Nobrainer’s Think Tank

In the past I have complained about the bus service on this campus. In previous complaints I have wondered how I could wait 20 minutes for a bus that should arrive every 10.

For the most part, I have given up on riding the bus. It only takes 13-15 minutes to walk from the parking garage to my building. If you sum the time to wait for the bus and the ride itself, I’m saving time by getting some exercise. It’s weird, I know.

In the few times I do ride, however, I have noticed that I might not exist. The buses have bells. If you want out at the next stop, you had better ring the bell. Today was a shining example of the system failing.

Before lunch I realized I needed a few small items from Lowe’s. Since the weather was snowy and crappy, I opted for the bus. It was quite slow. However I made it to my car, to Lowe’s, back to the parking garage, and to the bus back to my office. Between the stop before mine and mine, I ring the bell. This apparently meant nothing to the driver who managed to hit every other stop on the route. This is at least the 4th occurrence of this.

UVA, your shitty bus system is another strike against you.

UC still sucks.

• What happens when you pour liquid nitrogen on snow? Well today I just might find out.
• Apparently the guys at Jiffy Lube are better at changing windshied wiper blades than they are at installing them so that they don’t fall off.
• I am scheduled to meet with a prospective grad student tomorrow. Said prospect is currently at Clemson. I was chosen because I can best offer a comparison. True, yes. Foolish, yes.
• I’ve downloaded Red Hat Fedora on my new machine. The plan is/was to install it in a partition on my old computer. However, after formatting, my 700mb CDs can only fit 623mb, which is about 13mb too few to fit the installation files. Do I need better burning software?
• I had a dream a couple nights ago that Eric Cartman was my neighbor and trying to destroy my life. Have I really become Butters?

Why are there no during photos?

A little extra:

Mitch Hedberg Road Sentences

I hate cats. This is nothing new. Today’s anti-cat headline:

Pet cat shot by police in bizarre ordeal

An otherwise “loving family pet” was shot dead by police after the tabby cat went berserk and terrorized a city family late last week, The Intelligencer has learned.

And I didn’t even like them before they started going berserk.

After acting totally insane for about a half hour, the police officer who arrived on scene was told by the cat’s owner to put the cat down if possible.

As the constable entered the home, the cat ran up the stairs and stared the officer down.

Speaking to The Intelligencer on condition of anonymity, the constable said he had “ … never seen an animal act like that before — it was like it was possessed or something, hissing and growling.”

The officer shot the cat square in the chest with his Beretta .40-calibre handgun.

“Even after he shot it, that cat was so hopped up — we’re talking about a little, eight-pound cat — Mickey ran down the hall into the bathroom and jumped into the tub,” the husband recollected. “He didn’t die for at least five minutes … he was all nerves and adrenaline … he wasn’t in his right mind.”

Well that family certainly got more than they bargained for, and I have one more reason to hate house cats.

The story brings to mind an account I read from a Viet Nam era marine sniper. The sniper targeted an individual who was apparently doped to the gills. This was a time when “one shot - one kill” never had a chance. One bullet tore through and shattered the guy’s leg… but he kept running. If memory serves, the 2nd bullet tore through his chest. That slowed him down, for a second. Then a third shot directly to the head finally downed him.

I guess what I’m trying to say is, watch for the follow up article when the cat’s owners are arrested for possessing massive amounts illegal narcotics.

- I do not feel safe around UVA. Apparently robberies and shootings at the local downtown are on the rise. There’s also a serial rapist, who to my knowledge, has not yet been caught. The wanted posters list the man (but maybe they’re not sure) as between 5′6 and 6′0 tall and weighing between 180 and 220 lbs. And they think he has skin, and it may or may not some tint of some color to it.
- In a similar vein, I have yet to see the parking police anywhere on campus. I know they give tickets. I’ve seen them. I’ve gotten one. But I absolutely have not seen them or their modes of transportation.
- When a freak thunderstorm hits, everyone rides the bus. In the rain, some buses leak, allowing rain water to drip on the occupants of the bus.
- All email programs should have the following helpful addition. Whenever an email includes words such as “attached” or “attachment”, the program should alert you if you are about to send such an email without an attachment.

Sadly, nothing great happened last night, but I reckon I’ll go through the motions anyway. There are some highlights.

I arrived in DC about 4:30 and met some friends at a restaurant. This was quite possibly the worst restaurant experience of my life. Most servers know that when someone downs a beer between their visits to the table, they should certainly offer the guest another one. Well that didn’t happen. And in this place’s attempt to not be a generic Mexican restaurant made their creative food pretty bland and boring. The lesson, stick to Monterrey.

After that, we picked up some beer went to my friend Jorge’s place. I of course also had a bottle of Jack with me (always be prepared, right?). While downing my first beer, I realize that I may not have all the ingredients for a Jack and Coke. “Jorge, do you have any ice?” Sadly, no. No ice. So after 3 or 4 beers I drank 2 mixtures of diet coke, water, and Jack. I shared some of the Jack. After his drink and my two, the 375 was 3/4 empty (or 1/4 full for you JD optimists).

Key notes:
- I coined a new phrase, “dollar-alcohol potential”. Yes, how drunk will I get for a given amount of money.
- As I learned the hard way several months ago, when you go out drinking in a strange town, make sure you keep a record of where your friends live.

We got to the bar around 8:30. I had two-and-a-half hours of all I could drink fun ahead of me. I know I drank a lot. I remember when someone pointed out that I was on my 4th drink. It seems that was still early in the evening.

After that everything is pretty fuzzy. I definitely don’t remember leaving the bar. Maybe I’m still there.

So there are approximately 10 hours for which I cannot account. Although, I think I may have hit something, because two of my knuckles hurt.