Plumbing is so gay

Plumbing is gay.

Plumbing first has to be sexual before it can be gay, right? Enter the engineer who came up with plumbing fittings to begin with. He undoubtedly was a middle-aged dork with a collection of super hero action figures (think 40 year old virgin (but not 29)). As we all know plumbing fittings come in two flavors--male and female. Why male and female? Because this middle-aged dork engineer got his jollies by screwing the male nipple into the female union. He got off on the thought of male pipe threads sealing against fluids by virtue of fitting tightly inside tapered female threads. His eyes rolled back at the convention (and there's no good reason for it) that the male end always points in the direction of fluid flow. But let me stop, lest we begin to think maybe he was on to something.

So there is no doubt whatsoever plumbing is sexual. Now let me tell you why it's so gay. In particular, 45 degree flare fittings are particularly gay. I go down to the local hardware store to buy some fittings for what ought to be a very simple job. I've got a 3/8 inch male flare fitting sticking out of a pipe in the wall. These flare fittings usually go on at the end of black steel pipe (regular pipe threads) to allow easy connections to gas appliances. So I want to attach a T to this male flare fitting so that I can have two male flare fittings sticking out to install two appliances. Really, this T business should be done back at the steel pipe, but I'm trying to avoid this.

So I go down to the store like I said and I look for a T. When I finally do find one (three stores later) the T is all male. You may as well have tied together three coctail weiners together in a spoke pattern. (and the particular shape of flare fittings only help to enhance the visual) Think about it. If you're in need of a T you're probably going to install it between some existing male-female connection. You undo that connection and you wind up with a male on one end and a female on the other. The T, it stands to reason, should, therefore, include at least one female end, right? No way, plumbing is so gay it won't pass up the chance to shove a male fitting in your face. Three weiners even better.

Ok, so now I've got to find a fitting to connect two males together. Well, the things that connect two females together are called nipples. The things that connect two males together, well those we call full-on couplings. So gay. So I'm looking at like four different stores and none of them have couplings for flare fittings, but I look up at the shelves of each of these stores and they're chuck full of male nipples, male reducers, male three-way T's etc. All very gay. It's a veritable coctail weiner-fest, let me tell you. But no couplings. Why? because then you'd have two male ends pointing at each other and that would break the convention that the male end must point in the direction of fluid flow....And that would be gay.

Pics for the sake of pics

A view of the Philly skyline from my apartment rooftop last year. You can see the spire of Independence Hall sticking up above the trees about a quarter of the way from the left. Looks just like the one at Knott's.

More funny pics. This one was found outside the law school At Rutgers, Camden. I would have called it "Eve with angel."

This is a very sad me sitting outside a McDonalds in Flagstaff, AZ. My transmission was on the fritz and I decidedto drive back to LA rather than continue on to NJ.

Outside a tattoo shop in beautiful Santa Barbara. Boy, let me tell you , was I tempted to pierce my "anything!"

Reliving the Past

It's funny picture day. This was my bathroom when I lived with FriendD. I used to buy my beer by the case from Costco faster than I could drink it so it piled up. There just happened to be a convenient spot next to the john. Funny, it never occurred to me to put a couple bottles in the toilet tank to keep then chilled for those extra memorable *ahem* sessions. Good suggestion, though. Almost as good as the one about installing a moveable keyboard tray that swings over your lap when you just can't get enough of CNN.com.

Penguin ribs

The siren call of Hometown Buffet has marooned my little skiff…again. When will I learn to avoid those rocky shoals? Hmmm…when they no longer serve barbeque ribs. And when they no longer let me get in at the lunch price ten minutes before they switch over to dinner and bring out those barbeque ribs.

Penguins are supposed to be flightless birds, but I’ve found the flightiest of the bunch....

Update 02/04/07: And she overtook the flying pig on her way out.

Firefly

Firefly lights our steps through untrod weald,
...

Update 2/4/07: It was a cute poem too, but it had to go.

Penguins Need Lovin' Too

Update 2/4/07: This one definitely had to go.

And Nothing Happened

Ever wonder what would happen if you told the guy who's miserable job was to put a stripe through your receipt in highlighter neon pink to go pound sand?

I was at Fry's the other day and I just told the guy "I'm not in the mood" and walked out. Nothing happened. It felt good.

Ok, for the legally curious, here's the way I see it. In a nutshell, a claim of false imprisonment may lie against someone who intentionally causes you to be confined for an unreasonable period of time within defined boundaries and with the plaintiff's knowledge of the confinement. So, if I call the receipt guy at the front of the store a son of a motherless goat and simply walk off and then he has security tackle me and hold me...hmmm...sounds like a case of false imprisonment, right? Here's the rub. Shopkeepers have a privilege that modifies the usual rule as applied to them. Shopkeepers may detain ayone they suspect of shoplifting in order to ascertain the facts so long as it is done on reasonable grounds and for a reasonable time.

