I float between Connect and Boost. Both excellent.

Haven’t had it in years, but my grandfather made them all the time and called it Gas House egg.

Well, it was a fun childhood. Plenty of other stories.

My mother was a professional hot air balloon pilot, and I was her ground crew chief. We had a bunch of regular crew members, and I was shocked by one guy who confessed that he had fallen in love with our hot air balloon. He asked permission to spend a day in our garage, and explicitly told us he wanted to unpack the envelope (the balloon part) and fuck it. He also said he had been having dreams of fucking the suede and padding that lined the top of the rattan gondola.

He was never called to crew again.

Loved Ferguson. His books are worth a read, too.

I’ll give you two, one living, one passed.

Randy Feltface is great with crowd work.

Mitch Hedberg was a genius with delivery, and even though I’ve seen most of his recorded work multiple times, I still laugh out loud.

You lose the ability to differentiate between a fart and a poo.

At random times whenever you are traveling in any vehicle, you simultaneously feel a sneeze coming on, and yet have to pee a little bit too. However, you can neither sneeze nor pee until you are out of the vehicle.

Inconvenient on a bus/train or as a passenger, deadly if you’re driving. Bicycles are right out, I suppose.

I had an old flip phone that came with a demo of Uno. I could play a single hand, then reset the demo and play again and again. There was only a nag screen when you were exiting/restarting the demo, and not a single other ad.

Passed hours with that little game.

I miss mobile gaming when it was like that.

The fact that they have a record.

Look for a pattern, not a single instance. And yet companies and people hold bad decisions of the past against most folks.

We had very few rules in high school until a new principal came in during my senior year. We didn’t even have attendance, as the school believed that it was the students’ responsibility to succeed and graduate (it was a laboratory school, basically part of a college, so it was weird. It was K-12, and I graduated in a class of 25.).

This new principal comes in and lays down new rule after new rule, most were either ignored or caused enough uproar from tenured faculty and parents that he caved. For some reason, one day, he walks through the hallway and cleans out all the lockers, as well as picking up the unattended backpacks left on the floor. He takes ALL schoolbooks, notebooks, supplies, and electronics. Amazingly, he left some lockers alone, deaming them organized enough to satisfy him. They all belonged to his daughter and her friend group.

Then he takes all this stuff into his office, and proceeds to charge students $50 each to get school issued books back. He keeps all other supplies and electronics, announcing that he will have a sale at the end of the year to raise money for school athletics (which, being an extension of the college, had shitloads of cash to play with).

The University Police department showed up and were ready to arrest him for theft. It took nearly a week to redistribute everything, and he ended up in front of a local judge who was the father of a student.

Then he abruptly ended music, theatre, art, and home econ. classes by locking the rooms and firing the staff by posting signs that these were a waste and unnecessary strain on the school budget. All of the teachers were tenured through, and the classes and programs paid for by a combination of parent donations and a hefty amount of money from the university, which is well known for its communications, theatre, teaching college, and school of music (these are the programs that sell the university nationwide).

At the end of the year, during commencement, the University president made a speech that basically dressed down the principal publically, and then he announced that the principal was not taking part in the ceremony, and should go home as he would not be returning next term. The principal was in his robes, sitting on the stage, and waiting to hand out diplomas while this happened. The entire gathering of parents and students cheered.

And that’s how a principal who thought he was going to be adored for “cleaning up” a school for the gifted like he was trying to run a drug riddled, inner city, school in the middle of Chicago, instead of school basically run by the students in a mid-sized University town surrounded by corn fields in Indiana.