave a message because I was just going to go along on my way, but knowing that she likes to hang out and study in a nearby coffee shop, I thought that I'd walk over and say hi real quick*. So I called her again. This time I left a message saying, "Hey, I just saw you parked near me, so I'm going to stop by real quick in case you're there. I'd like to say hi."

I went to the coffee shop.

She wasn't there.

I walked back to my car.

Hers was gone.

I couldn't help but think that she hurried and left because I said I was stopping by. I called her again and left a message telling her that I was sorry I missed her, and to give me a call.

Nothing says "stalker" quite like that sequence of events**.

It made me feel a lot like Mikey***:








*I realize how pathetic this makes me look.

**Even though it was just coincidence***.

***But at least I wasn't wearing a wife beater.

****I swear!

I am ahead, I am advanced

I love that I can wake up at 3 a.m. with an "Aha!!" moment, and rather than get up and scramble for a piece of paper and a pen, I can just grab my cell phone and text it to myself so that I don't forget what it was once I go back to sleep.

Technology is great.

Suck on that, Darwin!

That's right, I'm the egg man

During yesterday's lecture, I started talking about how changes in temperature can cause a protein to change its shape and lose its function.

Then, for an every day example, I gave my students the example of a fried egg. Here's my quote:

"When you heat the egg, the protein changes shape, and the clear part becomes white. When you cool it back down, the egg stays white, so those proteins do not regain their function. They do however, retain their deliciousness."

I repeated that to a friend later in the day. He said it's a wonder that I don't have at least one student off him/herself every lecture.

Hard to look innocent when I've got cookie crumbs all over my face

My mom bakes a lot. When we were kids, and she'd end up with extra frosting, she'd usually make "cookies" by spreading the frosting onto graham crackers. It's delicious. She's always had cookies whenever she's had kids around, and last weekend was no exception. Just before we left, she put a bunch of frosted graham crackers into a ziplock bag for us to have on the drive home.

Mr M ate the most. As he was finishing the last one he asked me about them.

Mr M: Dad? Are these gran-cookies?

Me (thinking he'd said graham): Sure. You could call them that.

Mr M: Are they made out of grandkids?

Spent the night in Utah in a cave up in the hills

I spent the 4th of July at Capitol Reef.






You know you're jealous. Again.

Well, I shuffled through the city on the 4th of July, I had a firecracker ready to blow

I'm visiting my parents for the 4th of July. Earlier today, we went downtown to take a look at an antique car show, and a few of the other festivities at the city park. After a short while, I told my brother that there weren't any hot girls, so I might as well go back home.

Him: What do you have against hometown hotties?

Me: I don't have anything against them. There just aren't any.

Him: Sure there are.

Me: Go ahead. Find me one hot girl who doesn't have a child or a husband in tow.


Approximately five minutes later.

Him: Hmmm. Do they have to be out of high school?

Me: This place is teeming with cops, so I'm going to have to say yes.

Oh my sweet rapture I hear Jesus and the angels singing hallelujah calling me to enter the promised the land

I saw* a Nissan Altima with a vanity plate that read: JEHOVAH.

I thought His return would be a little more triumphant, and that He'd be in something a little more regal.

You know, like a chariot of fire.









*Of course this happens the one time I'm not carrying my phone to take a picture.

Above your eyes your hair hangs

I'm in dire need of a haircut. However, I can't cut it until I decide what I want to do with it. I've been growing it out for a few months, and it seems like a wasted effort if I go back to having it cut short.

That said, I'm at a point where I need to do something because it's starting to look like I'm growing a mullet. And despite what these guys might think, nobody looks good in a mullet.

So last night I asked a girl I know (who works as a hair stylist) if I could get some hair advice from her. She said yes, and asked me to take my hat off so she could have a look.

I did.

She took a quick look and said, "I don't know what you want to do, but you need to cut that shit. Like, tomorrow. At the latest."

I took out a loan on my empty heart babe, I took out a loan on my impatient soul

Man, I hate creditors.

Allow me to explain.

Yesterday I got a call from a collections agency notifying me that I was twelve days past due in making a loan payment. I was positive that I'd sent the payment to them well in advance of its due date, but checked my bank records just to make sure. I had. They'd even cashed the check, so I called them back to find out why I hadn't received proper credit.

Operator: What can I help you with today?

Me: I'm calling to see why I haven't yet received credit for the last payment I sent in.

Operator: I'm showing that we recently received a payment of [half the amount], and the outstanding balance is [half the amount].

Me: That's not correct. I mailed a check for [full amount], and my bank records show that you guys cashed it.

Operator: Oh. I see what happened. So you want us to credit the full amount to the loan? I'll go ahead and do that for you now. And don't worry, I'll make sure this doesn't affect your credit score in any way.

Me: Thank you.

What I wanted to say: Are you fucking kidding me you stupid motherfuckers? Why would I send in a payment and only want you to apply half of it to the balance of the loan? Did you think I wanted you and a co-worker to go ahead and treat yourselves to a nice lunch with the rest? How stupid can you be?

Seriously, don't ever do business with Key Bank.

Please leave the biker

Here's a joke for my dad, since he's recently decided that he won't be purchasing the Harley that he's had his eye on:

There was a chicken and a horse who lived on a farm and were the best of friends. One day they were out in the fields and the horse fell into some mud. As he began to sink he whinnied to the chicken to go for help.

The chicken hurried back to the farmhouse to get the farmer. Unfortunately, the farmer was nowhere to be found. What was the chicken to do? He wasn't strong enough to pull the horse out on his own. He frantically tried to think of a way that he could save his friend when he spotted the farmer's new Harley. Luckily, the keys were in the ignition, so the chicken hopped on, fired it up, and rode back to the mudhole where the horse was now up to his neck.

The chicken tossed a length of rope to the horse, and told him to bite down on it. He then tied the other end to the back end of the motorcycle and then drove forward. He was able to pull the horse out of the mud, thus saving his friend's life. Together they went back to the farmhouse, parked the Harley, and the farmer was none the wiser.

The next spring, with the incident removed from their minds, the chicken and the horse were back in the same area on the farm. They were careless, and this time the chicken fell into the mud. He cried out to the horse, "Quick! Go back to the farmhouse and get the farmer's Harley so you can rescue me like I rescued you."

The horse thought for a minute, and instead just stepped across part of the mudhole. He told the chicken, "Just grab onto that hangy-down thing between my rear legs, and I'll use that to pull you out."

The chicken grabbed on, and the horse walked backward, thus returning the favor that his friend had done for him the previous year.

The moral of the story?

When you're hung like a horse, you don't need a Harley to pick up chicks.


There, Dad. Does that make you feel any better?