YSaC, Vol. 1010: Able was I, ere I saw Craigslist.
(Camera opens on a happy family getting ready to go out on some sort of wholesome family outing, probably involving running about in a field, slightly out of focus.)
Voiceover: “Are various symptoms preventing you from living life to the fullest?”
(“Dad,” played by an avuncular community theater actor who’s been trying to earn his SAG card for four years, pauses on his way out the door to look vaguely discomforted. “Mom” looks at him sympathetically, while mentally deciding whether or not to have Thai for lunch.)
“Symptoms are now the number one result of medical conditions in America. Fortunately, now there’s NAPLONENEtm! Naplonenetm has been shown to be effective in clinical trials* against many common symptoms. Except for the ones where it isn’t. Ask your doctor about Naplonenetm!”
NAPLONENE Oil Painting
redecorating,
(Not an original)
Very Large- Bonaparte crossing the Alps cavalry in a fancy frame
excellent shape, minus a little nick in the lower side left part of frame.
willing to accept any offer!
“Ask your doctor about NAPLONENEtm today!”
(Wide shot of “Dad” playing with a couple of rented ten-year-olds who are starting to realize they can start telling mom they don’t want to do these commercials OR the stupid child pageants any more.)
“Please note: Naplonenetm may not actually cure symptoms. Naplonenetm is not for internal use. Possible side effects include mild nausea, severe nausea, crippling nausea, mild fondness for Klezmer music, itching, swelling, a not-so-fresh-feeling, colorblindness, luposlipophobia, loss of appetite, loss of libido, loss of car keys, marmots, and death. Naplonenetm is for internal use only. Do not taunt Naplonenetm.”
*conducted on Thompson’s Gazelles in rural Kyrgyzstan.
Thanks for the post, Lisa!
But Sparky spelled “Bonaparte” right. Bless him.
Wait, not an original? Meh. Not interested.
Many people would pay
goodmoney for a clone of Bonaparte.I think I can spare a couple of dollars from my Lord Of The Rings Monopoly set.
I have a wooden nickel I can spare.
I’ve got a spare tire in the trunk of my car, does that help?
You don’t have any junk in your trunk?
My offer – whatever the feral cats leave by the mailboxes (where they normally do their ablutions and leave various dead and half dead things) this afternoon.
I’ll offer …
:rummages through trash can:
An empty McDonald’s bag, an empty lip gloss tube, and what I pray is a dead spider.
Nope, live spider.
:monkey reaches out, snatches spider, eats it:
You’re welcome, itty bitty kitty.
Waaaahhh!!!
It’s enough to make a grown spider cry.
Ooo! Trash rummaging day!
*rummage rummage* Let’s see… a dust bunny the size of Montana, a couple half-eaten dinosaur chicken nuggets – why does he just eat the heads? – and some used tea bags that are starting to congeal. I think that’s worth something toward this unoriginal, redecorated painting.
I want that dust bunny! I don’t think I could fit it in my apartment though and I don’t know what I would feed it. I don’t want it to eat my cat.
There were dinosaur chickens? How big were they? Were they like mammoth dinosaur chickens? So many questions.
Mine eats the tails first. I think they could be friends :-p
At the very least, they could finish each others’ meals!
I’ll offer a book on history and a dictionary. I’m a helper.
I have an empty liquid paper container, a stapler that doesn’t work, and some paperclips. Do they help?
Where’s MacGyver when you need him?
You have liquid paper and you’re hanging out with us!?
The container is empty, young Paduan.
Never cross the Alps cavalry. They are very vindictive when crossed. Particularly if you do it in a fancy frame.
At least Sparky spelled “cavalry” right.
I crossed the Alps cavalry once and they threatened to cut me.
Further possible side effects include spelling difficulties, a need to point out the glaringly obvious (“Not an original”), abuse of the word “fancy,” and a willingness to accept any offer. If side effects persist, see your community college’s “How to Sell on Craigslist” course immediately.
Well, I have to agree that Boney’s in excellent shape – just look at his left leg! But I’m disappointed that “little nick” on the lower side left has been omitted – portraits of Bonaparte and President Sarkozy together are really hard to get hold of…
I thought “little Nick” was Boney’s nickname for his “hammer.”
