Millicent's pumpkin pie has a radius of 4.15 inches and a depth of 1.8 inches. Assuming the pie is cut into eight wedges, how many spoonfuls of real whipped cream topping will Millicent eat before she remembers she is lactose intolerant?
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I've been tagged by Jamie, and am therefore duty-bound to complete a meme. :)
Here are the rules she posted.
See? I have to pick up the nearest book, turn to page 46, find the fifth sentence on that page, and then type out the next few sentences.
The problem is, it will probably bore you to death.
Consider it my contribution to helping all you insomniacs out there.
Plus, I promise if you make it to the end of the post, I'll add a picture of a lady wearing a cat costume, walking over some bottles on her tiptoes.
Deal?
Ok.
The book is The Trail Of Tears, by Gloria Jahoda. It's about the history of the United States' dealings with the Native American Indian tribes, and how the tribes basically got screwed over. Since I'm part Native American myself, the book interests me on a personal level, plus it's a fascinating look into history.
Page 46, starting with sentence five:
As he stood in the House to present his case, he was aware he had a national audience the size of which was bound to secure him immortality. Mr. Lumpkin pointed out the legal chaos in Georgia which had resulted from the self-declared existence of the Cherokee nation: "Why, sir, the United States law prohibits peddling in the nation, or selling merchandise at any other than the place designated by the agent, and annexes its fines and forfeitures for a violation of the law. The Cherokee law authorizes any citizen to peddle or trade where they please...."
And now, as per our deal, here....
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In much the same way that a tiny fart can fill an entire elevator, your comments fill my heart.
(I swear that sounded like a compliment before I actually typed it out).
So, for today, I'd just like to say how thankful I am for all of you, my readers and commenters and stalkers and friends and anyone else out there who's enjoyed spending time in the Jannaverse.
If I could give you all a free turkey, I would.
You can pretend I did, though, by taking a nice long nap and telling everyone that all the free tryptophan really knocked you out.
Have a lovely day.
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Is it just me, or has Blogger changed their anti-spam words to be more readable lately?
Back in the old days, you'd see freaky stuff like "zxyxqqpq" and "yyiivyxv". Stuff that was annoying to even look at, let alone type.
But I swear, lately they look more like actual words. They're NOT, but they look like they could easily pass, if they had a mustache and a fake ID.
It's (almost) enough to make me want to put that option back in the comments section, just so you could all let me know what your anti-spam words are.
Almost.
Here are some actual anti-spam "words" I've gotten from Blogger blogs lately.
I've taken the liberty of making up my own definitions for them.
OVENCER (It's an oven AND a mincer, all in one! NOW how much would you pay?)
HYPTOR (Sounds like a comic book villain who can hypnotize people... and he's watching you right now.)
PHICKSH (Like a really bad speller tried writing the word "fiction" and gave up halfway through)
HERSHAB (But what about HIS shab?)
LOWCHOON (After many years of failed relationships with High Choons, Marjorie decided to try a change of pace.)
THUDICC (The sound of someone falling and having hiccups at the same time)
PRECLAD (Before you are clad, you are pre-clad. Which apparently must be the same thing as naked.)
PHYTR (I M a phytr. I phite reel gud but I kant spel vary welll.)
PLOSEST (P looked everywhere, but just couldn't find T...)
RESSEL (It's "lesser" spelled backwards, so does that make it greater?)
ENNARAPS (No, really! She does! A few years ago she made a CD with Snoop Doggy Dogg...)
CONST (What happens when someone with ADD tries making a sign for construction zones)
ILTRI (I cnt spel vry wel but il tri)
INESSE (After many long negotiations, the letter "F" decided to leave the word "finesse", choosing instead to accept employment contracts with the words "Fermentation" and "Flatulence".
FLESUS (The savior of fleas)
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I almost skipped Manic Monday this week, because I couldn't think of anything to write about for the "Harvest" theme. It just didn't inspire me.
The only non-boring thing I could think of was harvesting bodily organs.
Y'know how some people choose to donate their bodies to science? Some donate their organs to those who need transplants (or a nifty new piece of art for the coffee table).
With that in mind, I've considered donating my body to the blogosphere.
