But I LIKE Brussels Sprouts

This is the Goddamned cutest vegetable-themed flash game I've ever seen. You must go there now, but be warned - there's a song.

I'll be taking to my bed, where I can be old and alone.. um.. alone.

UPDATE: Ok, so I didn't exactly go to bed, but I still have 471 unread posts on my bloglines! Why is being well-informed so time consuming!?!

I Am Part Human, Part Hamster

I eschewed humanity over the Thanksgiving break, and settled into my apartment to really Get Stuff Done. Given that I have a bent set of priorities (and the fact that it hasn't really gotten that cold) I haven't gotten my heat turned on yet, preferring to spend the money on turkey sandwiches from Subway and exfoliants. Well, we had a cold snap this weekend, so I spent most of my time wrapped in a blanket, tethered to the high speed internet. (The hot spell this summer blew out my wireless router, and I haven't replaced it yet. How hot? Try 130 degrees in my apartment one afternoon.)

So this is my living room floor, Sunday afternoon, around 4 o'clock:



Add a little shredded paper towel, and I'd be ready for a habitrail.

Mwahahahah!

How evil are you?

Via Scientist, Interrupted

Can't get enough LaBlonde?

Yeah, right.

Anyway, I just wanted to let all my readers here at Maison Du Blonde know that I'll be the official "Blogger of Science" over at The Bear Republic Action Group, a great community of California political bloggers. I'll also be cross-posting at the Drinking Liberally Oakland blog, just as soon as I get the password. So if you'd like to read about something that doesn't involve my exploits with sleazy europeans or my crippling battle with weltschmerz , head on over.

In the meantime, in honor of Delurking Week, leave a comment below and say hi!

Happy Thanksgiving, Amigos

Spaniard-in-Residence: "I felt bad the other day because I didn't know all the states in the US. Then I realized that most Americans probably don't know all the provinces in Spain."

LaBlonde: "Spain has provinces?"

Attention! Embarrassing Announcement Forthcoming!

I was watching VH1 at the gym tonight, and I realized that I really like the music of the Pussycat Dolls.


Here's a link to their video, but it's flagged for 'mature content' - you'll need to a You Tube login to watch it.


The worst part is that I can never, ever make fun of Dr. Brazen for listening to Hillary Duff ever again.

What About The Red-Headed Guy From 'Mythbusters'?

Salon.com has compiled a list of the sexiest living men. Stephen Colbert! Alton Brown! Sascha Baron Cohen! Maybe not Richard Dawkins! I don't know who wrote this article, but we've got pretty much the same taste in men. It does seem strange, though, that Salon will sprain their shoulder patting themselves on the back for spotlighting guys "without ripped abs" when I suspect that there will never be a "girls of the NIH" issue. Silly - nobody thinks intelligence and snarky humor is sexy in a woman. Not unless it's accompanied by humongous gazongas, that is.

For all my homies without cable, here's a bit of the Colbert Report that had me laughing... from all the sexy.

The World Is Bleak and Joyless

Strangely enough, it appears to have always been so.

Via BoingBoing, which I should probably just stop reading.

UPDATE: I suspect that it's posts like this that caused my youngest brother to refer to this blog as a "gigantic half-empty glass of pessimism with a twist of curmudgeon". It's an honest assessment, and a real shame, because I'd like to be a starry-eyed optimist. World, stop sucking!

UPDATED UPDATE: In fact, this reminds me of an episode of of Mystery Science Theater...

Mike J. Nelson: "And there's nothing in between? It's either grain alcohol in back alleys, or a happy world of rodents in footie pajamas?"

Tom Servo: Yes.

Crow: Why is that so hard to accept?

You Can Check Out Any Time You Like, But You Can Never Leave

One of my undergraduate intern boys walked into the lab today carrying his laptop, which was blaring 'Hotel California'. My many years of of working in labs has caused me to know better, so I ignored him, and let one of the peons do the inquisitorial heavy lifting. (Part of being an effective manager is delegation.)

"What are you doing?"

"It's playing my theme song. I wanted to enter to my theme song."

"Well, you did. You gonna turn it off now?"

"It's a SEVEN-MINUTE theme song. You got a theme song?"

"No."

"Well, when you do, then you can ask questions about mine."



They're 19 and 20. Boys are so CUTE at that age.

Sunday Night Incoherence

Life has driven me to bourbon sours. I was dating two guys when I left New York. Since I left the city, one of them bagged a skank with leopard-print cowboy boots, and the other just caught an STD from whoring around.

Men disgust me - I'm never, ever dating again. In fact, I don't think I'll ever touch a man without rubber gloves. I'm just going to sit alone in my apartment and watch old episodes of Mystery Science Theater 3000.

Bourbon Sour:

Three shots of limeade
One (or two) shots of bourbon

Mix with ice in a cocktail shaker. Goes well with complete revulsion.

You Know What I Hate?

Our lab is full of old, broken equipment. Rather than, oh, getting rid of it, people have just taped signs to them that say - you guessed it - 'broken'.

Didn't Jeff Foxworthy make a joke about how you know you're a redneck if you've got a working TV sitting on top of a broken TV? I believe the same thing applies to electrophoresis power supplies...

Yee haw, y'all.

You Want It When??

Oh God, I'm letting my blog slide again. I really meant to write about my experiences as a poll worker, too. At this point, there are two things I can say definitively:

1. It's a really positive experience and I would recommend that everybody do it at least once.

2. There really is such a thing as 'old man smell'.

Upon my (really, really) hung over return on Wednesday, I found out that the boss needed a poster for an NIH meeting early next week. Our lab manager is out sick, I got tagged for the job. However, the campus copy shop (our department doesn't have a plotter) is closed tomorrow and requires 3 days turnaround on large-format jobs. Boss needs it next Tuesday night - that meant that I had to design a 3' by 4' poster AND write all the text IN ONE DAY.

And THEN the copy shop lost the file.(But they found it)

And THEN I had to fax them a work order. (But their real fax number was different that the one on their website)

And THEN the work order required an 'authorized signature' with no hint as to what kind of authorization. (Turns out it was our Financial Officer.)

...who had the week off.

So I told the office ladies that I was just going to Kinkos and paying for it myself.

An account number and signature appeared.

I need to call the copy shop and confirm that they received the fax, but to be honest, I'm scared to do it.

Did I mention that I only got 4 hours of sleep last night (Oakland Drinking Liberally) and, because of new 'Weekly Safely Goals' that I PUT INTO EFFECT, we're no longer allowed to drink coffee in the lab. Obviously, I am a moron. A moron who meets her safety goals, but nonetheless...

THIS IS MERELY A TEST

It appears that my blog has been down for a couple of days. WTF, blogger?

John Kerry Called Rush Limbaugh "Doughy"

AWESOME. Now we're gettin' somewhere.*

Read the full story at Kos.

Got another 12-hour work day ahead of me, and then to the grocery store, 'cause the cupboard is seriously bare. Also, no clean laundry. But I got SNPs. Sweet Jesus, so I have SNPs.

But busy or not, on November 7th, I will be working the polls with all my buddies from the County Home for the Elderly. Voting irregularities? Not while me and my geriatric crew are on the case!






*If Kerry were to call him, say, "Oxy Contin-flavored", my cup of awesomeness would runneth over.