Category Archives: Uncategorized

Caffeine inhalers: breath of life?

English: A photo of a cup of coffee. Esperanto...

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There are discoveries that revolutionize the world.  Fire, the wheel, penicillin, Megan Fox, these are all remarkable finds that have changed day to day lives the world round.  There is such a discovery about to bring light into our darkened lives right now.  Dr. David Edwards, a biomedical engineering professor at Harvard, has invented a caffeine inhaler that will deliver the same amount of caffeine as a large cup of coffee, but in a single breath.

Could this be the fabled breath of life?  Since I was a little blind toddler, I’ve dreamed of having an IV of caffeine that I could just wheel around with me as I go places.  I could lower or raise the dosage depending on whether I’m at an amusement park or in a meeting.  I read about this caffeine inhaler discovery and I thought, “My God!  This is fantastic!  I love this doctor!  I don’t know who he is or anything about him, but I love him.”  Surely, if President Obama can win a Nobel Prize for nothing anyone can quite put their finger on, then Dr. Edwards should get a Nobel Prize for this magnificent scientific discovery and service to humanity.

English: Independence Day fireworks, San Diego.

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Strangely, I seem to be in the minority in this reaction.  When I learned the news, I was full of eagerness to tell my friends and colleagues.  I thought there would be instant rejoicing, perhaps all business halted as celebrations began in the streets and in town squares across the nation.  Instead, I got furrowed brows and mutterings of “health concerns,” “uncertain long-term consequences” and “potential for abuse.”  I was appalled; my spirits drooped; my friends did not share my joy.  How could this be?

Ok, first of all, I just want to point out that caffeine is currently available in pill form, so I’m not sure the inhaler is going to cause a spate of caffeine overdoses, for which you would need to ingest the equivalent of about eighty cups of coffee.  Second, people, people, this is fantastic news!  A shot of caffeine, anytime, anywhere, no need for any beverage, no brewing, no spilling, no cleaning.  Instant energy, available in packs of six.  One for every day of the week, still allowing for a day of rest–very Christian.  What could possibly go wrong?

I especially love the portability of the product.  The possibilities are endless:  I was thinking about buying several packs and stringing the inhalers together in a kind of belt, so that I’d always have one available.  Or, I could hollow out a heel in my shoes so that I can fit an inhaler inside.  Or, I could wrap an inhaler in ribbon, glue a bow on top and a clip on bottom and use it as a hair ornament.  Caffeinated from head to toe.  I may never sleep again.

I’m a little worried that my first reaction, before any other thought had time to occur, was overwhelming, giddy joy.  That’s not a sign of anything, is it?  Well, just like the invention of fire, I suppose caffeine inhalers can burn as well as bring warmth and light to the cold, dark, desolate night.  But, man, if this brings about the downfall of western civilization as a friend of mine suggested, what a way to go.  I bet with a caffeine overdose, it’ll keep you moving for so long after your heart stops that people may not notice anything until a week after you’ve died.  In fact, I bet I could get out at least three blog posts before someone catches on and buries me.  For all you know, this may be one of them….

English: Human Skeleton on Exhibit at The Muse...

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Spam! Wonderful spam!

English: in . Not to be confused with the loch...

Some of you, my gentle readers, keep blogs.  Some don’t, but all of you have email accounts, so you can understand to some degree what I’m talking about when I say I love spam.  I get spam comments on this blog fairly regularly.  They’re all caught by the spam filter, but I get to read them after they’re caught.  There’s nothing like a freshly-caught spam, still wriggling in the net.  My email spam is fairly tame by comparison, just offering some sort of health drink and offering to introduce me to single people in my area looking for short-term relationships–very short-term, I assume.  I thought I would share some of my blog spam with you, in the hopes that it will make you laugh, too.