Who wants what?
1. Someone out there can have my spleen. Hopefully you'll have better luck figuring out what it does. I'm still not sure.
2. Whoever gets my kidneys, please be advised that they have a lot of practice filtering out tea. Back in the old days, they filtered out a lot of Mountain Dew also.
3. Be forewarned that my bladder will hate you if you drink a whole liter of water all at once. (Two words: DON'T SNEEZE.)
4. My appendix still seems to be as good as new. Please don't screw it up, ok?
5. My heart has been broken way too many times to be of much use for anything. If you tried using it for a vase, all the cracks would probably make everything leak out onto your nice new coffee table.
6. Whoever gets my brain, don't worry. The voices usually don't tell you to do much, other than write music, eat chocolate, and do strange blog posts.
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Note: Please wait until I'm actually dead before you start harvesting my organs.
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.My friends know I'm hopelessly in love with fountain pens, even though I can't afford to buy them.
I love to just surf for pen sites and drool longingly at the pictures.
Sometimes I get catalogs in the mail with fountain pens in them.
Morgen calls this my "pen porn".
Well, here's a site called "Pen Island".
Except the URL makes it look more like "Penis Land".
http://www.penisland.net/
Read the description they gave:
It's been awhile since I've posted a list of past Twitters, so here you go.
Grab a refreshing beverage and put your feet up.
Or down.
Or wherever you've always dreamed of putting your feet.
I promise not to judge.
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Eating orange sherbet, listening to NPR, and wearing purple. 07:31 PM July 25, 2008
I wish armpit sweat smelled like lemonade. 07:52 PM July 25, 2008
They replaced one of my favorite NPR shows with some annoying sports crap! I hate sports. Hey, guys, guess where you can stick that bat? 03:33 PM July 26, 2008
Sitting next to the river, drinking tea, eating cookies, and writing with a fountain pen. Feeling semi-peaceful. 06:30 PM July 26, 2008
Wearing a shirt but no pants. Do I have to explain? 05:01 PM July 27, 2008
The smell of cat poop is not conducive to inner peace. 12:54 AM July 28, 2008
Life is like a pine tree. Or maybe a used shoe. I haven't quite decided yet. 04:18 PM July 29, 2008
Annoyed at politics. Tell me when it's over. 07:07 PM July 30, 2008
In traffic, stopped and waiting in a construction zone. La la la la la. Sigh. Waiting waiting waiting... Waiting... 01:43 PM July 31, 2008
Confused and dizzy-headed. My eyes feel like pickled olives. What's sad is that I am completely sober. 04:27 AM August 02, 2008
Listening to the BBC, wondering what you're wearing, and thinking of garlic bread. 12:52 AM August 03, 2008
Driving, listening to the radio, drinking tea, and realizing I need a shower. 08:22 PM August 03, 2008
My "nap" ended up being 19 hours. I had to get up to pee three times. 19 hours. Does this mean I'm getting old??? 01:16 PM August 07, 2008
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I look forward to the day when I can annoy young people by telling them how easy they have it these days. I've heard all the old stereotypes of grandparents who had to walk ten miles to school, in four feet of snow, uphill (both ways), wearing nothing but a burlap sack.
This inspired me to create some sayings of my own.
So now I'm all ready for the day when I am a bitter old woman surrounded by ungrateful little rugrats.
(So far I'm doing pretty well on the "bitter" part. Hooray for goals!)
Anyway, here are some of the things I plan to say:
1) It's halfway through November, and I still haven't seen any accumulation of snow on the ground. This depresses me. I like snow.
2) If any of you have a spare USB cable for my printer, please beam it over to me. I'll send you some cat hair if you want.
3) Thursday evening I learned that if you have onion rings for lunch AND bean tostadas for supper, the results are quite spectacular. Next week I plan to try broccoli salad along with a dish of baked beans. I'll try to remember to report the results, if I haven't completely gassed myself out of existence by then.
4) While driving through town today, I saw three Amish guys walking into a McDonald's. There was a fourth guy with them, who apparently drove them there. I wonder what they ordered....
5) If the speed of light is so fast, why does it take traffic lights forever to change?
