The headline: Death gotta play in Xinjiang, Guangdong 85-80 win boxing fans riot Charles Citation.

A slightly more coherent version: an American basketball player playing in the Chinese Basketball Association gets a teeny-tiny head-butt-tap (no, seriously, check the video) from opponent Du Feng and decides that if you're going to bring the physical, do it proper. At which point he punches him into next week. (Du Feng is mildly concussed, which isn't bad considering how bad the video looks.)

The surprising thing, though? The guy who threw the punch? Not Kevin Garnett.
Burning Kansan hit with pepper spray. That's typically more Cajun style.

Speaking of, What went wrong at the Las Vegas Sun and Greenspun Media Interactive: '"The Sun ... took a big gamble on new technology and a bold strategy brought to them by a self-described Internet nerd from Kansas" named Rob Curley.' No, the two stories are not as closely related as some on my f-list would like.
Today can't end soon enough.

As per usual, please don't mistake any of these for original content; if so moved, you should be able to track down the origins of at least half with a click or two. Most come courtesy social aggregator sites, link-dumps, various dark and salacious undersides of the various Internets. One pic from People of Walmart comes courtesy [ profile] beagle1971; I knew Steve was on his way back, but I'm glad he's getting some shopping in first. Some history, rote macros, two pages from the classic The Caterer, a familiar face or two. Enjoy. Or don't. 54 pics below.... )
sigma7: Sims (ranch tooth)
( Aug. 11th, 2009 09:55 am)
A growing body of research shows that people with red hair need larger doses of anesthesia and often are resistant to local pain blockers like Novocaine. As a result, redheads tend to be particularly nervous about dental procedures and are twice as likely to avoid going to the dentist as people with other hair colors, according to new research published in The Journal of the American Dental Association.

Funny thing is I'm certainly resistant to pain medication, especially Novocaine, though my hair's pretty brown. My facial hair certainly has a reddish tinge, though certainly not to the extent of the classic redhead. [ profile] daethkow? [ profile] redmonster? Any other fire-tressed souls care to weigh in?
sigma7: Sims (scene missing)
( Jul. 29th, 2009 08:09 am)
A particularly powerful 90-second advertisement dramatizing the effect of motor neurone disease has been kept off the air in Britain. Not because of the violent way the actress in the beginning is slammed against the wall or her body twisted or her clothes torn off, but because of one lingering shot in the ad's closing of the atrophied limbs of Sarah Ezekiel's real body.

Since you won't be allowed to see it on the airwaves (is that an antiquated expression now?), see it online.
sigma7: Sims (scene missing)
( Apr. 22nd, 2009 10:04 pm)
Yes, I have finally seen Twilight. However, I saw it with the RiffTrax commentary track, so I think I've seen it in its purest form. Possibly the best $4 I've spent in a long, long time. Finally a reason to revisit Cloverfield. I just need to get better at mashing together the DVDs....
Because it bears repeating: bring me the skull of Norv Turner.

Sadly, this is the worst possible outcome of the season -- good enough to keep Turner around, bad enough to be unacceptable. Grrgh. Still, good luck Steelers and all the birdie-teams.
sigma7: Sims (flag on the play)
( Sep. 18th, 2008 01:04 am)
"I'm getting hundreds of e-mails -- hate mail -- but I'm responding to it all. People deserve a response. You can rest assured that nothing anyone can say can make me feel worse than I already feel about my mistake on the fumble play. You have no idea ... Affecting the outcome of a game is a devastating feeling. Officials strive for perfection -- I failed miserably. Although it does no good to say it, I am very, very sorry."

Sigh. It weighs upon me to type this, but Ed Hochuli, you are forgiven. It'd be a lot easier to maintain your crystal-clear certainty, to attempt to insulate yourself from criticism. But you did the right thing, here, and I believe what you say. I can't speak for Charger Nation as a whole, but being a part of a fanbase that eventually forgave Bill freakin' Buckner, I like to think anything's possible.

Now if only I'd realized the Houston game was postponed, I might've subbed in two players who actually played last week. The Prettybirds still would've lost, but we wouldn't have two lawn chairs standing out on the field.

In an attempt at digital catharsis, I loaded up Madden '08 (thanks, EA, for cutting the PC out this year; I feel a spite-torrent coming on) and created the Shortbus Football League -- the same default rosters, but with every stat decremented by 20 points. My first thought would be that it'd feel like high school football, but no, that's not it. When the most intelligent quarterback in the league suddenly has an awareness rating of 79 and most much, much lower, it's like a drunken Pro Bowl game. Punts go maybe twenty yards. Passes have a circular error probability about the size of a mad gazebo. Rex Grossman is still Rex Grossman, but even more so. I imagine the Gatorade cooler being filled with Thorazine.