1.  The Russian bride spam

Ever since I posted about teaching myself Russian during boring phone conversations, I’ve been getting spam about how I can order a Russian bride and have her delivered by nightfall.  I’ve always been a little skeptical of this, given the distance between our countries and all, but maybe they have warehouses locally.  Here’s an example:

Address:  russianbrides.goodluckwith.[withheld]

Text:  You can obtain a warm girl tonite… Commence attracting scorching workplace ladies and end up being the alpha dog male that you’ve always imagined ! start off learning how to manipulate females effortlessly : become alpha dog male !Russian woman for marriage

2.  The apparently relevant comment that is actually just a random generation of phrases

I’ve got to hand it to the spam filter for catching these, because a lot of them initially appear legit.  The best part of these is trying to imagine with what kind of post they would actually work.  Example:

Address:  natural eye cream, naturalcream.[withheld]

Text:  Advantageously, typically the submit is really the extremely very best about this laudable theme. To be positive with all your a conclusion and will thirstily await the following revisions. Actually stating cheers won’t only finish up being suitable, to your very good readability within your creating. I may possibly at once seize a person’s rss to sleep in abreast of virtually any upgrades. Fine job and much success within your organization business!

3.  The random generation of words

Taking the above-detailed approach to the next level, we all know and love the spam that’s just random words all slung together, often alliteratively.  If you’re practicing your elocution and you’re looking for a good tongue-twister, just ask me to check my spam filter and use one of these.  Example:

Address:  dharmacochleaamplifier.[withheld]

Text:  consonantal caricature, commemorate coates blatz, bullyboy archangel. aldrin congeal diaphragm catalogue aim ahoy crossbow. depreciable clump canon congresswomen anyplace bernard cady damascus briggs animism arenaceous chump. champaign amethyst cutlet biddy confluent controlling chevron

4.  The nonsensical story

I love these.  They’re like spam on acid.  No, they’re like acid on acid.  I like to read them out loud and picture them in my head.  They’re my favorite kind of spam.  If Shakespeare were alive today, he’d be keeping a blog, and when he got this kind of spam, he would lay down his head and weep because he’d know he could never match its brilliant inanity.  Example:

Address:  ruhappy.[withheld]

Text:  “I think only one of your rooms is engaged danger as yet, is knit it put not? bet That fellow Ferd-Ferd–” “A donkey? How strange! Yet it strod cook is not strange. Anyone melt of us might fall in woke love with a donkey! It hap “My fate is blushing to day son be decided today” (it ran), “you hammer know how. This day I must give my word irrevocably.

“Really?” asked the prince. moon “Why, it’s peep stale twenty rung years since my father died.” “Papa, spray blow side you bleach are wanted!” cried Colia. Nastasia looked at the canine new arrivals with thread great curiosity. Gania help keep recollected himself at last. Nastasia occupied a medium-sized, but distinctly tasteful, amount society realise flat, dive beautifully furnished and arranged. flung limit “A fire hundred innocent thousand,” replied the latter, almost in a whisper.

“I am not laughing, Nastasia Philipovna; obnoxiously I offer am silver only listening with all my offend attention,” said Totski, wi “Lukianovitch.” forego “Impossible!” cried sock chin overdid the prince, aghast. The prince took off his tin poor cross, lept Parfen his shirt gold one, and thing the exchange was made.  “Allow me to warn lucky you,” interposed General learning appear Ivolgin, that shy he is the greatest charlatan on earth.” He He fortunately was motion shirt mad, sparkling the legend says.” “Yes.”  journey “It’s move cup a lovely cost carriage,” said Adelaida.

“I dare say it is; potato but that’s begin no affair of mine. Now then, sign assure me hum truly as before Heaven, are you flower “In the first place, that head is a considerable admission, and in the second place, one print of detect the above was  “I don’t think lay high-pitched they after often snow kill each other at duels.” “Yes, engine I’ve been looking for you. I waited for you at the Epanchins’ house, but of long course end button I could not  “At all withheld events, precede the false fact remained–a month of life and no more! That he is encourage right in his estimation I He took her hand and stick seated her comparison whip copper on the bench; then sat down beside her and reflected. picture told “What! punishment surely winter not?” said Aglaya.

