clever car clip

Hey everyone, check out this really neat advert. Be sure you turn up the volume to enjoy the music and grab a kleenex! It made me cry.

Some humor for you (at someone else's expense)

Here's an interesting story to help you appreciate your job.
The next time you have a bad day at work... think of this guy. Rob is a commercial saturation diver for Global Divers in Louisiana. He performs underwater repairs on offshore drilling rigs. Below is an e-mail he sent to his sister. She then sent it to radio station 103.2 on FM dial in Ft. Wayne, Indiana, who was sponsoring a worst job experience contest. Needless to say, she won.
Hi Sue: Just another note from your bottom-dwelling brother. Last week I had a bad day at the office. I know you've been feeling down lately at work, so I thought I would share my dilemma with you to make you realize it's not so bad after all. Before I can tell you what happened to me, I first must bore you with a few technicalities of my job.
As you know, my office lies at the bottom of the sea. I wear a suit to the office. It's a wet suit. This time of year the water is quite cool. So what we do to keep warm is this: We have a diesel powered industrial water heater. This $20,000 piece of equipment sucks the water out of the sea. It heats it to a delightful temperature. It then pumps it down to the diver through a garden hose, which is taped to the air hose.
Now this sounds like a darn good plan, and I've used it several times with no complaints. What I do, when I get to the bottom and start working, is take the hose and stuff it down the back of my wet suit. This floods my whole suit with warm water. It's like working in a Jacuzzi.
Everything was going well until all of a sudden, my butt started to itch. So, of course, I scratched it. This only made things worse. Within a few seconds my butt started to burn. I pulled the hose out from my back, but the damage was done. In agony I realized what had happened. The hot water machine had sucked up a jellyfish and pumped it into my suit. Now, since I don't have any hair on my back, the jellyfish couldn't stick to it. However, the crack of my butt was not as fortunate. When I scratched what I thought was an itch, I was actually grinding the jellyfish into the crack of my butt.
I informed the dive supervisor of my dilemma over the communicator. His instructions were unclear due to the fact that he, along with five other divers, were all laughing hysterically. Needless to say I aborted the dive. I was instructed to make three agonizing in-water decompression stops totaling thirty-five minutes before I could reach the surface to begin my chamber dry decompression. When I arrived at the surface, I was wearing nothing but my brass helmet. As I climbed out of the water, the medic, with tears of laughter running down his face, handed me a tube of cream and told me to rub it on my butt as soon as I got in the chamber. The cream put the fire out, but I couldn’t poop for two days because my butt was swollen shut.
So, next time you're having a bad day at work, think about how much worse it would be if you had a jellyfish shoved up your butt.
Now repeat to yourself, "I love my job, I love my job, I love my job."

Re: gliding over pavement

Considering the sun likes to peek out from behind the rain clouds every so often and I don't have to wear a heavy jacket to venture outdoors anymore, it's high time I took up inline skating!!!
Now I know what you're thinking; rest assured the rolling blades will probably never replace the mountain bike as my first love (sports-wise that is). It's just that, well, hm, how do I state this... there are no mountains here! Sure, there are dirt roads I hope to ride soon enough but that won't be happening on a regular enough basis to call it exercise - ergo the wheels on my heels. Besides, once I combine the skates with a sporty outfit, a pair of shades and a tan, there will be one very cool cat painting the trails in this town!
Ok, here's the catch. I can count the number of times my feet have been strapped to rubber wheels on the fingers of both hands, maybe even on just the fingers of one hand if you've got six fingers. When wearing the rollers I kind of look like Frankenstein's monster trying out a new dance and I am attracted to the ground much like a large helium-filled balloon is not.
Also, I don't own a pair of skates - well, at least not yet. Are any of my avid readers an authority on the matter of inlines? Would you like to impart some of your knowledge to me? What should I keep in mind when purchasing the means to release myself from the grip of static friction? Is there a good brand name I should choose? How about durometer? bearings? flat-rocker? hard or soft boot? Is it really not possible, as I've been told, to get those cool clip-on blades in the United States? And finally, that burning question, should I get soul plates?
BTW, FYI, a full five minutes into my exhaustive research on the matter I discovered a couple interesting facts. First, inline skates where invented long before some square decided to arrange the rolleys in a rectangle. Second, did you know that, like Kleenex, Rollerblade is a registered trademark? Sure it is. Why the Rollerblade website even has a fascinating grammar lesson on the proper use of trademarks. Who would have thunk it? Well, it was enough to get me to edit out of this post any incorrect use of a trademark as an improper adjective, a noun or a verb, but nobody owns slang so the blade lingo stays!