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How many of you had "Show And Tell" when you were in school?
I did, though I don't remember any of the stuff I showed or told about.
I'm sure I wasn't anywhere near as cool as this kid who brought a dead bat to Show And Tell.
Yes! A dead bat! And everyone petted it...
And of course it turned out that the bat had rabies.
And everyone who touched it had to get shots.
Oops.
There should be Show And Tell for adults too.
We could all meet in a parking lot somewhere, or just take turns meeting in each other's living rooms. Hopefully somebody would bring snacks.
I could show you all that I actually cleaned out the front seat of my car last week. Really! Me! The chick with the uber-messy car! I cleaned out the front half, and vacuumed the floors and seats and everything! I can actually have a passenger now (!!!).
I vacuumed the trunk, too, so I could also fit a few people in there, if needed.
The back seat, of course, still looks like a mini tornado went through, but hey. I never claimed to be perfect.
If we had Show And Tell for grownups, what kinds of stuff would YOU share?
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(P.S. I am not claiming to actually be a grown-up. I have, however, done my best to blend in with them, much like a rabid bat blends in with its non-diseased brethren.)
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Wednesday night I had a bowl of chili for dinner.
Specifically, Campbell's Chunky "Firehouse" chili.
With a name like "Firehouse," I had hoped it would be hot.
I would like to state, for the record, that it is so wussily mild you could probably smear it on all your mucus membranes and not feel a thing.
Along with them, I tried Fritos "Spicy Jalapeno" corn chips.
I can sum those up in one word: Blah.
I guess if I want a bowl of chili that really qualifies as "HOT", I have to make it myself.
And I will, just as soon as the Hazardous Waste permits come in.
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Despite the stereotype of cats happily drinking a saucer of milk, some cats are actually lactose intolerant.
My cats would gladly tell you the whole sordid tale, if they weren't all busy licking their butts clean.
I have therefore learned that from now on, their only beverage will be water.
Rather than delve into the whole ugly story and all its accompanying sights, sounds, and smells, I will just say this: cat diarrhea is very sloppy indeed.
Thank god for clumping kitty litter.
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Things the letters BOUNTY could stand for:
1. Burned Out... Utilizing New Technology Yearly
2. Barn Owls Usually Never Translate Yiddish
3. Body Odor Universally? No Thank You!
4. Burnt Ostrich, Unfortunately, Never Tastes Yummy
5. Bless Our Usual Nightly Taco Yearnings
6. Bellowing Out Unsightly Nervous Twitches = Yodeling!
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If you're in the mood for a different sort of post, feel free to head on over to Jantics, where you can tell me what I should call my new (imaginary) restaurant.
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Then, of course, there's always my Jantrails post, where I hope I don't get hunted down by a bloodthirsty posse. At least not for anything embarrassing.
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Over the next few hours, I'll be catching up on answering any blog comments I may have missed.
Then I'll begin the somewhat pathetic weekly task of trying to figure out what to do on my Friday evening.
I have these visions of everyone else on the planet (construction workers, cannibals, missionaries, dishwasher repairmen, squirrels, libertarians) having such huge amounts of fun on Friday nights. I envision them partying and dancing and dating and having expensive dinners and laughing at hamsters and all kinds of stuff.
It goes without saying that I feel sort of left out sometimes.
So, I felt the need to come up with my own list of...
Yay to all of you who voted on whether I should wear green or pink today.
As of 10:30 Thursday night, the tally was as follows:
Green: 8
Pink: 2
Both: 3
Either: 1
So, it looks like I'll be wearing green today.
Thanks for participating in the democratic process.
Pretend you're all wearing stickers that say "I voted on the Jannaverse".
Just to go above and beyond the call of duty, I'm drinking a bunch of green tea right now so I can spend most of the day peeing and thinking of all of you.
That's dedication.
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You know how much I love hot spicy stuff, right?
Today I'll be trying Planters "Wicked Hot Chipotle" peanuts.
I'm about to try them for the first time, and will blog about my reaction immediately afterward.
Everybody ready? Here goes...
(**munch munch munch**)
Eh. They're ok. They're not mild, but neither are they super hot (unfortunately).
