YSaC, Vol. 1077: Mirror in the bathroom ….
2011 September 13
Amazing Mirror – $40
Can be used as a mirror or wall painting. Perfect condition!
Call xxx-xxx-xxxx if interested. Hurry this deal will not last.
Seriously, this is an amazing mirror. One minute it’s a normal mirror, and then next minute it’s a photo-realistic painting of what is directly opposite it in the room! I have no idea how it does it. Sometimes I try to sneak up on it and surprise it, to catch it switching back and forth from one mode to the other, but by the time I get in front of it, it has somehow morphed into an amazing portrait of me!
I just can’t figure out why my part is on the wrong side, though. It’s like the artist is seeing things backwards or something.
Thanks, Lauren!
A “Gross Point Blank” soundtrack reference? Or something more sinister?
You be the judge.
Knowing the Llamanun’s tastes in music, I’m going with the former.
Meh, not so amazing. It’s photoshopped! I called it!
Definately shopped, you can tell from the pixels.
And the receipt.
It was clearly purchased in a shop and not online.
Curiouser and curiouser!
Yes, a mirror, if you actually look like a badly proportioned Calvin and Hobbes stick figure.
Painting of what?!? Why would I want a painting of someone else’s house? I’m so confused. *spreads cream cheese frosting on plate of coffee slices* I’ll be back later and see if having these has been helpful.
Schroedingers painting:
You instantly cover the whole surface of the mirror with a chrome spray paint. The previously captured image (you holding a can of spray paint) will bounce between the two layers infinitely until you remove the chrome paint. Just like if it were a painting!*
*May be 97% less like a painting than advertised.
Exactly why I’m afraid to close my eyes while Uncle Jimmy says grace…….
Mirror, Mirror
Hanging there
Who is that in their underwear?
If I move, so too does he.
Where the hell could he be?
All I want is to say hello
He seems sort of cool, you know?
Mirror, Mirror
Hanging there
Who is that in their underwear?
OT: Dah. I forgot I haven’t used the laptop since becoming Lyle. Our big computer is on a time-out so I have to use the laptop for the moment… >.< So pretend my name is right up there!
Never imagine yourself not to be otherwise than what it might appear to others that what you were or might have been was not otherwise than what you had been would have appeared to them to be otherwise.
Can you diagram that sentence?
This is what happens when you use a super-ultra-mega-high-gloss sealant on your wall painting – it’s so shiny, it’s like it’s a frickin’ mirror.
But can you ride it down a snow bank?
Bingo!
Oh, the silent majesty of a winter’s morn… the clean, cool chill of the holiday air… an asshole in his bathrobe, emptying a chemical toilet into my sewer…
Shitter was full!
Reminds me of the silver wallpaper with orange butterflies all over it that I tore down from my bathroom, left from the previous owner. It doubled as ugly. Once torn down, it doubled as trash.
Goodness, I think I’ve visited that bathroom.
In the ’70s.
I wish I had pictures of all the hideous 70s bathrooms I’ve been in, such that I could inflict them on those poor, unsuspecting souls who didn’t have the joy of Brady Bunch-era bathroom decor. We had green with black handprints in our bathroom (creepy the more you think about it), our friends had brown, gold, and orange flowers, and the coup-de-gras was the lemon yellow with overhead lights that had enough candle power to tan my dad’s bald head.
In addition to the ugly wallpaper, it had pink tiles on the floor and pink tiles up the wall about waist high… with a pink toilet and a pink sink. The pink tub is gone, banished for a nice shiny new white one. The pink toilet is going to stay but the pink sink is going. Where the wallpaper once was is a nice new coat of white paint.
The house was built in the late 60’s, so that should explain everything. The rest of the house had been somewhat updated but the bathroom was in a time-warp.
We never had that wallpaper—but my best friend’s house was covered in it. I had to come home just to let my pupils dilate.
“Pardon me, my eyes won’t stop puckering.”
I lived in an apt. with black and white wallpaper of line drawings of dogs in people clothes doing people things (walking with an umbrella, sitting on a park bench, carrying a briefcase).
Oh, come on! You haven’t lived until you’re bazooka puking into a lime green toilet at age 15 after you and the guy who is decorating the shower with soggy Froot Loops drank a bottle of Jack and made Velveeta omelets.
Saturday night at my house growing up.
Bazooka Puking is IF’s Colostomy Explosion spin-off band.
I thought it was an official event during Rush Week…
I’ve seen one of those, and they are truly amazing. The brush strokes are so fine that you can’t even see them. The artist even managed to anticipate the amount of light in the room at any given moment.
