I know, I know, there’s a gallery of satellite photos in “NBN” like once a month. Heck, even last week’s Haiku installment had one. What can I say? I am a sucker for picture taken from (*sets megaphone to echo*) outerrrrrrr spaaaaaaaaaace (space space space). Do you know how hard it is to come back from four days off and have to work? Tell me you were productive between the hours of 9 a.m. and 5 p.m. on Monday. And I don’t mean cleaning out your junk e-mail folder or lining up paper clips in size order or checking for updates to iTunes (full disclosure—I do maybe two and likely all three of those things at least 27 times a day). So what if satellite photo galleries are like the free space in Bingo? I love the free space (more full disclosure—for some reason, my Bingo card has five free spaces in a diagonal line. I know, so weird right? The old people at the senior citizen center always get mad but whatever, those Jimmy Buffett sandals had my name on them). I forgot what I was talking abo…ooo, look! Satellite photos of Earth!
Whatever really happened to cause this whole bizarre, Gary Busey-esque Tiger Woods story probably isn’t all that bad. The guy slept around a little bit? Big deal. He plays golf for a living, has a smoking hot wife and one of those Scrooge McDuck vaults full of money. Everyone knows true happiness is found in the G-string of a Vegas nightclub executive. Letting the media run wild with stories isn’t going to do him any favors, but those are hurdles he can probably get over too. What he is not going to be able to surmount is a computer-animated video, care of China, that lays out the entire shebang. Woods will forever be known as the guy who crashed his black blue Cadillac Escalade minivan into a fire hydrant and tree. See, it doesn’t matter what details were reported. This video is inconclusive evidence of what really went down. Did you know it was actually one of those giant tripods from War of the Worlds that made Tiger swerve his car? It’s the truth! Don’t let trashy American media tell you otherwise!
When I first got to college I was pre-med. Let that sink in for a moment—I began the final stages of my schooling years learning to cut open bodies and ended them with a loose knowledge of AP style. And people wonder why I rely on strikethroughs and Kirstie Alley jokes to get by. Anyway, there were two reasons that pushed me away from medicine. The first was I absolutely hated taking biology and chemistry classes, which were designed as weed-outs—my freshman biology class had 900 students. I wish there was a caps lock for numbers to illustrate how insane that is. The prospect of making millions of dollars could have helped overcome that, but something else got in the way, and that is my extreme, little girl-like aversion to anything doctor-y. It’s why I scream until the nurse promises to draw blood from my finger and not my arm. Looking at these pictures of smashed Ferraris and totaled Lamborghinis gives me the same feeling. Same reason I didn’t become a mechanic.
I think it’s generally considered a bad thing when a place gets flooded. People generally aren’t jumping for joy when a tsunami hits the mainland and washes away their homes, although in fairness, it’s hard to jump when your head is underwater. Nobody was smiling when Hurricane Katrina demolished New Orleans (except George Bush—am I right?!), and poor people were screaming from the cut-out windows of their cardboard houses when Roland Emmerich racked up a $200 million tab to make digital waves carry the USS John F. Kennedy into the White House. Who actually enjoys flooding? The Italians, of course. “Mamma mia! Thisa the water, it’sa fillin’ upa mya basement!” The crazy thing is, the high water—acqua alta for my Italian demographic—happens every single year. You’d think somebody over there would build their house on a gondola or something. Does everyone in Italy get one of those frog suits from Super Mario Bros.? I’ve never been there.
Follow me on Twitter! | I Tweeted Brooke Burke the other night and long story short, she didn’t respond. I’m going to tweet love poems to her until she responds (or calls the police). Wish me luck!