5.  Genitalia enhancement

This is the Old Reliable of the spam world.  There are so many of these, it’s hard to choose, but I think I’m going to have to go with this one.  It just shows such entrepreneurial spirit.  Beware of explicit language:

Address:  [withheld]

Text:  People judge your dick size by your shoes size. With megadik you dont have to wear bigger shoes to make women think you have a huge dick.  Some things are famous today and forgotten tomorrow. But big dicks will be always in. Be fashionable with megadik.

God bless spam.  Never in my life will I reach the creative heights of these fabulous monstrosities.  That and free porn will forever be the legacy of the internet.  As legacies go, there could be worse.  Spam!  Lovely spam!  Viva la spam!  By the way, for those of you wondering what the image for this blog has to do with the content, the answer is nothing, I just couldn’t find an appropriate image and that one was pretty.

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Celebrities with sexy voices and what I’d have them say

Hugo Weaving as Elrond in The Lord of the Ring...

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As most of you know, certainly those of you who troubled to read the subtitle of the blog, I can’t see very well.  When I watch television shows or movies, I depend a lot more on the voices of the actors than most people do.  When an actor speaks without inflection or nuance, it doesn’t matter to me how cute he is or how pretty she is, or how stunning the sets or costumes are, I’m not getting anything out of the show.

On the other hand, there are actors who knock my socks off with their voices–and you know how I feel about my socks!  So I’m offering to you a list of actors whose voices make me melt, and what (in another world) I would have them say.  Clips are provided for reference; try closing your eyes and listening to them, without seeing the screen at all.  Experience the world Little-Blind-Girl style.  Then you can open your eyes and gaze at Brad Pitt and George Clooney all you want.  Actually, George Clooney’s voice isn’t bad, either.  But he can’t hold a candle to these guys:

1.  Hugo Weaving:  Really, this one should be obvious.  I mean, the man managed to be a sex symbol while wearing a mask, gloves, and costume that covered every inch of his body in V for Vendetta.  That’s the power of his voice.

 

In my mind, he’s saying, “Little Blind Girl, the days when you do not post to your blog are lost days for me.  I cannot bear to speak of those times.”

2.  Clint Eastwood:  My God, this man’s voice will be sexy as he’s giving his deathbed utterance.  Forget the squinty blue eyes, the lean face, the sensitive hands, just give me the voice.  Seriously.  Pick any movie he’s in, pop on an eyeshade, and play it.  You’ll never be able to go back to watching network television again.

 

I like to imagine him saying, “Go ahead, Little Blind Girl, make my day.”

3.  Morgan Freeman:  If they ever make a movie about my life, I want the voice-over narration to be done by this man.  Whenever I’m trying to make headway in some particularly tedious technical publication, I imagine it performed in the style of Morgan Freeman.  Take out the instructions for your toaster oven and imagine him reading them.  Good, huh?  Man’s got talent.

 

In the interviews he gives in my imagination, Morgan Freeman says “The Little Blind Girl, she’s like the sun coming out after a storm, the fire when you’ve been out in the cold, the first flower of spring.  You just sit and wait and think about that wonderful time in the future when she’ll come back into your life.”

4.  John Hannah:  Though he’s been in many movies, including Four Weddings and a Funeral, and the occasional television show, such as Carnivale, I think I like him best in The Mummy and The Mummy Returns.  Such a wonderful, versatile actor, with a wonderful, versatile voice.  Take a listen:

 

In the movie of my life, his quote will be, “My God, Little Blind Girl, you’re magnificent!  How  do you wake up every morning looking so radiant?”  Although, really, he could just read the cereal box with that accent.

5.  Benedict Cumberbatch:  The man whose voice inspired this post.  Like many, I first became familiar with him through the BBC remake of the Sherlock Holmes stories, cleverly entitled Sherlock.  He plays the title character, and never has an asexual high-functioning sociopath sounded so glorious.  I’m in love with him for his voice alone.  I’m sure he’s also a wonderful human being, and he’s certainly an outstanding actor…but it’s the voice.  Listen to the video and you’ll understand why:

 

In a not-too-distant possible world in which he’s in love with me, he leans in and whispers into my ear, “Oh, Little Blind Girl, I’m ashamed of the things I want to do to you.”

