Too Lazy to Fail

Image from some 4chan link someone sent me. Poster by me. Click to enlarge.

Enzyte Scammer Gets 25 Years for Fraud

If customers complained, he said, employees were instructed to “make it as difficult as possible” for them to get their money back. In some cases, Teegarden said, Warshak required customers to produce a notarized statement from a doctor certifying Enzyte did not work.

“He said it was extremely unlikely someone would get anything notarized saying they had a small penis,” Teegarden said.

Ouch.

From a random person in my corporation in Eve Online:

I [Heart Heart Heart] Polygamy

I mean, there are a lot of critics of the Memphis PD, and I’m often one of them, but where did you find this?

Remember what mom said, about cola making your teeth fall out? Yeah. Worse.

Sorry if you’ve emailed/commented and I haven’t gotten back to you. I left on July 5th for Guatemala, returned yesterday, and didn’t want to advertise that I was going to be out of the country.

There’s not a whole lot that’s blogworthy from the trip, but PDB said that this exchange should go in:

(Paul enters the TSA security checkpoint in Atlanta after going through immigration and customs. He has his hair buzzed at about 8mm, and is wearing cargo pants, an ash-colored T-shirt, and a nasty-looking sunburn that is still healing and peeling a week after it was inflicted. Well-versed in the security fashion show by now, he places his laptop in one bin, his tan 5.11 clearance sale boots into another bin, and his Blackhawk backpack behind them, sliding the stack down the rollers to the older gentleman manning the machine.)

TSA Agent: What branch you in, son?

Paul: Oh, I’m not in the service.

TSA (Now with massive grin): Ah, you one of them contractors, then!

(At this point I thought of using Tamara’s “No, sir, I’m a tactical poser.” line, but I thought of something better.)

Paul: No, sir. I’m a church secretary.

(Edited to add…)

BONUS!

(The team is making the final approach to land in Memphis. Paul looks out over the city.)

Paul: Yep, it’s Memphis alright. I can see the muzzle flashes from here!

As pdb pointed out, the success of this venture is dependent on the victim not tipping the soda before removing the cap. Also, most folks would not open or drink a 20oz soda after noticing that the seal had been broken. Perhaps one could mitigate both of these downsides by using a 2L bottle only partially filled instead?

Another favorite soda-bottle destructive device that was popular at school was the Coke Bottle Bomb, which involved placing a handful of balled up aluminium foil (about the size of peas) into a 20oz soda bottle, then filling the bottle half-full with “The Works” toilet bowl cleaner (available at the Dollar Tree) and closing the cap tightly. Explosion occurs without warning three to seven minutes after mixture, and leaves a glorius green goo all over everything. The explosion is powerful enough to knock out nearby glass, so don’t set it on a window ledge.

From Penny Arcade:

It is impossible for me to save money by changing my own oil. A local dealership will do it for $12.95, which is about what it costs me to buy 5 quarts of oil and a filter.

However, I can (at least in theory) do it myself in half an hour or less, in the comfort of my own driveway, without having to drive to the dealership and then sit for two hours while my car progresses through the queue of vehicles. I can also make sure things are done correctly: a friend recently had a Wal-Mart greasemonkey leave the oil cap off of her car when finishing up, nearly killing the engine. On multiple occassions in high school I had Jiffy Lube guys short my car by two quarts.

Also, if I do things myself I can rotate my own tires in about 10 minutes with no expense, and save between $8 and $15, depending on the shop.

Finally, it’s a good excuse to get in and under the engine of my car, looking for leaks and worn belts. It’s never a bad thing to have a clear understanding of the state of your vehicle.

I had not changed the oil in any car since I had last lived at a place that would permit it, several years ago. I had never done the deed to a Taurus/Sable, either, though I have done just about everything else that can be done by an amatuer to my Sable, usually out of financial desperation and with a frightened eye toward the repair manual. I figured that, not being familiar with the task, it would take me longer than I might expect it to regularly.

So uh, do you know anyone who has given themselves an electric shock while changing their oil? Now you do. Apparently there are exposed electrical contacts about two inches below the base of the oil filter in 97-2001 Taurus/Sable sedans. Who knew? That, combined with a purpose-bought metal wrench not having room to be applied correctly, resulted in fire moving up my right arm, a shower of sparks, acrid smoke, and oil pouring from the still-attached used oil filter.

I was terribly afraid that I had done damage to the electrical system of my car. A quick trip to the auto parts place in my wife’s car, and I returned with the rubber strap wrench that I would have bought in the first place had I not had a fascination with the unique movement of the metal shock-wrench.

Maybe next time it will be a bit less traumatic. I swore at several points that it wasn’t worth it, and that I’d never do it myself again, but hey, it’s worth at least one more shot, because I already bought the oil.

Here’s a close-up of the hole blown in the filter, presumably heated by the electricity running between it and the contacts through the wrench:

Be careful out there, people.

…especially an unexpected dull evening, with the Emergency Party Button.

There is no state in the Union for which the answers to the questions couldn’t be supplied by a marginally interested third grade student who didn’t take notes.

Thing is, you already know the answers to the questions that will REALLY influence the outcome of your permit application:

• Are you wealthy enough to be a campaign donor to a major state or city politician? [Yes] [No]
• Are you a celebrity, ranking “B List” or above? [Yes] [No]
• Are you related to anyone in management at your sheriff’s office? [Yes] [No]
• Out of the people in this room, are you the only one professional enough? [Yes] [*BANG*]

By the way, you’re a bad person for wanting to cheat, even if nobody should have to take a test to carry a gun in the first place.

Paul is walking down the street. It’s a beautiful day, and it’s more fun to be outside than on the treadmill. Besides, not as many cats attack his legs when he walks outside.

Paul: Oh look, a pile of crap out by the curb, with a stereo receiver on top! Hey, this thing is a new-looking 5.1 cheapo-brand version!

Paul picks up the receiver and puts it under an arm. It’s .8 miles back home, but it won’t hurt him to carry it. After all, he’s out for exercise.  He roots through the box underneath, finding only a couple of old plates and some adult magazines. Suddenly, he hears a door slam!

Lady from house: You can’t take things off of mah properteh!

Paul: Oh, I’m so sorry! Were you not throwing this stuff away?

Lady: Yeah, but you can’t take it off mah properteh!

Paul: Well, if I don’t take it, the trash man will when he comes by tomorrow. Would you take a dollar for it?

Feeling annoyed but not wanting to start anything, Paul sets the receiver down and gets out his wallet.

Lady: Fine! Screw it!

The door slams. The lady is gone. Paul schleps the receiver home, and finds that it powers up, clicks, then immediately shuts off. Paul still wonders what is wrong with it, but knows it can’t be too serious.

Originally found at Tam’s, then at icanhascheezburger.