Spiders Are Big Fat Liars

I kill spiders when I see them.

I don't care if there are twenty million spiders behind the walls, or under the stairs, or wherever. As long as they don't come into my normal line of sight, they leave me alone, and I leave them alone.

Those are the terms of the treaty between us.

But unfortunately, some of the spiders are stupid. Or, perhaps they're just lying little sacks of poo, because they disregard the treaty, and wander into my path. When this happens, I have no choice: They have to die.

The cats are with me on this.

If they HAVE to invade unfriendly territory, the wiser move would be to attack en masse. Twenty million spiders all after you at once? They could do it! They just don't work together well.

That's probably for the best, though.

Feed Lindsay T-Shirts

The Original FeedLindsay.com!



Yeah.... Lindsey Lohan's probably too skinny.

Yeah... I probably need to get a real job.

Dying Won't Get You Out of Exercising

Perceived Exertion Scale - Exercise

The evil gummint has decided that we should exercise an entire hour a day, on the level of brisk walking or thereabouts. How the...? I went into programming for a living for a REASON, gummint, and the reason is that I do not WANT to exercise. I like to use my butt for its intended purpose, which is sitting, and also storing Entenmann's pastry products. Wait... that doesn't sound right. I mean as fat. You know, you eats the food, your butt gets fat... You know what I mean, right?

ANYway, I wondered about this target heart range thing. And I discovered that About.com is a helpful site to learn, you know, ABOUT stuff. If you have broadband. Because otherwise, loading a page that's fifty percent links to other stuff and twenty percent advertising? Is annoying.

But still, it does have information, even if it's only generally two paragraphs.

Take the Perceived Exertion Scale. This is a handy scale to use for exercising, to know when you're in the right range, somewhere between not exercising and making your heart asplode. Here, let me steal it wholesale for you! THAT'S how much I love you! I want you to have the tools to sense when death is coming! What blogs will go so far to protect your interests like that? Not many. Moveon.org? Doesn't care about you like I do. Slashdot? No sirree! Those techie geeks won't look at you unless you have blinking LEDs. Okay, I think I'm babbling. (THAT'S how much I love you!)


When exercising, you should monitor your intensity to make sure you're not working too hard. One way to do this is by using a Perceived Exertion Scale. For most workouts, you should stay somewhere between Level 5 and Level 6. For high intensity interval workouts, your recovery should be around Level 4 or 5, and your intense interval should not go above 9. For longer, slower workouts, keep your PE at Level 5 or lower.

• Level 1: I'm watching TV and eating bon bons
  
• Level 2: I'm comfortable and could maintain this pace all day long
  
• Level 3: I'm still comfortable, but am breathing a bit harder
  
• Level 4: I'm sweating a little, but feel good and can carry on a conversation effortlessly
  
• Level 5: I'm just above comfortable, am sweating more and can still talk easily
  
• Level 6: I can still talk, but am slightly breathless
  
• Level 7: I can still talk, but I don't really want to. I'm sweating like a pig
  
• Level 8: I can grunt in response to your questions and can only keep this pace for a short time period.
  
• Level 9: I am probably going to die.
  
• Level 10: I am dead.

Just for the record, though, I don't actually love you, you know, that way. I wouldn't stab you with a rake or anything. But, you know, let's just be friends. But I still love you!

Yay! I Winned a Award!

FreedomSight

Hey! I won an award! Well... Not an actual award. But I got a mention in FreedomSight, which is a pretty interesting political blog. There's no About section, so I couldn't, uh, read the About. But it's got a fairly sophisticated software setup, so I bet it has tons of members.

And... The post of mine that they mention is the one where I got suckered in with the rest of the bloggers who ranted about the free sterilization of fat guys in California. It was just a hoax.

Jed, the blog owner, (aha! I found out whose blog it is!) said "Best headline award goes to (this is my post) 'Does my DNA's Ass Look Fat in These Genes?'"

Okay, so it's not an actual award or anything, and it's a reference to the time I bought in to a hoax and felt stupid, but it's much better than an eight-year-old telling me I smell! WAY better!

Smells Like Auntie Annie

Let's be clear: I bathe. I take showers daily. I never leave the house unshowered... that's just a thing I have. Plenty of people are like that, right?

And I use soap... I use a nice, liquid body wash, and I have a long-handled back scrubber. (Or "butt" scrubber, if you prefer that name. I know I do!) I don't THINK I walk around in a miasma of stinkiness.

So, imagine my horror, when I was chauffering around my friend and her kids. (Her foot is broken, so I help her out getting around town.) We passed through an industrial area that was kind of grimy and smelly, and suddenly, from the back seat, the two little children sang out, "That smells like Auntie Annie!"

And yes -- I'm their Auntie Annie.

It turns out that the girls were talking about a perfumy kind of smell they smelled, in some toy they had. (At least, they were, if you believe their mother's explanation.) The back seat of the van I was driving was eighty feet away from the front seat, after all, and the driver reaches the destination a full ten minutes before the rearmost passengers. So, they could smell an entire battalion of skunks before I would know a thing about it. And yes... skunks DO come in battalions. Didn't you know that?

But this is far from the most oddball thing the kids have said. One sweltering day last summer, we were hanging out at the old swimming hole-pool, and seven-year-old Diana comes up to me to tell me a Big, Important secret.

"You know what? Before we came in the pool, Mommy was shaving.... She grows HAIR! Under her ARMS!!!"

Damn. Secret's out.