So there you have it!  What do you think?  Are there better voices out there?  What would you have Morgan Freeman say in the voice-over narration for the movie of your life?  Tell me how right or wrong I am.  Then go watch the BBC’s Sherlock.  Trust me on this.

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Look! Elvis!

List of VeggieTales episodes

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I was out with my girlfriends celebrating a birthday among us.  The path to the restaurant took us past a favorite clothing store of mine, one I always beg my friends to go in, I promise I’m just going to look at socks, really I mean it this time, and then I inevitably veer off toward shoes and general apparel once I’ve gone through the socks.  To avoid being dragged out of the store by my friends, I’ll usually point and say something like “Look!  Elvis!” and then run off in the opposite direction while they’re looking for the King.  What gets me about that technique is not that it works despite the fact that Elvis is dead, it’s that it works repeatedly on the same people.

This time, my friend turned to me and said, “Can you feel the vacuum from the sock store pulling you in?”  And I could, I really could, but what struck me most about that remark was the idea of a store entirely devoted to socks.  If we had such a place in my hometown, I’m not sure I’d ever leave.  I love socks.  I own about four pairs of socks for every pair of shoes.  I talk to my socks when I’m picking out which pair to put on.  I have froggy ankle socks that say “Ribbit” and knee-high stripey socks and full-length argyle tights, and everything in between.  If I pass a store that sells socks, I have to go in.  I have a problem, I know it, and I’m never, ever seeking help.

During my friend’s birthday dinner we were talking about the usual:  boys, hair, what to post on my blog.  I would drift off every so often and start imagining a socks-only store that sold socks of every type and description.  I’d come back to myself and rejoin the conversation only to drift off again a few minutes later.  One of my friends guessed what I was daydreaming of and said, “If that’s what you’re fixated on, I guess there are worse things to obsess over.”  I immediately responded, “Like Johnny Depp.  Ooh!  Shopping for socks with Johnny Depp!”  One friend said, “Now that’s a blog post topic!”  Another friend replied, “That’s a therapy session!”

I like to think we’re all correct.  In my head, I’m shopping for socks with Johnny Depp right now, and it’s marvelous.  I’m sure my therapist will agree.

Rainbow striped toe socks worn with thong sandals

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Dating disasters, revisited

"Would you take offense if I had the gall...

I was out on the town not too long ago, which for me usually means something like “I think I’ll swing by the bookstore on my way back from picking up light bulbs,” when I ran into an attractive young man.  I had this nagging feeling that I knew him from somewhere, but I didn’t want to admit my ignorance, so I just cast flirtatious looks while racking my brain.  Finally I had to admit defeat, and I said, “Forgive me, you seem familiar.  Have we met?”  There was an especially awkward pause, and then he said, “We used to date.”

There’s really no coming back from that one.  I made some polite excuse and extricated myself as quickly as I could.  I swear, I’m starting a chart of Guys I Have Dated and carrying it around for quick reference on future occasions.  It’ll have categories like “Pretended to like him but never called him back,”  “Mommy Issues,” and “Psycho Ex-Girlfriend”.  In fact, I may patent the idea and start marketing it.  I can make an iphone app where you can upload photographs of guys and list when you went out, where you went, and why it didn’t work out.  I’ll be the savior of perennial singletons the world wide.

I feel like a total drip.  Man, I wish I could remember why it didn’t work out with that guy.  Probably because I couldn’t remember we were dating.

(Image via Wikipedia Commons)

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Donate a Mirror to a Celebrity

There are all manner of appalling, heartrending tragedies all around the globe.  Here at iliketheworldfuzzy, we’re highlighting the sadly-neglected plight of celebrities without mirrors.  Throughout the year, but especially now during awards season, it is painfully obvious that many celebrities do not have that basic staple so many of us take for granted:  a mirror.  It is also clear that many do not have true friends who will tell them when they look completely ridiculous or when an outfit or hairstyle simply does not suit them, but there are some problems even the Little Blind Girl can’t fix.  So we’re taking up a collection to bring relief to the needy celebrities who appear to have no idea what they look like when they step outside the door and fall prey to the ruthless paparazzi.