I seem to like the corner.
“Little Nick”
Santa, the early years.
Santa is dead.
“Santa is dead.” Nietzsche
“Nietzsche is getting a lump of coal this year.” Santa
“Nobody ever remembers me for these kinds of jokes.” -Easter Bunny
“You think YOU’VE got it bad?” -Tooth Fairy
“Quit your bitchin’ you mythical creatures! In my day when the Easter Bunny came to visit we caught him and used him in the soup for dinner. The kids were scarred for life, but the soup was delicious! The Santa Terrine wasn’t nearly as good though.”
-Grampdaddy
See how pampered Grampdaddy is? He’s not here, and Taco is posting for him. I hope he appreciates you, man.
“Quit your bitchin’ you mythical creatures! In my day when the Easter Bunny came to visit we caught him and used him in the soup for dinner. The kids were scarred for life, but the soup was delicious! The Santa Terrine wasn’t nearly as good though.”
-Grampdaddy
HOLY SH&%!!!! Taco is channeling Grampdaddy!
Please promise me that I don’t have to channel Taco and wear the thong. Please!
You know, I was okay taking Naplonene for a while.
I mean, the drooling and vacant stare did cause one (or more) trips to the psyche ward, but after the stuff wore off – usually right before the max 72 hrs until total committal was reached – I was okay, except for the limp.
Except that one time….but really, it was just one ear…c’mon, people!
Yes, the nausea was annnoying and sometimes crippling, but hey I needed to lose a few pounds, right?
So, really I think the deal breaker for me had to be the angry honey badgers that invaded my house, tethered to the gnomes demanding Domino’s Pizza every night.
I was going broke, folks! I had to cut costs somewhere, so out went my beloved Napolenenenenennee…and here we have it back, on CL, taped to the back of this lovely picture.
Anyone else thinks this reads like some of the things I posted during the two weeks when I stopped drinking coffee.
Yes.
Yep.
This is just a little clearer.
Luposlipophobia! And some people ask me why I love this place so much.
Any place that can make semi-obscure Far Side references is all right by me.
Amen MF
I’d like to see that done while carrying a case of nitroglycerine. Shake things up a bit. Bombdude? Where are you when I need you?
Right here, lurking… Whatcha need?
How does one “Luposilipophobia” whilst carrying a case of nitroglycerin? I don’t grok…
Or was the request to make semi-obscure Far Side references whilst carrying…?
I think the addition of nitroglycerin would make it Luposlipoboomaphobia.
That is definitely a phobia that I am prone to have attacks of…
That and the one of dangling participles…
That is why I never allow myself fresh socks.
Good policy. You don’t want them getting too friendly with your toes.
(OT but brought on by Dan’s for-internal-use-only disclaimer)
I work in shipping and logistics in a manufacturing plant. There is no AC out on the production floor, save for random spot coolers and fans. In August the temps in the deepest parts of the plant reach the upper 90s in the afternoons. At least half-a-dozen people pass out every summer. The company provides bagged ice for the employees in the summer (they put it under their caps or in their shirts or wrap ice in a hanky and wear it around their necks, helps a little). Last week HR posted announcements on the bulletin boards letting everyone know that ice is now being provided, but for “internal use only”.
Hum.
Besides one obvious way to internally use ice, I can think of a few more. I chuckle everytime I see the posting re the ice, no one else has said anything, maybe I’ve been snarking on YSaCL too much and I am warped. Oh well.
Well, there’s two ways to take it internally and only one is recommended.
Doctor’s do not like to ask:
“How did you get that cup up there?”
I can think of three ways to take it internally (if you’re female).
Yes, I wonder if that would help. I worked in production last weekend and put ice in a pair of baggies and shoved them under the shoulders of my tshirt, felt great. I wonder, hum….
*crackle scratch shove crackle crackle*
What a sensation!
Don’t forget the ears and nose, that’s another four.
gc, it would have to be very small pieces of ice for the ears. My nephew once got a tire from a toy truck stuck in his nose, so I don’t see any problem with fitting ice up the nostrils…well besides ending up with ice up your nostrils.