And your eyes follow you as you move around the room. *shivers*
More amazingly- when I get drunk it turns into an impressionist painting!
You’re supposed to drink stuff that ‘stays’ down. Unless you’re really a cow/camel/goat/rabbit?
And the representation of mirror’s inhumanity to man (and woman) is second to none. Particularly under harsh, unflattering fluorescent lighting.
Wow, it’s amazing the advances in tardis’ (tardii?) these days, isn’t it?
“Whoa, the house on the other side of the mirror looks bigger for some reason.”
In this case wouldn’t in be a retardii?
I think Sparky is confused. This isn’t a mirror that doubles as a picture. It’s obviously a mirror that doubles as a video-recording. Those are action shots you’re witnessing!
With the police watching from the other side of said mirror, yes?
Or the executives at the Mall of the Millennium.
SN – Call for you on line 2, says he’s George Orwell. Something about your big brother….
Doublegood rightthink sayspeak, drubrother!
I think if the seller took a moment to reflect, Sparky might realize that he doesn’t have a painting.
not.a.painting?
He might be worried he is going to make a glass out of himself.
Seven years’ bad luck after the ‘accident’ with super-glue, glitter, and that night-time only blood donation center . . . ?
You can watch yourself while you are eating
Yay for getting the title reference.
Oops. This is drmk. We’re not completely interchangeable.
You mean you’re not Micronauts?
I have the song on my mp3 player 🙂
I think Sparky’s been framed.
*Sets up two mirrors in parallel*
INFINITE TACOTHONG!
*JINGLY JINGLY JINGLY*
There’s bound to be an earth-shattering KABOOM in a minute, here.
I think someone should, in the interest of an offsetting reaction, divide by zer-
Oh shi-
i/2! perhaps?
Where’s Bombdude when you need him?
Now hold on here, do you really want jingly bits scattered over 20 acres?
Annnddd…there it is.
But how would this look on my ceiling?
High.
Reflectoporn?
Let me reflect a moment
.
.
.
Pretty damned tacky.
It would have to be pretty tacky to stick to the ceiling. You wouldn’t want it to fall at a critical moment.
Would not want it falling at a non-critical moment, either.
It would take weeks of therapy for the cat.
Sparky: “But I don’t want to go among mad people”
GC: “Oh, you can’t help that,” we’re all mad here. I’m mad. You’re mad.”
Sparky: “How do you know I’m mad?”
GC: “You must be,”or you wouldn’t have come here.”
Hammy, something’s wrong with your comma.
Quotema.
There’s also a stray quotation mark in there.
A bath would probably fix that. Oh, and maybe a picture mirror.
I was feeling puctual today.
As long as his colon is okay.
Semi-
Bless it….
No Sparky, it doesn’t.
Mirror Mirror on the wall, tell me what you see.
Pure reflection surely knows the many sides of me.
I gaze upon the looking glass, seeing what I lack.
I look at what I am, in vibrant shades of black
Mirror I am longing, for signs of life anew
Reflect the colors of my soul in every rainbow’s hue
I dream to have an image, of hope, in destiny
Mirror could you find a way, to tell that lie to me
Jane Van Doe
[OT] Had a cool/freaky dream last night. Dreamt that a garbage dump had been built too close to a river used for drinking water and it had poisoned a town. This lead to lots of mutants and zombies running around while myself and my team of survivors tried to find a safe haven and set up a defense structure.
The freakiest thing were the “Children Collectors.” Short human/frog hybrid things that would trundle along leading children away to be zombified/mutated. Our only attempt to stop one of these little processions taught us that the children were already zombies, and it was just a ruse to bring us out in the open for an ambush.
There was seriously a lot of messed up stuff going on in this dream. Zombie plague rats, a giant cyclops mutant that threw zombies at us, and a zombie disco. Yeah.
Anyway, just had to share it as it would have made an awesome movie or video game.
[/OT]
Also, according to spell check, “dreamt” isn’t a word. Merriam Webster disagrees.
Ahh, so you’ve been to Prague.
Prague? I thought that was Budapest.
I thought it was Grozny, Chechnya, Russia.
Split, Croatia.
No more caramel, sauerkraut, and marshmallow sundaes before bed.
Yeah, the zombie disco was pretty over-the-top even for a zombie dream. My team was fairly incredulous about the whole thing and I woke up shortly after.
You, too, are unconsciously/subconsciously snarky? I love it.
The ZomBeegees…SWEET!
Ah ha ha ah stayin’ dead
Stayin’ Undead
By the ZomBeegees
Well you can tell by the way I shamble out,
That I’m an undead man; eatin’ brains no doubt.