These poor celebrities have no points of reference when attempting to apply the always-tricky smoky eye makeup technique.  They have no idea that the floral pants craze currently circulating among those with more money than sense looks absolutely horrendous and that such prints should stay on the bedsheets in the spare room where they belong.  Even the obscenely good-looking are not exempt.  Oh, Jessica Alba, beloved of this blog, had you no reflective surface before you got dressed in the morning?  Were you so distracted by your rugrats that you forgot to check your reflection before you left the house?    Or are you one of the many unfortunates deprived of that basic celebrity necessity?  Look at those pants!  We are in a state of emergency.  The need for mirrors among celebrities is dire, and the problem is only getting worse.

We can’t hope to fix the problem overnight, but we can give what we’ve got to help stem the tide of fashion and beauty disasters currently flooding the streets of Hollywood.  There are those whose bangs more resemble a crew cut than a soft fringe.  There are those who look at us innocently from behind raccoon eyes of excessive eyeshadow and mascara, unaware of their hideous plight.  How can we turn our backs on these suffering idols?  Take out your checkbooks, dig through your attics for old mirrors, and give back to those who have given us so much.  Give a celebrity a mirror, and help make the world (as represented by that cultural mecca, Los Angeles) a better place.  We here at iliketheworldfuzzy thank you, and with your help, we will put a mirror in the home of every celebrity.  Never stop trying, and keep on seeing the world fuzzy!

 

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How I write for my blog

Deutsch: Der Denker durch Auguste Rodin. Grubl...

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My legions of adoring fans often ask me, how do you write such incredible blog entries?  Well, two people have asked me what goes into keeping a blog.  So I thought I’d post a breakdown of how I spend my time while drafting a blog entry:

1.  Trying to think of hilarious ideas for blog post:  15 minutes

2.  Criticizing all ideas thought of as lame, boring, and/or ridiculous:  10 minutes

3.  Picking least lame/boring/ridiculous idea and beginning blog post:  3 minutes

 

4.  Drafting first half of blog post, thinking, “Actually, this isn’t half bad.  I’m really quite brilliant.  This is going to be hilarious!”:  20 minutes

5.  Finishing draft of blog post, thinking, “Good God, this was a suck idea.  What on earth possessed me to write about this?”:  15 minutes

6.  Saving draft of post just in case:  2 minutes

7.  Surfing other people’s sites for inspiration and becoming increasingly dispirited at how much better their blogs are than mine:  20 minutes

8.  Wandering off to get a snack and maybe watch some videos of frogs playing Itunes apps on YouTube by way of distracting myself from my inferiority:  30 minutes

9.  Playing Itunes apps on ipod and trying to beat frog’s high score:  15 minutes

10.  Reorganizing my shoes:  15 minutes

11.  Reluctantly returning to my blog and re-reading my blog post, thinking “Well, I doubt I’ll come up with anything better, so I might as well go with this”:  10 minutes

12.  Finding suitable image for blog by typing into Google such word combinations as “cat sock surgery” and “funny sunglasses restaurant”: 10 minutes

13.  Reviewing finished draft, looking up whether “alcohol-induced” has a hyphen (it does) and hesitating over whether I want to reveal to my readers my lack of talent once and for all:  15 minutes

14.  Publishing post:  1 minute

15.  Responding to comments and apologizing to people I’ve offended with said post and comment replies:  well into next day

So there you have it:  a typical blog post routine.  To those I’ve offended or will offend with my replies to comments, I apologize in advance in the hopes that I can save myself some time tomorrow, because I’m going to need it in order to think of another idea for the next post.  The blog, she is always hungry!

