Fundamental laws of the universe

If it's bad, it's possible.
You can find anything you have lost, as long as you're looking for something else.
The severity of the itch is inversely proportional to the likelihood of being able to scratch.
The lower your zipper is, the lower your credibility will be.
There is no end to the amount a person can accomplish, as long as it isn't what they're supposed to be doing.
Anything is possible if you don't know what you are talking about.
Of all the fundamental forces of the universe, the strongest is the will of a woman.
Whatever can go wrong will go wrong, at the worst possible time, in the worst possible way (Murphy's law).
You can have it cheap, fast or good. Pick two.
All roads lead to McDonald's.
Sometimes the best way to get through is to go around.
The quality of the napkins at any given restaurant is inversely proportional to the messiness of the food.
It usually takes at least three socks to make a pair.
The better the shoe fits, the uglier it must be.
Procrastination is the only thing guaranteed to get done.
The probability of being watched is proportional to the stupidity of what you're doing.
Entropy .

By xorbit, netentity and archive, last changed on September 26, 2008 // E-mail to a friend //

Things to do on an exam when you'll fail anyway

I found a hillarious list on the web called "50 things to do on an exam when you know you are going to fail anyway". Here are some of the best ones:

Bring a pillow. Fall asleep (or pretend to) until the last 15 minutes. Wake up, say "oh nuts, better get cracking" and do some gibberish work. Turn it in a few minutes early.
Walk in, get the exam, sit down. About five minutes into it, loudly say to the instructor, "I don't understand ANY of this. I've been to every lecture all semester long! What's the deal? And who are you? Where's the regular guy?"
Run into the exam room looking about frantically. Breathe a sigh of relief. Go to the instructor, say "They've found me, I have to leave the country" and run off.
Do the entire exam in another language. If you don't know one, make one up! For math or science exams, try using Roman numerals.
As soon as the instructor hands you the exam, eat it.
Every five minutes, stand up, collect all your things, move to another seat, continue with the exam.
Turn in the exam approximately 30 minutes into it. As you walk out, start commenting on how easy it was.
Go to an exam for a class you have no clue about, where you know the class is very small, and the instructor would recognize you if you belonged. Claim that you have been to every lecture. Fight for your right to take the exam.
Bring cheat sheets for another class and staple them to the exam, with the comment "Please use the attached notes for references as you see fit."
After you get the exam, call the instructor over, point to any question, ask for the answer. Try to work it out of him/her.
During the exam, take apart everything around you. Desks, chairs, anything you can reach.
Answer the exam with the "Top Ten Reasons Why Professor xxxx Stinks."

The complete list can be found at 50 things to do on an exam when you know you are going to fail anyway .

By xorbit, last changed on August 6, 2008 // E-mail to a friend //

Really weird analogies

Some of the weirdest analogies found in papers by high school students:

The situation had become topsy-turvy - like Christmas in the summer, if you’re in Australia.
Her vocabulary was as bad as, like, whatever.
The information imbedded on the stolen computer chip was like an explosive so explosive it could explode, creating a massive explosion.
Her parting words lingered heavily inside me like last night’s Taco Bell.
The plan was simple, like my brother-in-law Phil. But unlike Phil, this plan just might work.
His face looked like an ice sculpture. Not one of those pretty ones in the middle of a cruise ship buffet, but the kind they do in a contest with a chain saw - and it had been out in the heat too long.
She walked into my office like a centipede with 98 missing legs.
A single drop of sweat slowly inched down Chad’s brow - a tiny, glistening Times Square New Year’s Eve Ball of desperation.
The little boat gently drifted across the pond exactly the way a bowling ball wouldn’t.
Her face was a perfect oval, like a circle that had its two other sides gently compressed by a ThighMaster.
He spoke with the wisdom that can come only from experience, like a guy who went blind because he looked at a solar eclipse without one of those boxes with a pinhole in it and now goes around the country speaking at high schools about the dangers of looking at a solar eclipse without one of those boxes with a pinhole in it.
From the attic came an unearthly howl. The whole scene had an eerie, surreal quality, like when you’re on vacation in another city and “Jeopardy” comes on at 7 p.m. instead of 7:30.
Her hair glistened in the rain like nose hair after a sneeze.
Her eyes were like two brown circles with big black dots in the center.
He was as tall as a six-foot-three-inch tree.
She grew on him like she was a colony of E. coli and he was room-temperature Canadian beef.
She had a deep, throaty, genuine laugh, like that sound a dog makes just before it throws up.
Even in his last years, Grandpappy had a mind like a steel trap, only one that had been left out so long, it had rusted shut.
Shots rang out, as shots are wont to do.
He was deeply in love. When she spoke, he thought he heard bells, as if she were a garbage truck backing up.
The young fighter had a hungry look, the kind you get from not eating for a while.
He fell for her like his heart was a mob informant and she was the East River.
He was as lame as a duck. Not the metaphorical lame duck, either, but a real duck that was actually lame. Maybe from stepping on a land mine or something.
Her eyes were like limpid pools, only they had forgotten to put in any pH cleanser.
Her voice had that tense, grating quality, like a generation thermal paper fax machine that needed a band tightened.
It hurt the way your tongue hurts after you accidentally staple it to the wall.
The hailstones leaped from the pavement, just like maggots when you fry them in hot grease.
Long separated by cruel fate, the star-crossed lovers raced across the grassy field toward each other like two freight trains, one having left Cleveland at 6:36 p.m. traveling at 55 mph, the other from Topeka at 4:19 p.m. at a speed of 35 mph.
They lived in a typical suburban neighborhood with picket fences that resembled Nancy Kerrigan’s teeth.
John and Mary had never met. They were like two hummingbirds who had also never met.
The thunder was ominous sounding, much like the sound of a thin sheet of metal being shaken backstage during the storm scene in a play.
His thoughts tumbled in his head, making and breaking alliances like underwear in a dryer without Cling Free.
The red brick wall was the color of a brick-red Crayola crayon.
The politician was gone, but unnoticed, like the period after the Dr. on a Dr Pepper can.
She had a voice so husky it could have pulled a dogsled.

