Friday, 29 October 2010
Wednesday, 27 October 2010
I've been wearing a wrist brace at work. When a fellow programmer sees it for the first time I simply say, "It's my mouse hand," and they understand. It's a repetitive stress injury, due to years of semi-bad posture at my desk job.Non-programmers don't always understand right away. It can be a little embarrassing, too. "Repetitive Stress" sounds vaguely impressive, but when you get right down to it, it's just aggressive mousing. Nobody is much impressed when I confess to being injured by my mouse.
A few days ago, Lightyear saw me wearing the brace. Lightyear is an older fellow, and he has no volume control. He immediately pointed and shouted, "JEFF! What'd you do?!? Are you OK?!?"I blushed. "Oh, I'm OK."
I started to explain, but Lightyear cut me off. "Hey, you're not uh... ", he started to snap the fingers on one hand, trying to think. "...you're not becoming... oh, what was that pop singer's name... MICHAEL JACKSON! Yeah, you're not becoming Michael Jackson, are you?"
I thought about Michael Jackson's path from 'black man' to 'white woman'. "I'm halfway there, *and* I've got a glove," I thought. I grinned. Out loud I said, "Not intentionally."
"Well," said Lightyear, "then there's hope for ya."
He never asked what actually happened to my wrist. I guess if I'm not changing race and gender, then it must not be too bad.
It did make me wonder, though... what *would* I look like, as Michael Jackson?... Hm...
Unbelievable. I'm not white enough. Who'd have thunk it?
Monday, 25 October 2010
Big Dawg promised me a Photoshop Jeff "mustache" pic.It was a bold promise. After all, Big Dawg has a long history of hate with Photoshop. He actually tried briefly, but then decided to try a non-traditional approach.
He went onto Amazon.com and bought a fake mustache.
He also bought a pair of mirrored sunglasses.
I did mention this was a non-traditional approach, right? Check this out:
Sorry about the blur (cell phone camera).
When the hysterical laughter died down a bit, OoRah said he felt a sudden urge to go watch CHiPs. I commented that I looked like a cross between a biker and a cop. Maarek said, "Too bad you don't have a bandanna..."
"Oh," I said, "I actually have a bandanna."
I ran over to my desk and grabbed a "US Cellular" bandanna that I got years ago as a freebie from a local Arena Football game.
There was more hysterical laughter. As the cell phone cameras were raised, somebody commented, "Now he's like a pirate... if he just had a throwing star, he could be a pirate-ninja!..."
"Just a minute," I said as I ran back to my desk. I picked up my paper throwing star from our "International Act Like A Ninja Day".
For your enjoyment, the crowning glory of Big Dawg's non-traditional Photoshop Jeff efforts... Jeff the Pirate-Ninja-Biker-Cop (with US Cellular bandanna):
It's amazing how fun Photoshop Jeff can be when you have physical access to the Jeff.
For the record, that fake mustache smelled AWFUL.
Friday, 22 October 2010
Out of nowhere, The Golfer showed up with two cookies.
Most of my co-workers had gone home, but OoRah and Big Dawg were still there with me. Big Dawg quickly turned down a cookie, which left one each for OoRah and myself.
The cookies were pretty big. "One has some kind of cinnamon apple sprinkles on top," explained The Golfer, "And the other is nuts."
"Gee," I said, looking at OoRah. "Which one of us is nuts?"
From behind came the voice of Big Dawg. "That's a tough call."
"I bet I'm more nuts than you," challenged OoRah.
"You could be right, except you're not!"
By end of the challenge / response time, the floor was covered in cookie crumbs, peanut fragments, and failed bravado (mostly mine). OoRah took the cinnamon apple cookie. I got the napkins.
Mmmmm... fiber.
Most of my co-workers had gone home, but OoRah and Big Dawg were still there with me. Big Dawg quickly turned down a cookie, which left one each for OoRah and myself.
The cookies were pretty big. "One has some kind of cinnamon apple sprinkles on top," explained The Golfer, "And the other is nuts.""Gee," I said, looking at OoRah. "Which one of us is nuts?"
From behind came the voice of Big Dawg. "That's a tough call."
"I bet I'm more nuts than you," challenged OoRah.
"You could be right, except you're not!"
By end of the challenge / response time, the floor was covered in cookie crumbs, peanut fragments, and failed bravado (mostly mine). OoRah took the cinnamon apple cookie. I got the napkins.
Mmmmm... fiber.
Thursday, 21 October 2010
Wednesday, 20 October 2010
It was a long and winding conversation that eventually led to ... airplanes.
"Airplanes tend to fly low near my house," Maarek explained. "I don't worry about the big commercial airliners though, because if they crash they'll take out the whole neighborhood and I'll never hear it coming. No problem."
OoRah blinked. "Actually, the survival rate for airplane crashes is about 80%."
"Yes, but I'll be on the ground."
Maarek's nonchalant pessimism made OoRah pause for a moment. "No," he countered, "That number includes people on the ground."
"You don't understand... I'll be *under* the plane."
They started talking at the same time. I stepped in and motioned to OoRah. "Don't bother him with facts, this is his 'Happy Place'. It makes him happy."
While OoRah laughed, I turned to Maarek. "Don't worry. I'm sure you'll be killed on impact."
Maarek perked up happily. "Thanks!"
I don't understand why that's a comforting statement.
Jeff McClung... Peacemaker.
Air travel is inherently safe
OoRah blinked. "Actually, the survival rate for airplane crashes is about 80%."
"Yes, but I'll be on the ground."
Maarek's nonchalant pessimism made OoRah pause for a moment. "No," he countered, "That number includes people on the ground."
"You don't understand... I'll be *under* the plane."
They started talking at the same time. I stepped in and motioned to OoRah. "Don't bother him with facts, this is his 'Happy Place'. It makes him happy."
I'm coming to get you! Ha!
Maarek perked up happily. "Thanks!"
I don't understand why that's a comforting statement.
Jeff McClung... Peacemaker.
Monday, 18 October 2010
So life-like... easily mistakable for the real thing...
OoRah's got one of those things. The battery and/or the speaker on it is in pretty bad shape, so it sounds more like a whispered "thip" than a "pop". Somehow this just makes the toy even funnier.
OoRah leaned over my cubical wall a few days ago with the keychain in hand. He grinned down at me while pushing near-silent buttons. "I'm popping bubbles!", he gleefully announced.
With tremendous enthusiasm, I pointed at him and shouted "You *GO*, girl!"
I have no idea why he lets me live.
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