iPad Companion Product – the iFlo.

 

iFlo Accessories
  • iDouche – Cache cleaner
  • iPMS – Kills viruses and anything else that gets in the way
  • iMidol – Relieves desktop water retention
  • iPlug – USB flash stick stops memory leaks
  • iProzac – Prevents hard drive crashes
  • iStridex – Wipes oily buildup off case
  • iPill – Monthly periodic maintenance program
  • iRecall – Extra memory when yours shuts downs
  • iBlock – Keeps intruders from entering your space
  • iShriek – Key pad alarm goes off at the slightest touch
 
Coming soon to an asylum near you – The iTouched. Comes with rubber case and commitment papers. Electrical adapter and plastic wrap not included.

 

Do you think that the iPad is a really bad name?
Is Apple Rotten?
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Mad TV IPad Parody Before IPad Existed

Several years ago, MadTV, a comedy show on Fox that ran at the same time as SNL, did a Parody of a fake Apple product they called the iPad for women. You get the picture. Now see the video.

That’s why choosing the proper name for a product is so important. Somebody at Apple didn’t search the Intertubes before their brainstorming session that led to the name iPad. which is a large Multi-Touch screen that is technologically advanced , as well as absorbent. ” . . . navigating the web (and your menstrual cycle) has never been easier.”

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Caught in the Unemployment Voice Mail Undertow.

MONDAY’S UNEMPLOYMENT LUNCH SPECIAL:  
Waterlogged crescents with bloated blue cheese, horseradish flotsam, and sour cream pond scum.

Try not to throw up until after you’ve finished pressing every voice mail option and screaming obscenities at the cyborg operator.

CHATHAM, MA - AUGUST 22: A sign warns beachgoe...Image by Getty Images via Daylife


I’m convinced that my Uncle Sam‘s phone system was designed for the criminally insane or for flat-lined deadbeats still clinging to life support. Warning: batteries not included.

Yesterday my brain almost melted after spending close to an hour on the phone with the NYS Unemployment Office trying to speak with a live-bearing mammal or something with human DNA. Instead, I listened to a monotonous voice prompt that sent my head exploding like a rear-ended Ford Pinto.

The voice mail options were something like . . .

  • If you’d like to continue in English, press 1.
  • If you’d like to continue in Pig Latin, press 2.
  • If you’d like to file for unemployment benefits, press 3.
  • If you’d like to file your nails, press 4.
  • If you’d like to hear our frequently asked questions, press 5.
  • If you’d like to hear our frequently spewed flatulence, press 6.
  • If you’d like to put a revolver to your head and blow your brains out, press 7.

I chose option 8, rip the phone from the wall and toss it down a sink hole.

What has your experience been in trying to reach a warm-bloodied creature at the Unemployment Office?
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CSI Kitchen: The Cook that Slaughtered the Sauce.

KITCHEN CARNAGE.

My reputation for crimes against cooking precedes me, as I recently discovered that my name is on the FBI’s No Fry List. Whenever checking out at the supermarket, I’m dragged out of line, patted down, and then interrogated in the meat locker.

The evidence of my atrocity is displayed in the above crime scene photo taken shortly after I murdered a pot of sauce. There will be no services held for the sauce, as it was cremated at the time of death, which was Wed, Jan 21 @ 7 p.m. EST. Please send flowers and condolence notes to Ragu.

The Prosecution’s charges against me:

Leaving the scene of the crime: 
I ran from the room while the sauce slowly burned.

Manslaughter: 
I recklessly endangered the life of the sauce before leaving it to die.

Negligent Homicide: 
I unintentionally scorched the sauce beyond recognition. It had to be identified by the label.

Kidnapping:
I grabbed the Ragu from the shelf while it stood among seven sauce siblings.

Aggravated Assault:
I slaughtered the sauce with a black market burner I purchased over the state line.

Currently, I am under house arrest and have been ordered to remain at least thirty-feet away from the kitchen. 

In a previous post entitled Cook’s Crypt, I wrote about the evil that lurks in my kitchen and how my kitchen has it in for me. (The sauce also had it coming!) So, naturally I can’t help but wonder if there are other culinary dysfunctional people like me. Please indulge me by stating who you are and how you’d answer the following question.

Do you prefer to make sauce or to get sauced?

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Uncle Sam is My Sugar Daddy.