Music loud and entrails warm, I’ve been eating good,
Since I bought the farm.
Now it’s all right, I’m OK,
Your brain matter’s mostly grey.
We can try to decompose,
But being a zombie mostly blows.
You know I’m a zombie and you’ll soon be a zombie,
Cause we’re stayin’ undead, stayin’ undead.
See the people fleein and the zombies eatin’,
When we’re stayin’ undead, stayin’ undead.
Ah ha ha ha stayin’ undead, stayin’ undead.
Ah ha ha ha stayin’ undead.
And The Walking Dead now has its theme song for Season 3.
Taco, this is worth the ensuing earworm. Thank you!
*flings many doors*
Ensuing Earworm is the name of my Barry Manilow cover band.
Jive Taco
By: The ZomBeegees
It’s just you jive Taco. You’re feedin’ us lines, yeah.
Jive Taco, your jingly disguise.
Jive Taco, we misunderstood, yeah.
Jive Taco, your spellin’s no good.
Oh, my Taco, we’ll never understand
Just what you mean to say.
Oh, my Taco, you type with some mugs;
You’re gonna take away my synergy.
With all your jive Taco, you’re feedin’ us lines, yeah.
Bad spellin’’ please poke out my eyes.
Nobody can read what you say.
It’s just your jive Taco that types it that way.
Ooh, jive Taco, jive Taco, ooh, jive Taco.
It gets me right here *pats chest* in the lung.
*ponders* I have to get up at 5:30 am, be at work by 7:00, so I can catch a ride south to the training center for mandatory training. Should I just put Taco in the box now? I could sleep in another five minutes that way.
This would make an awesome video game. Or Douglas Adams-esque novel.
“Now the Zombie Disco is one of the most notoriously interesting things in the universe for two important reasons:
First, because it’s the third worst smelling thing in the universe, being only less harfully nausiating than the ill-concieved planet formed out of the left-over greenbean casseroles from the various holidays around the universe, and Harold S. McManning’s dirty sock basket at the end of the month.
And second, because of how startlingly unlikely a thing a zombie disco happens to be. On the believability scale, the Zombie Disco was rated somewhere below a packet of shrimp flavored ramen noodles being considered “rather deliscious.” Of course, it’s still viewed as hugely more likely than finding the locks that all those extra keys go to.”
For those playing at home, imagine that Stephen Fry is narrating the above.
Watch out, Taco. Molly Lewis might come after you next.
Set it in Yosemite in black and white and it can be Ansel Adams-esque.
I have a new favorite Molly.
(OK, she’s right behind Hatchett and Molly Pitcher.)
My analysis (as a professional Dr Monkey*): You fell asleep with the TV on and caught at least part of the Simpsons movie and wove it into your dream.
Hubby Monkey has to have the TV on to sleep and I have dreams based on the infomercials that play all night. I have blood curdling scream inducing nightmares involving Flowbees and male enhancement products and pajama jeans.
*I’m not an actual doctor, it’s an honorary degree.
Personally I think it was more a reflection of the penutbutter, banana and honey sandwich I ate before bed.
Sorry, I read that as “penisbutter”.
Check this out: http://www.urbandictionary.com/define.php?term=Penut (2 possible definitions of penut).
You can’t make me click on that.
I learned early never to click on an Urban Dictionary link – no good will come of it.
My strangest dreams seem to occur when I’ve eaten too much cheese before bedtime… but they’ve given me such good story ideas.
I could probably get a pretty decent dystopian novel out of a nightmare that I had after eating too much fried chicken.
(o/t)
I spent a better part of my morning chasing down an error in inventory for my department (I do logistics/material control in a factory). Basically, we were missing maybe 1400 pieces. After hours of searching/researching and being late for lunch and developing a BINCH of a headache, turns out it was a shipping error in our warehouse. In other words, not.a.monkey.booboo. I think I will go throw some poo now.
:passes FM a bananarama daiquiri:
Thanks, I needed that.
I once worked in a job where I managed to, through an accounting error, misplace over $500,000.
It’s amazing what havoc a misplaced decimal point can wreak. Luckily I found it before anyone else knew what I’d done … but wow, was I nervous for a while!
See, if I thought I had lost that kind of cash, I would just pack my stuff and leave. I wouldn’t assume it was a mistake and try to fix it. I would just run like the wind. But then I’m a big fat coward.
This is so perfect!!! Windy … make a note to include this in the YSAC Art Show that we talked about this weekend.
Done. 8)
Beware the Jabberwock.
Dave and Ferret Tribe, you worked hard for this Punchity Punch Punch! Now, enjoy it. 8)
G’Night, Venice!