On a scale of 1 to 10, (with one being wussy mild salsa and ten being "too damn hot"), this would be maybe a five at the very most. (Note: I'm not sure I've ever tasted a ten... maybe once).
I wouldn't call them "Wicked Hot." Not even "Slightly Naughty" hot. Maybe "Just ran a stop sign but now I already feel bad about it" kind of hot.
Here's the review from The Smoky Chipotle. They're described as something the "mainstream" (*cough**wusses**cough*) might consider "nice and hot", but something the true Chili-Head would probably just consider to be a slightly warm improvement over plain salted peanuts.
I agree!
And, by the way, I love this list. I can identify with a lot of it. I've definitely done #104... (and apparently #29 and 126 as well, depending on who you ask).
I suspect #212 every time I do one of these posts. :)
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1. If brownies could sneeze, would the snot look like hot fudge?
2. What color should I wear on Friday: Pink or Green? Cast your vote in the comments.
3. If you had an embarrassing itch, would you scratch it in public if you thought no one else was watching?
4. Is it wrong that I'm craving brownies with hot fudge now?
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Today's Manic Monday theme is "Colorful".
Since I can't think of anything to say, I'm posting some colorful pictures instead. 
The colorful sweater one is me when I was maybe 4 or 5 years old. That was back when candy bars were only 20 cents, and gas was less than 75 cents a gallon.
I had no idea what "dietary fiber" was, nor did I have any clue that it might become important in the next third-of-a-century.
I'd never scooped any cat poop yet, McDonalds cherry pies were deep-fried, and the Internet (as we know it) didn't even exist.
Neither did cell phones.
Then I became old...
Ok, ok, I became a person in my 30's.
Soon to be 40's.
I now occasionally eat multi-grain crackers, low-fat milk, and shredded wheat with bran.
I've scooped more cat turds than I care to remember.
My heart has been broken so many times I've built a little fortress around it. But don't worry; the fortress is made of 100% recycled materials and is completely biodegradable.
I try to keep the mildew to an absolute minimum.
I have learned about hellish things like bureaucracy, disease, politics, and being put on hold for an hour while desperately waiting for a customer service representative who actually understands what I'm talking about.
On the bright side, I still think farts are funny.
Surely that's worth something.
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This week I wrote a brass quintet (3 Trumpets, 2 F-horns). I'm hoping we get to try it next Tuesday at band. In the process, I discovered that for some reason my music notation software crashes every time I try to insert text onto the page.
How strange. It's never done this before in all the years I've had it. What happened?
I don't know what the problem is, other than the usual suspicions of interdimensional beings throwing invisible pieces of silverware into the hard drive. They do that whenever they get bored. Whenever I visit their home dimension I do the same thing to them.
They're convinced I started it-- But really, with time travel these days, who can be sure of who started what anymore?
Where was I?
Oh, yes. My music software crashes whenever I try adding text. Because of this odd glitch, I'm unable to add a title to the music. I'm also unable to add the name of the instrumental parts (e.g. Trumpet 1, Trumpet 2, etc). So it just looks like nine pages of music notes.
I know there are better notation programs out there (Finale and Sibelius, for example), but I have no idea how to use them, and I certainly can't even come close to affording them.
So unless I can figure out why the software suddenly decided to start crashing after all these years, I'm going to have to write all the words by hand.
Hopefully people will see it as some version of being charmingly eccentric ("How quaint! She probably believes in interdimensional beings too! Look, is that a spork in her hard drive?")
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I haven't bored you with any Janku recently, so today's the day. (Hey! Stop groaning!)
As you may remember, Janku is my version of haiku-type poetry, except it relies on vowels (4-6-8) instead of syllables (5-7-5). The first line has four vowels, the second line has six vowels, and the last line has eight vowels. "Y" doesn't count as a vowel here.
Instead of stereotypically "beautiful" themes, I try to lean toward topics that are strange or unconventional. It's supposed to be silly.
For some reason, these posts always get relatively few comments. This surprises me, but I'm going to keep posting the occasional Janku anyway. Part of that whole "Staying true to myself" kinda crap. You understand.
