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Posts Tagged ‘PSA’

Yowch.

All right people, a PSA from Dr. Lemur…

Discography, Discogram:  (DIS-coh-gram) n.  A procedure whereby a huge large-diameter needle is inserted clear through the neck of a strapped-down person in order to inflate discs between vertebrae on the opposite side of the neck in an attempt to reproduce or make worse the patient’s symptoms, performed without sedative so as to ensure accurate results.  Extremely effective at confirming bad discs when it works, meaning that the pain levels can be very intense.

Interviewer:  So, Dr. Lemur, you say you have heard anecdotal evidence suggesting that the procedure is no picnic, and just yesterday experienced it for yourself.

Dr. Lemur:  It should be noted that the following day is no picnic, either.

Interviewer:  Can you shed any light on the nature of the sensation when they inflate the damaged discs?

Dr. Lemur:  Certainly.  Close your eyes, take a deep breath… now visualize slamming your penis in an electrified sliding glass door frame.  Mentally transport your screaming genitals and place them in the appropriate location along your spine and you’re reasonably close to the reality.

Interviewer:  But.. but… I don’t have male genitalia…

Dr. Lemur:  I don’t have breasts but evidence suggests that visualizing a particularly nasty titty-twist followed by a mammography procedure that uses a searing-hot electrified x-ray apparatus would be sufficient.  As before, mentally transport your screaming boob to the appropriate location along your spine.

Dr. Lemur:  Do you have any other questions?  You have turned a rather pale shade of green…

Interviewer:  No.  No, that’s all for now.  Thank you, Dr. Lemur.

Perhaps that was a bit of embellishment.  Today is pretty uncomfortable all the same.

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XKCD never fails to make me laugh, however.

Proof of Zermelo's well-ordering theorem given the Axiom of Choice: 1: Take S to be any set. 2: When I reach step three, if S hasn't managed to find a well-ordering relation for itself, I'll feed it into this wood chipper. 3: Hey, look, S is well-ordered.

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Update:  As Aggie Sith noted in comment #1, this next segment has been found to be a steaming load of hoaxy bullsh*t.

Hell may not have fury like that of a woman scorned, but don’t be so quick to discount the guys, either.

Cheated lover tats back.

I wonder if anyone has picked up on the wry humor of it all, that they’ve merely proven that they were made for each other.

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Who knew that sucking on silicone was bad? It’s supposed to be inert – you know for moving parts, hydraulics, fun-bags, etc.

Certainly this poor snake was unaware of the health risks.

Men, let this sad moment in herpetology be a sobering reminder to you!  Read the ingredients list first then decide whether to latch onto something.

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A little humor to lighten up the mood after that sobering PSA.

Two Arabs boarded a flight out of London. One took a window seat and the other sat next to him in the middle seat. Just before take-off, a U.S. Marine sat down in the aisle seat. After take-off, the Marine kicked off his shoes, wiggled his toes and was settling in when the Arab in the window seat said, “I need to get up and get a Coke.”
“Don’t get up,” said the Marine. “I’m in the aisle seat. I’ll get it for you.”

As soon as he left, one of the Arabs picked up the Marine’s right shoe and spat in it.

When the Marine returned with a Coke, the other Arab said, “That looks good. I’d really like one, too.” Again, the Marine obligingly went to fetch it. While he was gone, the other Arab picked up the Marine’s left shoe and spat in it. When the Marine returned, they all sat back and enjoyed the flight. As the plane was landing, the Marine slipped his feet into his shoes and knew immediately what had happened.

“Why does it have to be this way?” he asked. “How long must this go on? This fighting between our nations? This hatred? This animosity? This spitting in shoes and pissing in Cokes?”

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Oh yes, if you see this graphic floating around… IGNORE IT.  It’s a total crock.  US NRC wouldn’t be measuring in Rems and they certainly wouldn’t publish sh*t like this.  I strongly suggest that if the nuclear “stuff” were THAT dangerous, no nuclear reactors would ever have been built nor nuclear weapons because a bomb would have been un-necessary.  That sort of thing leans towards cobalt bombs and I just don’t know enough to say any more.

Plus this popped up and was listed as having come from some official source in Australia.  Yeah, sure.

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Random Crap Day.

Warning:

  1. This isn’t new.  I don’t claim it to be.
  2. As  such, you may have seen it.
  3. It’s sick and disgusting.
  4. The Office Assassin (administrative-slash-secretary nazi) pointed me to this.
  5. As such, it’s not my fault I loved it.

Llamas with Hats…

Update:  Office Assassin, who is terribly concerned that I have recently ordered chloroform (legitimate science-ey stuff) just sent me this… who should be more worried?

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Because I am behind on everything, may I point you in the direction of LC Aggie Sith’s PSA for November 2nd post?

It should not be funny, but Cruel Wife is sewing my ass back on at this moment, because I laughed it clean off.

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While I can understand her parental instincts the less noble part of me took a traipse over and looked at the woman (term used very loosely) who sent her kid to school with weapons to fend off bullies.

Ohmygod.  Geez, lady, ever heard of Extreme Makeovers?

Maybe it’s just the mug shot or the bad attitude.  Or the bad hair day.

(Yes, I know that’s not worthy of me to say it.)

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Also old news by now… Scientists have found “Liberal Gene”.

“It is the crucial interaction of two factors — the genetic predisposition and the environmental condition of having many friends in adolescence — that is associated with being more liberal,” according to the study.
Uh.
Why must scientists always draw conclusions that are non-sequitur?
Could it be that the person who has a pathological need for “lots of friends” in school might also be the person who, now an adult, lacking the easy social settings, viz., a captive audience made up of a small community of adolescents, feels a gnawing urge to buy their esteem using the only source of money large enough to attract throngs of admirers… other people’s money?
Seriously.  The people who feel the need to be loved the most and in the most public way also happen to be liberal.  Only they can’t do it based on their merits so they have to do it by association and by coercion/misappropriation of other’s sweat equity.
And that is as nice as I can put that.

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