J. M. Flagg's Uncle Sam recruited soldiers for...Image via Wikipedia

The relative with deep pockets.

For a year my very generous Uncle Sam, who is on my mother’s side, has been supporting me financially. He took pity upon the fact that I lost my job and have to sit home all day euthanizing resumes and cover letters that have been condemned to die by my shredder, who I fondly refer to as The Terminator.


I am not the only work depraved soul supported by my uncle. There are thousands of us; all distant cousins living in other economically depressed areas of the country where the dollar, as well as the unemployed, exist on a diet of Macaroni and Cheese and prescription drug cocktails.

These distant relatives of mine, who also have lost their jobs, sit at home staring glassy-eyed at the job boards on their computer screens, and shake their heads in disbelief, as I do, at the limited choices available on the job menus.

Perhaps Monster.com and Yahoo! HotJobs should hire a food consultant and model their job boards after a diner menu, which always has a large variety of items to choose from, in addition to offering customers flexibility in ordering foods from other time zones, as was the case when a Japanese tourist ordered Belgian Waffles in New York City at 6 p.m. Eastern Standard Time.

As generous as my Uncle Sam has been these past twelve months, he recently warned me that in several weeks he will stop sending me checks, which up until now have been tax free. The other bad news. Uncle Sam will be taking back a portion of the money he had deposited electronically into my bank account. My Uncle Sam is such an Indian giver, when in fact, he’ll be taking it back.

Yes, my beloved Uncle Sam will soon be cutting me off and leave me flapping in the wind, like damp laundry on a fraying clothesline. But there is still hope for my cousins and me, who are just two clothespins away from being whisked away by the wind and then dumped on a pile of battered bonds and shriveled stock certificates. Yes, we can use our ingenuity, creativity, and street smarts, if we can still recognize a street after being housebound all this time, by becoming entrepreneurs and selling our homes, our belongings, our children, our dogs on EBay. A cash only deal to ensure that my Uncle Sam doesn’t take a huge percentage out of the Monopoly money I earned from a recent sale of Boardwalk and Park Place.

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While passengers barbecue on Labadee Beach, Haiti, the dead burn in Port-au-Prince.

 

Cruise ships still find a Haitian berth | World news | The Guardian

You can travel to Haiti to help the relief effort by military cargo plane, coast guard, or cruise ship, although military and coast guard vessels don’t enjoy the same amenities as a Royal Caribbean Cruise luxury liner.

Sixty miles from Haiti’s devastated earthquake zone, luxury liners dock at private beaches where passengers enjoy jetski rides, parasailing and rum cocktails delivered to their hammocks.

Amenities aside, the military does have the luxury of learning the island culture by mingling with dead Haitians in the earthquake zone, while taking in the local scenery, even if it means moving bodies or slabs of concrete out of the way to relish breathtaking views of charming villages reduced to rubble. Nothing captures the spirit of Haiti more than a walk through a local marketplace cluttered with decaying carcasses, crushed trinkets, and smoldering native crafts.

If the earthquake has you all shook up, no problem, man, just take a zip line excursion over a white sandy beach where the only debris you’ll see are washed up shells and seaweed.

In Royal Carribean‘s defense, they do employ hundreds of Haitians and are providing help in the relief effort.

“We also have tremendous opportunities to use our ships as transport vessels for relief supplies and personnel to Haiti. Simply put, we cannot abandon Haiti now that they need us most.”

But do they have to have such a damn good time doing it?

Should Royal Caribbean have stuck to their itinerary and docked sixty-miles from the earthquake zone?

 

 

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NASA plumbing rates skyrocket, as urine clogs space station recycling system.

A zenith view of the International Space Stati...

The million dollar clog.


Astronaut urine clogs space station water recycler | News.com.au

In the international space station, astronauts, as well as their back teeth, are floating due to a clog in the water recycling system. Since drilling a well in the space-time continuum wasn’t an option, NASA had no choice but to send urine back from whence it came and create a recycling system that turns urine into water instead of wine, the preferred drink of astronauts. And you thought it was Tang.

“We’ve learned a lot more about urine than we ever needed or wanted to know – some of us anyway,” said station flight director David Korth.

Scientists believe that the clog may have been caused by the high calcium content in the space dudes urine.