I guess I don’t need to ask FM what she’d do for, or with, a Klondike bar…
See Chapters 43B-V of the Walrus Sutra, Dairy Delights.
I work in a power plant. Next to those boilers, in Texas’ summer heat, the temps easily reach 120+. A few years ago we bought several ice vests for the guys to wear. They’re quite cool – literally – and are worn over the shirt. We keep them in a big deep freezer when not in use. I think they’re filled with some kind of gel, because even frozen they are still pliable.
That and about a gallon of Gatorade AND a gallon of water per man, per day, has kept us from having any heat-related incidents in over 10 yrs.
The technical name of the gel is “Frozen Blue Cold Shit.”
That is according to a very knowlegeable HMCS(FMF) I worked for, once upon a time.
[notation corey]
They changed the notation, what was HMCS is now SHMC.
Which still looks weird, but the bosses decided that’s what we do.
So, it’s [modifier] rating rank; which supplants the Rating Rank[modifier], which only made sense in the puzzle palace. Why we simply do not abbreviate as spoken, (SCHM in this case) well, that’s clearly above my pay grade.
And, it makes reams of printed data out there with meadowmuffins of now-misspelt rank.
Naval enlisted service has a unique rating and rank system, which goes back to when we divided sailors into “able/ordinary” and specialized groups.
Go to Boot camp, you are SN/R, Seaman Recruit. Your rating is as an undifferentiated sailor with a rank of Recruit.
Get out of Boot, and you are an SN/2, Seaman 2nd Class. You then go off to “A School” where you learn a specialized naval trade. You (typically) get promoted during this time and become SN/1, Seaman 1st Class.
If you have passed your trade/rating admissions, you get to have that symbol on your sleeve. You are then sent off to someplace in the Navy that needs a person with that skill set. You put in your time, and you can stand for the exam for the next promotion.
Let’s say you chose to be Gunner’s Mate. Pass the exam, and you get to go from SN/1 to GM/3. which means you are now a Petty Officer 3rd Class in the Gunner’s Mate rating (you get an eagle for your sleeve, too). After that is GM/2 and GM/1.
You put in your time after that, as you are up for the lofty position of E-7, a Chief Petty Officer. No mean feat. Chiefs know stuff. They get to wear khaki and billed hats. They get their own quarters aboard ship, too. Now, we abbreviate Chief Petty Officer as “CPO”; but the notation for a Chief Gunner’s Mate is “GMC” (rating, then rank). For those capable of ascending such Olympian steps, the nest promotion is Senior Chief Petty Officer; for out putative GM, that’s abbreviated SGMC. For those truly transcendent, one last promotion exists, to E-9, and Master Chief Petty Officer. In our example, MGMC.
There is one more enlisted promotion after that, but, you need to have been tight with the guy who becomes Chief of Naval Operations. He gets to employ exactly one E-1o, MCPON, the Master Chief Petty Officer of the Navy. Mere mortal sailors, after reaching E-7 to E-9 get to go throguh the Warrant Officer selection process.
Smed’s reference to HMCS (FMF) may be translated into Senior Chief Hospital Corpsman, the (FMF) refers to Fleet Marine Force, so I suspect the senior chief was an HM-8427, or an HM-84o3, or someone with, oh 20-something years as a combat medic.
[/corey]
That is seriously awesome FM. Take a quick picture of it before they figure out how stupid it is.
Too late for a pic, the ice melted.
Was it as refreshing as eating a York Peppermint Pattie?
One of the legacies of standardized construction specifications (whether CSI or MasterSpec) is that, water gets defined several times. The water for concrete, for grout, for mortar, for thinset, and even for onsite workers.
Some version of “clean, free of debris, vegetable or animal contaminates, and potable” often was used, often with only one word changed between the uses. The twenty or thirty of us educated in English have always to have one simple definition, like “potable” of “fit for human consumption”–but, strangled, would-be legalese, still obtains.
Further complicated by the fact that soil compaction water can, in fact, be water from ditches or the like. As can water used for drilling or boring. So, the terms potable and non-potable are used on construction sites, often in the was flammable and inflammable are used, too.