Working on a GDBM. I still think we've jumped the shark, but hey, never let that stop me before.
Today's Woot is a 4GB Sansa MP3 player. I got one the last time around and it's been rugged and reliable (even though I've dropped it onto the pavement -- twice -- and left some nasty marks in it). My only problem with it is that it's a refurb, and it drew blood.

Yes, those two points are related.

The back of the unit came with the letters "REFURB" attached in either a solid thin plastic or metal, I'm not sure which. I didn't pay much attention to 'em. Turns out while I'm carrying the unit in my jeans pocket while going everywhere, the letters rubbed off. One of them -- I think it was an R -- attached itself to my multitool and waited for the moment to strike.

When I needed the multitool again -- as it turns out, for assembling another Woot -- I reached in and tried to grab the multitool, but somehow managed to embed the letter half-way into my thumb. No, no hyperbole -- literally, only half the letter was sticking out of my thumb. I honestly don't remember what I did with it. It's probably somewhere in the carpet, waiting to be discovered by my foot.

...But other than that, it works great. (And came in quite handy while cowering in the basement.)
Coughing almost gone. Pain abating somewhat. Definite improvement. Still not bliss, but I'm workin' on that.

Today, a small, light offering. The worst thing below the cut is an image of Jocelyn Wildenstein. And I'm sorry. 27 pics below.... )
The meds make life much, much more tolerable. Less coughing, much less aching. Just a period of profound nausea this morning, and that's still a hell of an upgrade. I think my long national nightmare might just be over and I'll have to find something else to whine about shortly. Tonight a bite-size picspam to celebrate. We may have seen some of these before. Blame the fever. (Also, Amy Winehouse is not really dead. Yet.) 24 pics below.... )
Still sick. Still coughing. Not enjoying. But apparently sports are there to remind me that at least my jugular carotid artery's intact, unlike NHL player Richard Zednik, who took a skate to the neck tonight -- shades of Malarchuk indeed. Zednik's had surgery and is stable tonight, though.

(For the brave, I link to the YouTube, but only because the quality is such that you can't really see the blood.)
Fever over, I think. I never can tell. I have a shaky relationship with the digital thermometer. I'm not sure I've ever gotten an accurate reading from one. But I feel more coherent. Interestingly, when I'm sick, and I'm trying to sleep, instead of my thoughts randomizing (which I can recognize happening, now, and it's a comforting realization, because it means I'm almost asleep), apparently my brain makes formulas. Nonsensical algebraic formulas. Which it begins to autonomously factor and solve. And they were all about the presidential primary races. This is not sleep, this is work, and actually the entire process left me more exhausted than before. And convinced that it's Hillary vs. McCain in November and like you needed my demented feverish subconscious to tell you that at this stage in the game. We've got entire channels devoted specifically to more erudite and well-dressed demented feverish superconsciousnesses who all arrived at that train station a week ago.

Had some bread and noodles last night, first time in a few days. I can hear the little men in my stomach already deeply confused. ("Dude. Wait. This...what is this? Guys? Food? Is that us? I mean, are we sure this isn't for, like, the kidneys or something? Do we even do this? Really? Are you sure? I thought we were, like, the immune system or something. What? Bones? Seriously? Narrow bones? Oh. Marrow. Right. Whatever. But anyway, food? Really? Uhm, okay, if you say so. Do we have, like, a manual for this? 'Cause I'm just kinda playing by ear, here. I got some bread now, and Carl, you know Carl, in the esophagus says there's going to be some noodles heading our way in about fifteen, so if we don't have a plan, we really need to come up with one real quick-like.") Still taking Tamiflu, even though its list of "adverse effects" make the flu seem somewhat relaxing. I do advise taking possible hallucinogenics and watching Pokémon, though. Sweet Jesus I have no idea whats going on OMG DID THAT PENGIN JUST TALK AND WADDLE OMG OMG MY HANDS THEYRE LARGER THAN MY MIND AIEEE.

All in all, I'd rather be at the dentist.
Fever: 102°. Meds: antibiotic and flu-pill. Nothing for cough. Guess I'll have to Robitussin it. Started coughing this morning while asleep and my calf cramped up. Pain went from about a 0 to a 9 in no time flat. Can't get back to sleep after that.

