Historians have long known that the very worst possible way to die would be to have your nads slowly squished in a vise during shop class. If you're not familiar with the authoritative texts on the subject, let me just say that you die instantly from the pain (except for the manliest of men who live only long enough to succumb to vise-related infections).
This morning, I realized that there may be a worse way yet to die. The willy-worst, some might say. I'm not talking about a heart attack...
What about a shart attack?
Imagine sharting yourself to death. Oh, the agony, the spasms, the stench...
Yeti, Vegas odds say you may be the first primate to suffer this fate. Beware.
Some of you may have noticed a disturbing lack of blog posts recently. I can attribute this to two things: 1) I've been busy finding a job, getting engaged, graduating, and buying a house (among other things); and 2) the Yeti sold you all out. Did he attempt to pick up any of the slack? That's a big HELL NO. Kill you, kill you dead Yeti.
Well, I'm happy to say that the house buying went swimmingly. The Sciencette and I are now the proud owners of a 3-story townhouse in Lawrenceville, NJ. Was it an easy path? No, no it wasn't.
Imagine trying to buy something worth 225,000 times more than you are from 300 miles away. Then, imagine trying to do that exactly as the global economy, with emphasis on the American housing market, implodes. If you're still with me, now consider having a lawyer that communicates exclusively by fax, a real estate agent that communicates exclusively by phone, and a mortgage lender that communicates exclusively by email...and you have to try to get them to talk to one another.
You can see where this is going. It's given me the germit for 3 straight months.
Anyway, the Sciencette and I packed up some stuff and headed for NJ last Thursday. We rented one of those U-Haul trailers. Have you ever parallel parked a Ford Escape with a 5'x8' trailer hanging off of the back in Pittsburgh. Me neither. In fact, I had never trailered anything. The Sciencette basically calmed me down through the whole shenanigan, and I owe her an apology for some choice words that I used (one of which was "taint"...I know, she was surprised too).
Trailer stress and the slowest drive across PA ever aside, we met up with the Sciencette's parents in NJ Thursday night. We split a hotel room, and the whole thing got me thinking of my interview at Princeton. Someone told me that when they go to hotel rooms, they check under the mattress for porn that people leave. Apparently, 'found porn' is pretty common. Well, I decided to check under my mattress...BAM, found a magnum! There wasn't any porn, but finding a condom that would fit a zebra has to count for something right?
Anyway, the next day was the big day. We signed our name a bunch of times, we paid a lot of money for a lot of things, and the Sciencette and I officially became adults. My hair immediately turned white.
As you might imagine, there's a lot of stuff we want to do to our new domicile. We want to get some new outlet covers, have the drains snaked, get some new blinds, and of course we wanted to paint.
The Sciencette thought ahead and brought old clothes to paint in. I figured I'd outwit the entire world and just paint naked. Yeah...it might not have been the best decision. I'm not going to lie; I ended up with paint on my genitals.
Regardless, we have a guest room now. You all have a standing invite. Bring beer.
Hey everyone, I just wanted to let you know that I've been hired on as a freelance editor at American Journal Experts. Basically, what that means is that I edit scientific articles for AJE (a firm that performs English editing for researchers around the globe) in my spare time. If you need your work polished for publication, come check us out.