By xorbit, last changed on March 14, 2008 // E-mail to a friend //

Signs that you have a small child

You are not uncomfortable with sniffing a butt in public.
You feel like you are forgetting something if you can easily walk out the door.
The safety and security procedures in your home have to be stricter than those of the TSA.
You do not think it unusual to find salami in your recliner, CD's in your tub, rocks in the dryer vent, and Tupperware in the toilet.
You think a paper towel tube is a musical instrument.
You always carry a bag of Cheerios in your purse.
The possessions you are most afraid to lose are small, plastic, drooled on, and cost less than 3 bucks.
You find yourself humming "Pop Goes the Weasel" during dull moments at work.
You no longer need to buy sticky notes, because regular paper sticks anywhere you put it anyway.
There is absolutely no reason to purchase a burglar alarm for your home because anyone attempting to walk through your house in the dark will set off numerous noisy toys and will inevitably howl in pain when they encounter the Duplo's.

By netentity, last changed on February 2, 2008 // E-mail to a friend //

How to write a paper or presentation

I. Think of something to write
     A. What's in the fridge?
     B. What reading material can I use for inspiration?
     C. Do I have to go to the bathroom?
II. Start writing your ideas
     A. Figure out how to make your word processor format things correctly
     B. Write a few test sentences
     C. Erase the totally stupid paragraph you just wrote
III. Acting on your inspiration
     A. Clean the house thoroughly
     B. Call a friend
     C. Invent a new kind of time saving device
     D. Attend to your personal appearance
IV. Wrap up the project
     A. Capture time pressure induced idea
     B. Type everything quickly and sloppily
     C. Clean up the mess
V. Trouble shooting printing problems
     A. Windows help
     B. Call a friend
     C. Find a new printing method

By netentity, last changed on January 17, 2008 // E-mail to a friend //

Why men have no reason to be depressed

Men are just happier people. What do you expect from such simple creatures?

Your last name stays put.
The garage is all yours.
Wedding plans take care of themselves.
Chocolate is just another snack.
You can be President.
You can never be pregnant.
You can wear a white T-shirt to a water park.
You can wear NO shirt to a water park.
Car mechanics tell you the truth.
The world is your urinal.
You never have to drive to another gas station restroom because this one is just too disgusting.
You don't have to stop and think of which way to turn a nut on a bolt.
Same work, more pay.
Wrinkles add character.
Wedding dress $5000. Tux rental $100.
People don't stare at your chest when you're talking to them, unless there is food on your shirt.
New shoes don't cut, blister, or mangle your feet.
One mood all the time.
You frequently get fed.
Phone conversations are over in 30 seconds flat.
A five-day vacation requires only one suitcase.
You can open all your own jars.
People believe you when you give advice about computers or cars.
You get extra credit for the slightest act of thoughtfulness.
If someone forgets to invite you, he or she can still be your friend.
Your underwear is only $8.95 for a three-pack.
Three pairs of shoes are more than enough.
You almost never have strap problems in public.
You are unable to see wrinkles in your clothes.
You can buy clothes based entirely on what's on the size tag.
Everything on your face stays its original color.
The same hairstyle lasts for years, maybe decades.
You only have to shave your face and neck.
You can play with toys all your life.
One wallet and one color for all seasons.
You can 'do' your nails with a pocket knife.
You can wear shorts no matter how your legs look.
You can wear sandals no matter how your toe nails look.

No wonder men are happier!

By xorbit and netentity, last changed on December 21, 2007 // E-mail to a friend //

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