or, "How an Absurd Late-Night Text Exchange with a Sexist Idiot managed to Ctrl + C the Infinite Loop of my Grieving Process."
(This one's not about stats.)
Wednesday, March 27, 2013
Tuesday, March 26, 2013
Bird Election!
Everybody knows that Benjamin Franklin wanted the turkey appointed national bird of the United States, but the more majestic bald eagle won out. Of course, if you've ever seen a bald eagle up close, you might wonder about the whole "majesty" thing.
Thankfully, the bald eagle is no longer endangered-- but now there are so many of them, people in western states with large bald eagle populations consider them pests. In Alaska, you're less likely to find a parking lot full of seagulls picking at discarded french fries, and more likely to find a dozen bald eagles hanging out in the cart corral at Wal-Mart sharing a couple goose carcasses. They have a weird, high-pitched squeaky call, less a "CAW!" than a "KEE-Ee-ee-eEE-ee-eee...," like a nervous teenager stuck in perpetual puberty. Their unique brow-shape gives them the appearance of ferocity and strength, unless you catch them at a weird angle, in which case they look to be deeply concerned about the colonoscopy results you just read to them. They mate by crashing into one another mid-flight and fucking frantically as they plummet to the ground. On closer inspection, the bald eagle seems less like the proud symbol of American democracy, and more like the really handsome guy at the party who seems cool until he takes a sip of his drink and accidentally spills it down his shirt.
Thankfully, the bald eagle is no longer endangered-- but now there are so many of them, people in western states with large bald eagle populations consider them pests. In Alaska, you're less likely to find a parking lot full of seagulls picking at discarded french fries, and more likely to find a dozen bald eagles hanging out in the cart corral at Wal-Mart sharing a couple goose carcasses. They have a weird, high-pitched squeaky call, less a "CAW!" than a "KEE-Ee-ee-eEE-ee-eee...," like a nervous teenager stuck in perpetual puberty. Their unique brow-shape gives them the appearance of ferocity and strength, unless you catch them at a weird angle, in which case they look to be deeply concerned about the colonoscopy results you just read to them. They mate by crashing into one another mid-flight and fucking frantically as they plummet to the ground. On closer inspection, the bald eagle seems less like the proud symbol of American democracy, and more like the really handsome guy at the party who seems cool until he takes a sip of his drink and accidentally spills it down his shirt.
 |
| "I totally meant to do that." |
So let's elect a new national bird.
Tuesday, March 19, 2013
Battle of the Sexes: Who Tips Better?
Wow, it's been over a month since I posted anything-- sorry, loyal readers (all three of you)! I've been tied up looking for information on the cost of the equipment needed to counterfeit high-quality US currency, the suspected percentage of currently circulating US currency that's likely counterfeit, and the likelihood of getting caught passing counterfeit bills. Surprisingly, the US Department of the Treasury website is less than forthcoming with that information. Also, I think I'm on a couple government watch lists now. Sorry, Abhi. I'll keep working on answering your query about the expected value of a counterfeit dollar.
Lucky for me, my favorite coffee shop has provided an alternate subject to ponder: who tips better, men or women?
Lucky for me, my favorite coffee shop has provided an alternate subject to ponder: who tips better, men or women?
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