In the last ten years or so, the use of ice on job sites has changed. Used to be, you just had to provide ice for drinking water if the work site temperature was above 75º. Now, ice for construction processes (concrete), and personal cooling are being added to the specifications. Which has created some hilarity in labeling (if complicated by being legal contract constraints).
Current fave is for ice container labeled “For Non-potable Ice Only”.
Which still causes me to picture an ice machine being fed from a creek or ditch. (Hmm, any of you lab-oriented YSaC types know what algae does to the freeze point of water?)
All impurities, as far as I know, lower the freezing point. However, since the algae doesn’t actually dissolve in water, I don’t think it has a very big impact.
It’s not likely to make very pretty cubes, which would be, ah, just, ah, lovely to work with when shoveled into portable mixers or the like . . .
I know a girl who thinks like goats
She’ll eat your breakfast
She’ll lick your toast
She bathes in butter
Shampoos with cheese
And when she’s dry
She puts on bees
Stuck on with Naplonene
Naplonene
Ah yes, I remember when Bonaparte rode that fancy frame over the Alps cavalry. One of the most brilliant and confusing military maneuvers in history.
Almost as confusing as Washington’s famous Ballerina Defense Plan.
“Higgins, this is what I want you to do. Put on this tutu, the inflatable duck raft, the foam nose, and the penguine flippers.”
“Uh, sir… why am I-”
“Next, I’ll need you to find the largest cumquat in the lower 48 and jam it into your pants. Make sure it’s secure, soldier”
“But I don’t think that-”
“Finally, I’ll need you to sneak over to the enemy encampment and start dancing Walpurgis Night like you’ve never danced before.”
“Sir, I protest. What good will this do?”
“That’s the great thing about being a General, Son. You don’t have to explain your orders. Now do it, it’s an order.”
George Washington’s unconventional military strategy for winning the Battle of MonMouth proved to be effective, though extremely demoralizing to his own forces.
I suppose having George Washington referencing “The Lower 48” breaks the temporal nature of the skit.
The 4th wall, THE 4TH WALL!
Wouldn’t a temporal breaking be the fifth wall?
Breaking the temporal wall probably requires tachyons like a flood, and the resultant deja vu “wake” effects would be disconcerting at best (and would cause you to will be have been sued repeatedly in the future before at worst).
It was a brilliant idea at first, but it’s the sort of idea you can only use once, and that was Bonaparte’s mistake. When the Sixth Coalition tore into France and Boney rode that frame over the escarpment and started pummeling Wellington’s forces, the Prussians came galloping in on their own bigger, more ornate frames armed with tack hammers. Boney freaked right the hell out and took off to Elba.
A lesson for us all.
Where he waited for an illiterate and simple, yet handsome, young man to venture..looking for some help for his ship’s captain.
Alas, the captain died of a ‘brain fever’, but Napoleon managed to get the young man to take a message to a ‘friend’ in France.
Sadly, the young man was caught in the middle of an intrigue he did not understand and incarcerated in Chateau Dif.
His only possession?
A painting of Bonaparte. Sure, it was not an original, but he was a young man of limited means…at the time.
Soon, though…his fortunes changed and he decided to sell the accursed painting on CL.
No shit Sherlock.
No.. Bonaparte.
My thoughts exactly. So glad Sparky cleared that one up. *sigh*
Breaking News: Actor from the Naplonene commercials has been apprehended following a three-state lecturing spree. Authorities say Elbert M. McMethod stopped in at every university and community college he could find, and lectured students on the Walrus Sutra. He even had diagrams, according to one distraught physics undergraduate.
Doctors believe that when the Naplonene wears off, McMethod will have no memory of the incidents, and will need help locating his pants.
Need help locating his pants – no, that isn’t a problem. I know right where my pants are. They’re right between my white socks and sandals and are belted waaaaay up here just below my armpits.
“A good sketch is better than a long speech.” ~ Napoleon Bonaparte
But he says nothing about the fancy frame.
Oh look! They got a copy of my graduation picture! Don’t I look pretty?
