Assorted Thoughts 44: Cannot Think Of Ideas For Lists To Save My Life Edition

• I feel that along with playing devil's advocate, it's sometimes worth playing dumbass's advocate.  I think it is one of the few ways to really understand the Republican electorate.
• From the "I'm Really Not A Serial Killer, I Promise" files: when it comes to souvenirs from travels, I'm much more excited by interesting dead things than I am by pretty postcards.
• I judge people who post about psychology papers they've read.  PSYCHOLOGY IS NOT A SCIENCE.
• Things you learn while stuck waiting at a railroad crossing: the iPhone's Siri is "not much of a storyteller" and "doesn't know many good jokes. None, in fact." I am not making this up.
• A lab mate recently told me that when I come in to the lab in the morning, I look like I've just crawled out of a laundry hamper.  That's sadly a pretty apt description of my general state of being, though I prefer the term "artfully disheveled."
• Or I suppose "permanently rumpled."
• There's really nothing like driving (or worse, walking) through the bar scene downtown on Friday night to give you some empathy for the temperance crusaders.
• My new excuse for being bad at socialization will be to tell people that my lack of social skills is the result of being raised by a pack of computers.
• Design decisions I question: building a bathroom with an automatic faucet, automatic urinal, and manual-flush toilet.
• My recipe for a Ph.D. prospectus:
• 2 parts interest
• 1 part nothing better to do
• 3 parts hopes and dreams
• 4 parts frustration
• Mix together, adding anguish to taste.  If not bitter enough, add alcohol as needed.  Have a bottle of social life nearby, but do not add to mixture.  Spread lightly on a Word document, allow to congeal for approximately 3 years. Serves very few.
  

Assorted Thoughts 43: I'm Definitely Kicking Myself For Missing A Meaning Of Life Joke Opportunity With Edition 42 Edition

• If you look through the recent uploads to Photobucket, you'll see a surprisingly high proportion of them are baby pictures.  I wonder if this is just the logical conclusion to the MySpace era of posting self-pictures in varying states of undress.
• As a corollary to that, if you're posting baby pictures on Photobucket, I don't think you get to have that kid anymore.  That's not where you post real-person pictures.
• Q: What do you call the section of hell reserved for foot fetishists?  A: The Shire.
• It's just a problem when the foot fetishists are also furries.
• A site to scar even the most hardened hacker: leetspin.
• There are very few articles of clothing more likely to cause me to judge you than an "anime freak" t-shirt.
• I saw an entry in a gas station condom dispenser for "assorted novelties." Problem was, it was branded Pandora's Box, and knowing what I do of Greek mythology, that is not a good thing. 
• Fun game: name of firework or name of sex toy?
• There really aren't many sights and sounds more disturbing than flashing lights and blaring sirens at the tank farm next door to wherever you are currently standing. 
• For some reason, the TV in the university counseling center waiting room when I was there recently was on the Christian Broadcasting Network. Hearing Pat Robertson talk about porn is not an experience anyone should have to live through. 
• You know it's been a long night at the office when you get in the car to go home to grab a few hours of sleep and NPR's Morning Edition is on the radio.