Back on earth, fat was the culprit of a recent clog that turned our kitchen sink into a Scottish bog. We never experienced a calcium threat before, as it is usually self-contained in milk dispensing receptacles. Urine spills, not calcium clogs, are the problem of the gravitationally-bound and have been known to wipe out entire bacteria colonies. In contrast, toilet clogs are caused by a flotilla of poo and poo accessories.

Understanding a zero-gravity environment is like pissing in the solar wind.

“Folks had good knowledge of the content of the urine going in, but the chemistry changes as it works through the processor are not always understood,” said program scientist Julie Robinson.

At its inception in November 2008, the urine recycler had been fully tested during a night of drinking at the local NASA watering hole, an uncorroborated rumor that I made up. The recycler functioned properly back then before being introduced to zero gravity and the astronauts to intergalactic drinking games that had them pissing faster than the urine to water conversion rate.

Your tax dollars at work.

Engineers at the Marshall Space Flight Center in Huntsville, Alabama, are hoping to come up with a fix in time to fly replacement parts out on the shuttle Endeavour, which is scheduled for launch on February 7 on a construction mission.

What’s next urine recycled Mai Tais?

What’s your greatest fear about zero-gravity?
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Unscripted Web Design and the 404 Sanity Drainer

Message error 404Image by CyboRoZ via Flickr
Written by Ivy Guiler – UnscriptedLife.com
I leaned back from my laptop, affectionately known as Lolita, and gave my newly finished website one final glance. The logo was perfect, the content was in place and the menus were in working order. I even had a few hours left before my son would wake up and enough caffeine left in my system to catch up on a few episodes of True Blood on OnDemand.
The last thing to do was jump over to my global settings and take the site live. Three weeks of work, five different themes, and countless module changes had all come down to this one moment. As I kicked back on the couch in celebration, I was surprised at how easy it all was…
Easy… I should have seen the irony.
The next morning, I made my son a big breakfast and headed into the office to do a little research for a new post. I didn’t even have time to open a browser before my husband chimed in on IM.
“I thought you put your site live last night,” he typed.
“I did,” I answered, wondering why he was asking me instead of just looking.
After a few moments of silence, he typed: “You might want to take a look then.”
‘Oops! This link appears to be broken’ — 404 error‘ flashed across the screen of my Google Chrome browser.
“I’m sure it’s just a browser issue,” I thought to myself.
So I jumped over to Firefox: ‘404 — Component not found.’
Internet Explorer: ‘This page cannot be found — 404 error’
Safari: ‘Safari can’t find the server — 404 error’
I paused, wondering if somehow in my sleep I managed to get back online and crash my entire site. I pictured myself caught in an alternate reality where my sleep self secretly has it in for my awake, somewhat sane state.
“What is a 404 error?” I asked myself, popping back to the present where I had a somewhat significant problem on my hands.
I quickly came to the conclusion that some part of my joomla install must have been botched. Of course, reinstalling meant losing everything, but having everything and a site that doesn’t work wasn’t much better. I reminded myself the hardest part of this redesign was deciding on my theme. So reinstalling everything should be pretty easy.
Easy… there is that word again. Go ahead and insert an evil, sarcastic pipe organ here.
I dug into my case of energy drinks later that evening and began the re-install. I formatted my menus and got the sections and categories all worked up. I went to bed with only the sidebar left to configure. The site appeared almost complete.
But when I awoke… ‘404 – Component not found.’
“I need to stop going to sleep,” I said to myself.
One by one, I started disabling modules and settings hoping to find the one piece that triggered the devastation.
Syndication… ‘404 – Component not found.’
Logo… ‘404 – Component not found.’
User menu… ‘404 – Component not found.’
The word easy was no longer in my vocabulary.
Every setting… ‘404.’ Every module… ‘404.’ Every page… ‘404.’ That number was quickly becoming my kryptonite. I pictured myself sweeping into my computer and magically fixing all of the settings… then being crushed by ‘404.’
Obviously, my sanity had too been erased by ‘404.’
The theme designer figured out that all of the issues were due to one article, an original article that came with the theme, being unpublished. One article… even he was surprised that it could be that easy.
I re-enabled the modules and slowly started getting the site back to working order. Every change, I checked to see if the site was still working. As soon as I enabled the last component… ‘404.’
The problem this time… a comma out of place.
Welcome to my unscripted life!

Please take a moment to visit Unscriptedlife.com and read more great articles like this one.

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