I like your hat and swirly cape.
Thank goodness I’m not the only person that regrets what they wore in their senior pics.
OT
In other news, those of us familiar with wordpress, on the Dashboard is a list of search terms people have used that has yeilded the blog as an answer. Mine have, for the most part, been about ticks, mafia, and The Larch. Well, today something completely bat-shit crazy popped up on my search list.
“Design scream battle inflate.”
Uhm… what?
/OT
I’m guessing it was the post with the inflatable parasites and the rubber band hand-gun.
Yes. If you type that phrase into google image search, the very first image is my post’s picture of the inflatable parasites. But the questions is… what the hell does Design Scream Battle Inflate mean?
Sounds like something a group of anthropomorphic animal interior designers would scream before climbing into their inflatable mechas to do battle with the Lint Fiends of Rigel 9.
Wasn’t that one of the special powers that Sailor Moon uses? Or some kind of Pokemon special attack? I don’t know. Anime is not my thing, but it sounds like a special power as filtered through WTF Japan.
Sounds like a Japanese pop band.
Sounds like what Google Translate does to Latin. Eheu.
Ok, [weird name synchronicity corey]
The phrase “alps cavalry” resonates. I worked in an office that had an ALPS ink-diffusion printer. Unlike an inkjet or laser printer, the ALPS could print in white, which is occasionally handy. However, it was an expensive machine, which meant the bosses rode hard on copy count (since that’s how the company was billed for use). But, it also did not much tolerate idleness better than toddlers or lap dogs.
So, we often had to call in the ALPS tech support people before a print run. Well, the service company always had someone who had never worked on an ALPS, so they always sent over anyone who had never worked on one, along with the one who had. So, the front desk started referring to them as “the cavalry” (if pronouncing it “calvary”–a rather different host to visit). Would get to be Pythonesque, with more techs in the office than employees, too.
While an undergraduate, I had a roommate who was an ex-pat Belgian named Napoleon. This was one of those “learning experiences” one has as an undergraduate, where one learns to note when the peak of a co-domiciliary relationship peaked the day before signing a lease. Or that tripartite housing arrangements always mean disputes are 2 on 1. Oh well, end of that semester, we were happy to part ways with our errant Walloon*, he only owing us about $300 en total at that point.
[/corey]
______________________________
*Yes, we called him “wally” which confused some of our compeers for not understanding how ‘wally’ was a diminutive of “Napoleon” at all, to which they were told that William = Guiseppe = Beppe = Bill. If this did not suffice, they were offered shiny objects and beer.
*crash!*
*imprecation in french*
Darryl? Darryl, what is it?
***extended stony silence***
Dar, er, uh Oui mon empereur? Que, no où, er, je votre aide . . . ah, étant, uh esci? Uh, c’est bonne temps?
*gaulic grumbling*
Dar-er, vous er, l’excellence? Mon dieu, is it-grr-n’est pas the Brit-er Angleterres, uh encore?
Non! Une fois de plus, il est toujours condamné cette Poméranie Alps printer, il peut mars à Moscou en hiver! C’est que la faute damnable autrichien nouveau – comment suis-je pour faire tomber des tirages de mes glorieuse victoire sur les calvinistes alpin avec aucune tapettes printer? Merde!
Well, perhaps a heavy frame will help . . .
Forniquer la Frame putain! Il a un surnom peu dedans! Qui, sans aucun doute, certains se plaindre italienne va se transformer en misère deux heures de l’opéra que même Joseph et ses Espagnols ne pouvaient supporter!
Moron cousin de Joséphine, mettre tout votre argent dans moutons volants – AVIONS mouton, ouais, ça va envoyer le rôti de boeuf Retour à Cornwall. . . pas un sou pour le prouver. . . devrait avoir décapité les parents lorsque j’ai eu la chance. . .
Well, there’s always Craigslist . . .
**stares**
Captain, what language don’t you speak?
Nothing Balkan; not much good in Adriatic or Mediterranean for that matter–other than I can tell the difference between Greek and Cypriot. Pretty much useless in Africa, too; unless very rude Afrikaans is needed.
