A mass of incandescent gas, a giant nuclear furnace

I gave an exam this week. I usually make them a combination of multiple choice and short answer questions. The problem with that is that I then have to grade the short answer questions. It's not bad when I'm grading the good students' exams. Or the really bad students who just leave everything blank (it's quite easy to write a big X and a zero on the page). But the students who haven't studied AND write a lot? Sometimes they make me want to jam ice picks into my temple.

For example, one of the short answer questions asked them to list three adaptations that birds have for flight. Simple enough right? After all, pretty much any four year old who has ever seen a bird could get two of the three: feathers and wings. Sadly, that would be one or two more than some of my students got. One answer said this: wings are involved, and the fight or flight response allowed them to evolve flight. Okay, fine, you get one out of three, but the fight or flight response? Really? Especially when the example I used is what might happen to you physiologically if you almost stepped on a rattlesnake? Because that's happened to me plenty of times, and I've never taken to the air.

(In contrast, some of the incorrect answers make me laugh. For example, I also asked them what a circadian rhythm was. One student put that it had something to do with funky beats. Awesome. Still no points, but awesome.)

Luckily, as the instructor, I have the power to make the TAs help me grade. So I did. Usually bribery with pizza does the trick, but this time we were grading a little later, and one of the TAs had a migraine, so I excused her from the additional pain of reading. I told the other TA that I'd buy dinner after we finished. She saved me about three hours worth of time, so it was well worth it from my end.

We went to dinner, had a very good meal, but the story that I really want to tell occurred right after. We had agreed to meet some other friends for pub trivia that night, so we both figured it'd be good to visit the restrooms (that were clean) before going to the pub.

While I was in the bathroom, I heard a couple of little kids talking to each other from separate stalls. Brothers I assume. One of them called the other one to help him with something (buttoning his pants, I think - neither of them could've been older than five) as I was walking to the sink to wash my hands. Thinking the coast was clear, I felt the need to pass some gas while I was washing my hands. So I did. Unfortunately for one of the little kids, he'd chosen that exact time to walk directly behind me (unbeknownst to me until after I farted directly on his head).

I saw him in the mirror as his reflection emerged from its hiding place directly behind mine not two seconds after the deadly gas blasted him. The look on his face just said, "Why would you do that to me? WHY?"

Sorry kid.

But it could've been worse. I could've sharted.

You say, I like what you say, I like what you say

I'm taking a page out of the Book of Troll for today's post. I need to poll you guys in order to see what the general consensus is on three very important questions.

1) What is the proper etiquette when you're sitting in a public restroom stall, taking a dump, and someone else walks in?
a) It makes no difference. You go ahead and finish, wipe, and leave the stall to wash your hands.
b) You pause, and wait for them to leave the restroom before dropping the rest of the kids off at the pool.
c) You make as much noise as possible, grunting and farting loudly, in an attempt to scare them off.
d) You finish, and wipe, but wait until they leave before exiting the stall.
e) It depends on how far along you are in the dumpage when they walk in.


2) Is it possible to be Jewish and a Quaker?
a) Yes
b) No
c) It depends


3) Let's say that hypothetically you'd let your laundry pile up long enough that you had no more clean underwear. Do you
a) put off going about your day until you've done some laundry?
b) put on a pair of dirty underwear and go about your day?
c) go commando long enough to run to the store and buy some more underwear?
d) go commando for the entire day, but make sure to do laundry when you get home?
e) go commando for the rest of your life, because who wears underwear anyway?


Your input is greatly appreciated.

Love Bites

I drink water when I hang out with my friends. That stuff makes it's way through one's system pretty quickly. Tonight was no exception, so I found myself needing to go to the restroom several times. On one of my trips, the jukebox started playing Def Leppard.

I found myself standing at the urinal singing, "I don't want to touch you too much baby, but making love to you might drive me crazy."

Luckily the bathroom was empty.

Even so, I've never felt so gay in my entire life.

No phone no phone I just want to be alone today

One of my rules in life is that I don't answer my cell phone if it rings while I'm in the bathroom. Frankly, I don't see how any call* is important enough that I have to pick up if I'm taking a leak (or a dump). I figure that if someone's calling me, they'll be close to their phone in another two minutes when I'm finished up and I can call back then.

Yesterday a friend called while I was taking a leak. I called him back when I left the bathroom.

Him: Hello?

Me: Sorry, I couldn't pick up because I had my wiener in my hand.

Him: . . .







*There are two exceptions to this rule: I pick up if Dr. Psycho or Silent Kid call. I do it then just so I can tell them and get a reaction. They should feel special.

What's the name of the song? Explosivo!

Today I was in the bathroom, standing at the urinal, when a man with a reputation for 'fecal explosions' walked in. By that I mean that he has been rumored to spray the back walls of various bathrooms. Enough so that nobody wants to share a room with him when they're traveling together. Some of the people who've been forced to share a room with him are the ones I've heard the stories from.

As I stood there and finished draining my bladder, there was a part of me that wanted to stick around for a few more minutes, just to find out if the stories were true. Then the old adage "curiosity killed the cat" came to mind and I fled the premises.

I'm certain that I made the right decision.

I hate my generation, I offer no apologies

I was standing at the urinal, taking care of business, when another guy came in. He obeyed the unwritten rule of the men's room, and took the furthest urinal away from mine, but after standing there for a few seconds began to speak. "It's really raining here."

I thought to myself, "Great. Why is it that people feel the need to carry on cell phone conversations in a bathroom?"

A few seconds later he added, "The roads are really wet too. Everything's wet."

Slightly annoyed, I finished peeing and washed my hands.

I vaguely heard him say something else, but I wasn't paying enough attention to hear what it was. It wasn't until I turned to open and walk out the door that I realized he was talking to me.

I still didn't say anything. I just walked out.

If you don't know me, and see me peeing in a public restroom, go ahead and save the idle chit chat at the urinal for someone you know.