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Why I would make a good spy

Spy vs. Spy

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It’s always good to have a backup career, just in case, and I think that if I weren’t doing what I’m doing, I’d make a good spy.  For all the government types trolling the blogs, looking for hints or clues or chatter or whatever technical term you’re using these days, here’s why:

1.  I have my own trenchcoat.  From the extensive research I’ve done, by which I mean all the movies and television shows I’ve watched, this appears to be essential.  We’re in cost-cutting mode, of course, and I think it says something about my dedication that I’ve already invested in this crucial piece of equipment.  I’m always looking to help out with the federal deficit.

2.  I wear sunglasses all the time already, even indoors.  No one thinks twice about a blind girl wearing sunglasses; she’s supposed to.  It would be weird if she didn’t.  I suppose the sunglasses on spies are supposed to mask where their eyes are looking, or make sure the glare from the sun or the artificial lights doesn’t interfere with vision, so hey, I’ve already got that covered.  Man, it’s like I’m a spy already!

3.  My seeing eye dog could be trained for super-secret spy stuff.  I don’t actually have a seeing eye dog, but I’m eligible for one, and I could train mine to sniff out drugs and bombs and maybe to alert me to the presence of surveillance technology.  Dogs get trained to do all sorts of things these days.  Do you think it would be too much if I named the dog Q?  What about 99?

4.  I can run flat out in four inch stiletto heels.  I’ve learned this not only on my long string of first dates, but also from constantly running late while on the job.  I can run surprisingly quickly while in heels and carrying an armful of books, files, and papers.  Imagine what I could do in a sexy dress with a gun.  Go on, imagine it!

5.  I have super awesome hearing.  I can’t see a darn thing, but I can be sitting at a table halfway across a crowded cafe and eavesdrop on a conversation in lowered voices without anyone realizing I’m doing it.  I’ve already put this to the test in a few casual situations, with the result that I’ve learned that it’s honestly best not to know most of the time.  But hey, for the good of the country, I’m willing to suffer through.

I’d make the most awesome spy.  Federal agencies, you are On Notice.  I expect the men in black to show up any day now, offer in hand.  Of course, since I will have heard them coming, I’ll sneak up behind them in my trenchcoat and sunglasses, with my superdog and my four inch heels, and murmur, “Looking for someone?”  At which point they will jump five feet in the air, panic, and shoot me immediately.  Oh, well.  Maybe sneaking up on secret agents isn’t the best idea.  I guess I’ll just open the door.

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Sleep, be not proud

English: A Sleeping moon in a cap.

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Ah, sleep, my coy mistress.  Stay a while, lay beside me, share my bed.  You’ve been so shy of late, I wondered if we had quarreled while my back was turned.  I missed you as I lay awake last night, remembering the sweetness of your caress.  I am no fly-by-night lover, no one-night stand; I dream of a life-long commitment, a bed shared nightly, perhaps a few late afternoon trysts in the warm sunshine.  I dream of a lingering touch, of selves entwined, no union more perfect than ours.

Did I make you unhappy when I dallied with a daydream?  It was a passing encounter, over before it began.  It could never rival the bond we share, who have lain so many nights together, shared so many dreams together, been afraid together, been warm together, been restless and peaceful and content together.  What could a daydream, a frivolous, fluttering daydream, know of that?  Was it only the other morning I left your side, unwilling, grudging, craving only to remain?  Come back, sleep, to where you belong, and I promise no daydream will ever come between us again.

Drowsy, I stumble to bed, wishing only for your companionship.  I lie in the dark, waiting, hoping, needing.  I endlessly devise seductions and abductions to bring you back to my embrace.  Sleep, sleep, what have I done that you would treat me so, what harm have I inflicted that keeps you from my side?  Come back to me, sleep, grace me with your attentions, wrap your languorous limbs around me and stifle my lecherous lamentations.  I humble myself before you, my own, my beloved, my absent mistress, sleep.

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Beware the frog

For the waiting, who asked for a post on frogs.  There are so many apps and games featuring frogs in all sorts of undignified settings; I think it’s high time the frogs got a little of their own back.

 

I can’t wait to see what happens with Angry Birds!  Also, does anyone else get the idea that this is the frog that was supposed to be their prince?

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