Pretty useless over most of Asia, too–if having some tiny ability to sort out some of the languages by their script, others by sound. I can hear the difference in Cantonese and Mandarin; still only know about 13, 14 words of either, combined (can’t read the difference in characters; not that know any by sight). Not bad in spoken Japanese; hopeless for reading it, though.
Latin gets me “by” in far too many of the Romance languages–and renders my conversations into moronic ecclesiastical cant. German covers some of the rest of Europe, and is my longest, formally-studied language–even if in conversations I sound like a person with both dementia and Tourette’s. I’m frighteningly literate in Spanglish, and in cooking/restaurant French–both of which make for odd conversations.
Oh, and if you play enough solitaire with Russian phrase-book teaching cards, you can pick up a surprising amount of vocabulary, if under-useful in common conversation. “No smoking, your tank is contaminated” [Ne kurit! Vash tahk zhesto kogo!] not being over-useful. Unless one is addressing Sir William’s pocket-full of eels. At least, I think that’s what it says in the Magyar-British dictionary.
Now, being 4th generation Navy, curse words; imprecations; invective; expletives; profanity; vulgarity, et al–oh my, that’s beyond calculating.
Just don’t ask me to hang it. I already ended up accidentally shoving a screwdriver through my finger (the pointy end in through the middle, out the side) while trying to put up new curtain rods.
OUCH
Wow! Sending you a virtual tourniquet. Hope you didn’t bleed on the curtains. 8)
Nope, the curtains were just fine! Can’t say the same about my finger, but it will heal.
You could start a fad for pierced finger jewelry. 8) Hope you heal soon.
You scared me for a second there! I was picturing the screw going in one side perpendicular to the finger and coming out on the other side. Glad it doesn’t look as bad as I had imagined it!
Owie.
Grampdaddy, I found your cane! Punchity Punch Punch!
G’Night, Corsica!
That picture looks vaguely familiar. Wasn’t it featured in one of the other YSaC posts? Don’t tell me someone actually bought something off of one of the numerous Sparkies features on this site!
… figures it’s another Sparky, though.
A year later, and now I can offer a huge collection of feathers, a chewed-up paper towel tube, and a mostly used cuttle bone. Oh, and this bag from the freezer that says El Pollo Loco, but isn’t chicken.
I’ve cleaned the rat cages out this afternoon – Sparky can have the binbag, it’s only about half full.
I offer this advice as someone with experience. Whenever you cross anything in a frame, make sure the frame is either fancy or extra fancy. Standard frames tend to chafe.
The exceptions are when you cross word, cross the streams (never cross the streams), and cross dress.
“willing to accept any offer”
I offer you this advice.
Learn to spell Nappoline… Nippleon..Nipolian…Knanap…Nopolit…Neopilian…Napolitan…
Awww! Just keep your fancy old painting in its fancy old frame! It aint no original nohow!
I don’t like Naplonene.
In fact, I don’t like anyone who likes Naplonene.
In fact, I don’t like anyone who likes anyone who likes Naplonene.
(not an original)
This comment has been modified from its original version. It has been formatted to fit this post.
This comment, however, has been modified to NOT fit this po
What color was Napoleon’s white horse?
A: Grey
Hey! Like, I know that guy. Didn’t he invent dynamite or some junk?
“And a little nick in the corner”
Hi, Little Nick!
This will go well on my French Preventional Credenza
Preventing French Credentials. Did Napoleon port his army through a pass without a passport?
Or was that Hannibal?
The painting within the picture is askew, cockeyed if you will. As cockeyed as the poster, who is not a picture of a painting. The poster has not drawn on the resources available to learn the techniques of photographing paintings which are not askew, uncockeyed if you will.
Of Sparky’s painting,
I will draw my conclusion.
Naplonene it’s not.
wanda and CapnMac, you have served your time in the box and are free to go as reformed citizens of the Snark Lounge. Punchity Punch Punch.
Good Morning, Corsica!
Very large? We all know Napoleon was very small….
[/corey] well at least only 5’4″ which was small in urban France, but actually he was right at the average for rural France and Corsica[\corey]