So I just opened a beer in the office not with a bottle opener, but a key and the side of my desk. And it only took me 5 minutes, and a cut on my finger to achieve this greatness. My mother would be proud, don’t you think?
So here’s a good one from Slate that stacks up Nuestro Amorado Presidente’s views on stem-cell research vs. his views on the death penatly:
Playin’ fast and loose with the Utilitarianism…
The article does a nice job of laying out what I’ve always been confused by: one of them necessarily seems to invalidate and negate the other, but maybe I ain’t enough of a fundamentalist to see how they coexist.
In other fun news from Room 17, our microwave began malfunctioning in a very freaky and dangerous way yesterday morning.
There seems to be a catastrophic short in one of the safety interlocks, because now when you open the door, the damn thing turns on!
Not just the motorized spinning plate in the middle, no sir. The freakin’ magnetron fires up and starts crankin’ out radiation. Both Madhu and I were caught by surprise when we retrieved our lunches and felt the hair on our arms stand up before we realized what was going on and yanked our hands back out of there.
As much as I’d like to add “fixin’ possessed-ass microwaves” to my ever-growing list of essential skills earned in grad school, I have no intention of getting tossed across the room when I accidentally short a charged magnetron with something convenient, like, say, the pliers I’m using or my hand. So, I think we’ll be asking Alex to buy us a new bare-bones-costing-no-more-than-$50 microwave.
Yeah, there’s something funky-smelling growing somewhere in our office fridge down in Room 017. I won’t have time to deal with it until this weekend, and I’ll be sure to send fair warning to the officemates, but that nasty thing is getting cleaned out, and soon.
The sandwiches I brought for lunch will no doubt taste like the smell in there, courtesy of my sensitive nose and the wonderfully odor-absorbent properties of plastic containers. Grrrr…….
