-Cheeze-Its™ brand snack crackers decay in a non-exponential fashion, with a half-life of roughly 18 months from time of initial unsealing.

-When smashing one’s head forcefully into an open cabinet door to the extent that stars and birds become visible, said stars and birds revolve around the victim’s head in acounter-clockwise orbit, rather than a clockwise pattern as commonly depicted in both classic and contemporary cartoons¹.

Looky here – an awesome postcard from the smart and funny @mayafish!

• a postcard of Acadia National Park from Rachel,
• a full-size frameable spread of tfQ Magazine’s first feature article, starring yours truly,
• a box of dark chocolate cupcakes from [redacted].

My imaginary friends are sofa king awesome.

reimer:

What in the sam hell is this?

I did not sign up for this. In fact, I’m still recovering from that Tweeteorite I had to dodge last week.

Something tells me @textism is not thrilled right now.

Favrd : Pulitzer :: favstar/Tweetiorite : America’s Got Talent

I should not be surprised by it, and yet I am.

Clearly my peer group is easily pleased with a little Nickelback-bashing.

And here I was under the impression that you all liked my smart jokes.

Then after that, I want to be Jason Permenter for a week.

Then, I will be happy.

It’s getting fairly large, so I think he needs a name. I considered Patrick, but that didn’t really fit his demeanor. Edgar is a better choice, because it incorporates his quirky and generally non-threatening side while still leaving the vague impression that at any moment he may transmogrify into a malignant melanoma stuffed full of pigmenty death.

Then again, Edgar is a bit of an antiquated name, and doesn’t coincide well with the fact that he lives inside of graphic tees most of the time rather than finely tailored shirtings.

Also, this conversation would be much less awkward if my dermatologist and psychiatrist were the same person.

“Wow,” I hear you say, “that is indeed a metric assload of pixels.” So it would be no surprise, statistically speaking, if at least one or two of those pixels were broken. Dead, as it were. Le petit pixel mort, as they say in Spain.

But no. I’ve been lucky to have two awesome Apple cinema displays that are pixel-perfect. “A rarity!” you cry out. And you would be right.

Until this morning.

The first thing I noticed when I started working was an irritant in my left eye, like a tiny ache. I turned my head to the left, and it was gone. Looking forward again, it was back. It took me a few minutes to figure out that the irritant wasn’t in my eye, but was in fact on the far side of my left monitor. A stuck pixel.

A stuck pixel is, in my opinion, an order of magnitude worse than a dead one. A dead pixel emits no light, so if you have a dark desktop area (like I do), it simply blends into the background, and you don’t notice it unless you’re looking at a window directly over it.

But this pixel on my left side, it is stuck. On green. Not a light green, but a glowing neon green. It has been irritating my peripheral vision all morning long. It stares at me, like an evil green Lovecraftian eye. Watching me. Tormenting me. Judging me. When I look directly at it, it looks away¹, feigning innocence. But I know it’s there, casting its green gaze upon me all through the day.

I hope it goes away on its own. Perhaps one day it will tire of watching me, and return to the inky blackness from whence it came. I can only hope.