Thanks for your good thoughts, all. I'm going to drink some OJ and crawl under the covers for a bit.
sigma7: Sims (sad little sick jig)
( Jan. 30th, 2008 04:49 pm)
Am currently sick with Death. Can't cough or it feels like the top o'mah head coming off. Worked from home today, fixing more issues than I usually do while well. Not working tomorrow. At all. No e-mail, no nothing. I'm going to get some mileage out of my sick day. Do not want to shower work anymore with my germs. Well, actually, I could handle the guilt, but...but that's bad, I understand. Or have been told.

Finished Y: The Last Man today. Not what I expected. I think I'm pleasantly surprised. (I'm still a little disgruntled by the turns of the last storyline, but that's me for you. Disgruntled.)

Waiting for the Robitussin to kick in. It had a moon and stars on it. That's an unwritten promise of peace I want to cash in. Hrnm. HArd to tyiep nao. Iatjhink whatt my hands are a;like bdig floppy hams noow and maybeloishouldlie donw
sigma7: Sims (bunnyyay)
( Jan. 16th, 2008 11:30 am)
Just started snowing; three to five inches by the end of the day. Uhm, yay? It's hard for me not to like snow, but on the day before classes start? Gah.

Dentist appointment moved up to Friday. Am going in to deal with my problematic #13, the tooth who keeps making like Steve McQueen (and yet whenever I think of it I keep visualizing Olivia Wilde). If it was anything like last time, there will be burning involved. Glee.

Going into the weekend's AFC championship tilt, there is simply no way the Chargers can be seen as competitive with the Pats. New England is ending the best season an NFL team has ever seen and has more weapons than a Dick-Cheney-themed birthday party. The Bolts have injuries to their starting quarterback (sprained knee), running back (hyperextended knee), tight end (dislocated toe), kicker (bruised fibula) and coach (brain worms), though I expect them all to play.... There's no rational reason this team should be playing the game, much less in contention. Which makes it all the more intriguing.... The NFC is simpler. Brett Favre leads the Pack against the Giants, quarterbacked somehow by Eli Manning. My feelings on Eli have not changed; imagine him burning in effigy in my imagination and you're on the right track. Yes, I'm rooting for the Pack, and moreover, I don't see how they don't collapse the pocket on Eli on a regular and consistent basis, I don't see how Ryan Grant doesn't run roughshod over the Giants and into the secondary. I see the Pack heading to the Superb Owl yet again.

Okay, less blather, more kung pao shrimp. Om nom nom.
So, is there a way I can summarize the Christmas party in a stolen-macro format and somehow summarize my ability to go uninjured for a significant length of time? Answer lurks below.... )
Finished Call of Duty 4. Not bad. I wish its multiplayer was as versatile as UT3, but its singleplayer was perfectly cinematic and engrossing (and occasionally distressing). While I didn't like the original COD, this iteration I found quite pleasant. Portal is still my game of the year, though.

New first: trapped in traffic behind a truck with Texas plates whose driver was -- and I'm so not kidding -- flossing. Okay, maybe that's permissable on I-70, or somewhere else where traffic is not an option, but not on a high grade between traffic lights. Fool.

Am raising heartburn and tummy troubles to fantastic new levels. If only I didn't have a completely dysfunctional relationship with my GP's staff. Self-medicating to normal, and again I'm reminded that I should've GMed a fantasy campaign based around the names of prescription medication; Zantac the Barbarian would r00l. (Today was the departmental potluck. I had to bail.)

But classes are over now. Just one week of finals and then the long happy winter. Glee.

Now back to COD4. Cluster-bomb-grenades make me very happy.
It's like the different part of my world are suddenly making sense....

Chronic pain has its own devastating side effects, even in the absence of medication. Sufferers of migraine headaches sometimes report a phenomenon that amounts to color-blindness. Jeff of the Omegaword blog explains that chronic pain has a peculiar way of removing color from the world. He poetically describes his experience of a reality in which all color has been erased by bursts of red:

“Red has never been my favorite color. Bolts of hot pain sear the world, leaving me colorblind but for the shards that stay behind — jagged red reminders of pain past, and pain yet to come. Through the window, beyond the mute interplay of light and shadow on a white kitchen wall, bare branches against a pale sky remind me that it’s all in my head. What color are light waves, anyway?”
So I saw that San Francisco 49ers quarterback Alex Smith is out of today's game with "a third-degree shoulder separation." Which got me to wondering about the varying levels of severity of a shoulder separation. It turns out there are six different types, from Type I to Type VI, in increasing levels of damage and resultant treatment.

In other words, as I was hoping, there are six degrees of shoulder separation.


sigma7: Sims (Default)


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