So here's my theory. The reason you have to wait in line twice--the second time at the door waiting for that pimply-faced kid to put a stupid highlighter stripe through your receipt--is so that the store can later claim it was acting reasonably when they detain you. So back to Fry's. The security guard could have tackled me to the ground (reasonable force in defense of property), held me for a couple hours (probably reasonable time) and claimed they were acting reasonably since my refusal to have my receipt "verified" (stupid good-for-nothing- and totally meaningless stripe) creates sufficient suspicion that I have something to hide for them to sick their security goons on me.

So, all they're doing is covering their ass. Way to go lawyers.

Art Appreciation 101

It’s art appreciation time. I know—groan. It’s not so bad, really. Think of it as an on-line humanities class.


We have here Flaming June in brilliant orange. This is a painting I have always loved. It was executed by the fabulously successful and still-influential Victorian painter Lord Frederic Leighton. His paintings brilliantly captured the Victorian nostalgia and longing for the glorious "Golden Age" of ancient Greece and Rome. Leighton depicted an idealized vision of the past that perfectly appealed to the sensibilities of the time.




There now. That didn't hurt a bit, did it.

Why Lovers are Annoying...and endearing

The stars are naught, a child’s bauble to strew,
For the lovers’ small universe fits but two.

Update 2/4/07: This one stays because it's a truism that won't be changing any time soon.

The Head Hunter Shrunk My Head

Yes! One of the two head hunters I was speaking with asked me to come in for an interview Wednesday. I have to admit, though I've rebuffed a few head hunters in the past, this is the first time I actually follow up on one of their offers. Well, not an offer yet. I've noticed one of them being very careful to avoid using that word, for good reason.

So here's therub. First, I have no idea what job I'm interviewing for, if any. This could be an interview for one of several document review jobs they have open. Then again, it might just amount to having someone's summary of the itnerview added to their file on me just in case they ever do get a client that's looking for someone with my qualifications.

Second, I'm not interviewing directly with the company who needs the work done; I'm interviewing with the agency that said company hired to find someone to fill the post. So, whereas I've always intereviewed directly with companies and firms--I'm pretty good at chatting them up about their business and how I fit into it--here, I'm interviewing with some stranger who works for a placement agency who was hired by a person who works for a firm.... As far as I know, my interviewer's only concern is that I won't disappoint their client and give the placement agency a black eye. So what am I supposed to talk to them about? How I promise realy realy hard with a cherry on top that I won't screw up on the job?

Well, I've always been a pretty good interviewer so we'll see.

_________________________________________

Oh, get this. The other head hunter--the one with the IP job--want's to know what my "gut fee" is on whether or not I passed the bar. Since he's only asking for a gut feel I can paint the picture as rosey as I want, right? Hmmm...ethics....

What color is your balloon?

There's something about leaving the cool, dark, popcorn-scented movie theater and stepping into the harsh, eye-assaulting light of day. It makes you want to crawl back in and...take a nap. Yesterday, despite the arm rest digging into my right kidney...

Update 2/4/07: And the kidney's doing much better now. The rest of this syrupy post had to go.

Osama and stuff

Today I got two calls from two head hunters. One's looking to fill document review positions. These are temporary contract positions that involves tedious and not terribly lawyerly work. Pay's typically about $25/hour. It's ok, but not great.

The other guy wants to market me to a firm that actually does IP work. The firm apparently has a position for what sounds like a third-year intern, but may consider someone in my position. Sounds good, except I'll have to provide them copies of my transcripts. They're not as impressive as they ought to be.

In other news, I'm considering ghost writing a chapter in the life of someone I know. I'm not sure if the contract will come through. Interesting project, though.

Oh, the Osama stuff. Ya, check out the pic above. This is a scan of a lollipop wrapper I found in the parking lot of a New Jersey subway station shortly after 9/11. It's Mexican candy. An American company wouldn't have the guts--or the tremendously bad taste--to make this.

My rose has a last name and it isn't M-e-y-e-r

"What's in a name? That which we call a rose
By any other word would smell as sweet."

--From Romeo and Juliet (II, ii, 1-2)

All names and words are metaphors. A word illicits in the mind of the one who hears it a particular object which the hearer has been conditioned to associate with the word. Were it not for that association, however, the word would have no meaning. A word stands in the place of the concrete thing to which it refers and is in that sense a metaphor.

Names, likewise, have no meaning apart from the persons they're attached to. Last night I learned the name of my noname friend.... Update 2/4/07: These intervening lines had to go too, but the rest is good.

(The photo was taken by placing my digital camera up to the eyepiece of a small telescope pointed accross the yard at a rose.)

Life just got a little suckier.

I just lost the last three years of my life. My law school notes, exams, papers, all gone. And Windows blows chunks. And not just the little chunks you find in sour milk. These are the great heaping sopping wet chunks of pizza crust you vomitted up after your tenth rum and coke.