RX: "What the...?! Oh, this is... this is strange. Oh, Tam, you should turn around and see this picture..."
Me: (Presciently) "Nope. I know the kind of stuff that goes on at Burning Man."
RX: "It's some naked man..."
Me: "LalalalalalalalalalaIcan'thearyou!"
RX: "...wearing blue nail polish..."
Me: (sidling towards door) "Nope. Not turning around."
RX: "...and a belt."
Me: (now from hallway) "Oh, like that makes it okay."
RX: "Breda should see this. It'll put her off blue nail polish forever. He's a redhead."
Me: "Misery loves company! You just want this stuck in my head, too!"
RX: "And apparently Jewish. Or Protestant."
Me: "That's it. This is going on the internet."
RX: "I'll use it for my desktop wallpaper!"
Saturday, September 03, 2011
Overheard in the Office:
So Bobbi is looking at pictures on some Burning Man-related site:
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27 comments:
All he needs now is a hippo foreskin . . .
;-)
It started with an innocent (-ish) link. See the Money Belt?
Don't click on it. You'll end up looking at... Ahem. "I hollered, 'Don't look, Ethel,' but it was too late." Aw, Ethel, why'd you even bother to buy a ticket?
> "And apparently Jewish."
Many of us in the One True Church also - ahem - swing that way.
Now everyone is going to want to send Roberta some sample "wallpaper" ...
And to think they actually name-dropped Burning Man on Phineas & Ferb ...
Ah, man, I clicked the link. Poor kid, living with such a small disability.
Skin cancer there from excessive sunning, well...
WV: "Bonder" - not quite.
Oh, that's way better than things I've seen out on the playa.
Like the dude riding the bicycle, naked, and, well, the seat was nowhere to be seen. Or his junk for that matter. Which I guess is a feature, but dang if that wasn't a lot of highly corpulent flesh.
I got offered a slot as medical support staff for Burning Man 2011, and an air-conditioned tent to sleep in on-site.
I decided to just say no.
The tickets are cool, though. They say, "Admit One Transitional Being."
And who would need money at Burning Man? From what I've been told, everything there is traded or bartered.
I'm with Tam on this one...some thing's are best left unseen...beside's a mind eraser only work's the one time...
You would think they'd get a physically appealing specimen to model that product. But no, they get a reject from the kielbasa factory.
*needs Brain Bleach*
Read the comments.
Pondered my past experiences on the tubes.
Nope....no clicky this fine evening. Think I'll go fondle my new toy instead.
BGM
WV: bagies - Sorry, snickering too uch to be clever.
I have forgiven yer roomie for banning me from commenting on her blog. After all, she was two-thirds right, I being a drunken racist, But Not an Evil One!
Having read this here, I hereby rescind the forgiveness. That is just evil.
that's one wrinkly elephant trunk...
Evidently this is what happens to six-pack abs after one too many twelve-packs.
Heh- the 'fun' of the internet just gets better and better... I'll pass on the link though :-)
And who would need money at Burning Man? From what I've been told, everything there is traded or bartered.
HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAAH
That rule only applies to the peons. Yes, the official literature goes on and on and on about "barter economy" and "radical self-expression" and so forth, and selling stuff is explicitly forbidden. And then there's Center Camp, run by the organizers, where they sell ice and coffee, because who can expect a San Francisco Hipster to manage to go a whole week without a soy half-caf latte?
Yes, I've gone, and I'm planning on going again--hey, I'm with Death Guild / Thunderdome and how could that not be fun--but there's a fair bit of hypocrisy involved.
Bloody supposed anti-capitalist leftists.
The link is pretty tame. I've seen much stranger things. You'd think people hadn't seen the truly weird and disturbing stuff the internet brings us.
I've never been to Burning Man, but I know a couple of people who had an interactive art installation there this year. It might be interesting to see sometime. I've wondered how the reality compares to the theory. The whole "gifting" economy concept sounds pretty fragile to me.
Hell, Perlhaqr, it is fragile; that's why it's one weekend a year and not 24/7/365. They can philosophize all they like but people are going there 'cos they enjoy it.
Nor do I especially mind nudity. I was just taken aback.
(For the guy who asks "why a money belt?" Look, even if nobody sold even ice and coffee, the weekend ends and Mr. Nekkid Dude will be climbin' into his Art Car and returning to Duluth. Say he is SuperDood, with a cooler fulla munchies an' slips into his skivvies on the freeway, he's still gonna hafta stop for fuel at some point, and I'd bet Sunoco or BP looks askance at offering a chicken and a kinetic sculpture in swap for a tank of diesel or a bottle of propane.)
Just: if it helps, y'all can tell me to not comment on your blog. Deal? ;)
Oooops, I mean Richard; Perl knows it is, 'cos he passes the "Vas you dere?" test.
Thing is, a whole lotta people who have mutually and voluntarily decided to make it work can, in fact, do that very thing, for just about any "it."
When socioeconomic systems insist on sweepin' up people who don't want to play along, it starts fallin' apart.
And that's howcome I'm an anarchist. An-cap, 'cos trading value for value at a mutually (dis)agreeable rate is the one square way I know of for groups with conflicting notions to avoid warfare, theft or brigandage; but with each little intentional community, why, how they arrange matter is up to the willing, aware participants. (I 'spoze there's more than a little Lysander Spooner in that notion, too).
Roberta, feel free to comment on my blog at any time, using the most nasty revolting bad language you can think of, and I'll not delete yer comment. I might respond to your comment, or I might ignore your comment, but I'll not delete it.
"I hollered, 'Don't look, Ethel,' but it was too late."
You get extra points from me for the reference. You are on a streak.
Given that, with very few notable exceptions, we all have genitals, I'm still surprised at our reactions to the sight of them, especially given that most of us have a bathroom mirror, or the occasional significant other.
I've known since I could first think the thought that I dug women, but I'm not upset by the sight of a penis. I wonder why it's so popular to portray one's self as being so? We seem to have at some point begun to regress a bit toward Victorianism. (Before which time, interestingly enough, swimclothes where virtually unknown, yet swimming was not.)
Matt said PENIS!!1!
It was the unexpectedness that got to me. I know, I know -- Burning Man, I should'a knowed better.
XKCD cartoon today. Don't worry, its safe for work.
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