Random Thursday: Rock, Paper, Scissors, Lizard, Rat on a Skateboard

Random Thursday (ˈrandəm ˈTHərzdā): the day on which Sarah plunks down all the odd bits and pieces she’s been sent by friends or has otherwise stumbled upon this week in an effort to avoid writing a real post, the assembly of which usually ends up taking twice as much time as sitting down and creating actual content.

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Or a Giant Squid

Please note: the above strategy doesn’t work on Real People™,
who tend to accuse Atomic Physicist Mimes of cheating.

Phooey.

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Catitecture!

Ruan Hao of LYCS Architecture made a table that keeps your cat entertained,
so you can USE the top of the table for HUMAN PURPOSES* without furry interference.

Genius!

Also probably works with Chihuahuas and  ferrets, and possibly small amphibians, too,
though you’ll want to watch that finish.

(Via my husband, who apparently does read this blog . . . who knew?)

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Rock, Paper, Scissors, Lizard, Spock

I know it’s old.  Hush.

This works great . . . unless you’re the type of person who can understand the rules on the first try.

(via Siobhan—I remember this!)

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Quick!  Call Mr. Nimoy!

Or Mr. Quinto, fine—is this really the time for that argument?

(via Watson, who is still with us in spirit)

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It’s Simple . . . Not

Apparently, in Real Life™, Rock, Paper, Scissors, Lizard, Spock is harder to explain that in the above clip.

A few of Jim Parsons’ many failed attempts show up on the show’s blooper reel for the second season.

He has a theory about this:

Maybe he should have tried an atomic mushroom cloud?

(via Robin, who loves blooper reels as much as I do)

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Random Rat on a Skateboard

For Mike Allegra.  

He knows why.

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Rock, Paper, Deus ex Machina

At this point, you might as well go back to tossing coins . . .

I’m so tempted to send this to the writers of the Big Bang Theory.

The blooper reel would be epic.

(Don’t know where this one came from—if you sent it to me, let me know)

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Paper beats Paper

As in, $50,000 oblong, green pieces of it.

Behold the 2006 Rock Paper Scissors World Championship.

For real:

The announcers are determined to earn their paychecks, too, bless ’em.

(From Chris, who has been hanging around Kev too long)

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*Disclaimer:  please note that this blog cannot be held responsible for any Human Purposes that might overwhelm the structural integrity, tensile strength, or general hygienic properties of the table—or the stress threshold of the average cat.   Purpose responsibly, y’all.

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Sheldon® is the brainchild of the brilliant and (so far) non-litigious Dave Kellet, who is one of the coolest people ever to send his brainchild into the Interwebz.  Go look.

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Random Thursday: Libraries, cellos, and a very big bang

Tuesday was the twelfth anniversary of my hire date at my present library, which means I’ve been a professional librarian for fourteen years and a month.

That’s a third of my life.

No regrets yet, though if I’d been given the option of independent wealth, I might have been tempted.

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As a child, my number one best friend was the librarian in my grade school. I actually believed all those books belonged to her.*

—Erma Bombeck

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 It all started with an innocent (probably) question:

“Hey, honey?” asked my husband.  “Have you ever visited Fontspace.com?”

 

 

 

 

 Well, I have now, thanks . . . 

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 Libraries are absolutely at the center of my life. Since I couldn’t afford to go to college, I attended the library three or four days a week from the age of eighteen on, and graduated from the library when I was twenty-eight.

—Ray Bradbury

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Why didn’t anyone tell me The Big Bang Theory  was so funny?

Was it the time suck?  Because giving me a heads up right after the pilot would have meant losing 30 minutes a week, instead of the hours and hours I’m going to lose catching up on four and a half seasons.

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The first time I walked into a library, I got so excited I almost wet my pants.**

—Roy Blount Jr.

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Janie has decided she wants to learn how to play the cello for her school’s Lower School string ensemble.

Why not the flute?  Or the violin?  We’ve got a couple of those shoved in the back of the closet.  Her hands are too small for the bassoon under the bed, but so are mine and we got along all right.

But she’s been experimenting in music class and she loves it.  I blame all that Apocalyptica I’ve been playing on our commutes.

We’ve compromised on one semester—she has to practice at least fifteen minutes on piano and cello, and if she can’t keep up with her homework, too,  then she’ll have to wait a bit.

My husband isn’t sure—and my MIL really isn’t sure—but the rental fees for the kid-sized instrument aren’t that much, we received a school fee rebate that will more than cover the cost of the lessons, and an ensemble might teach Jane more about working as a team.

Plus, when I asked her why she wanted to add an instrument, she said, “Because I like music.  I’m just like you.”

Sniff.  Good one, kiddo.

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Reading makes immigrants of us all. It takes us away from home, but more important, it finds homes for us everywhere.

—Hazel Rochman

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*They did.  All library books belong to their librarians, in loco parentis, heavy on the loco.  We choose them, we care for them, we tape up their boo-boos, and we preside tearfully over their passing (and exact revenge, when necessary).

**Cool.  So did Sunny.