If I ever become a millionaire I want to build and live in a house like this! The Kazuya Morita Architecture Studio’s shelf-pod concept is brilliant, and I can only imagine that Miss Kitten’s cats would enjoy such an abode as well. For more images check out the original post.
I like Cafepress because they will print you anything you want and the turn-around time is very fast. Their prices could be a bit cheaper, but considering that most brick-and-mortar screen-printing places have additional set-up fees — with Cafepress they are included — they are still very reasonably priced.
Like Mike Rowe from Dirty Jobs I’m a big fan of baseball caps. Not only are they practical, providing shade for your eyes; but you don’t ever have to worry about how your hair looks. Until you take off your cap of course hahaha!
Anyhow, I decided to custom-order a bibliophile cap from Cafepress and this is what I came up with!
I’ve always been a bibliophile. I love reading. I love walking into libraries and book shops, browsing endless rows of books, stacked from the bottom of the floor to the top of the ceiling. I fear that one day I will be killed by a bookshelf falling on me, but what a death that would be! Alas, they will say, “he loved books and they killed him.” I can think of no better epitaph than that.
Recently, I’ve taken up the obsession of book collecting, a noble pursuit, and one that is filled with many mysteries. Few creatures are as misunderstood as the book collector, and especially the ones of the antiquarian kind. They have their own language, and not many understand their bibliomania. Most are not in it for the money, but for the passion, for the pursuit of that elusive book that haunts them late at night. Is it a first edition they seek? Is it a signed copy? Is it just the name of the author that drives them to despair? They must possess this treasure at seemingly any cost or detriment to their mental sanity; like a CERN scientist chasing neutrinos with chalked hands and a collider.
No doubt you are thinking, “well what book do you seek, good Sir?” I shall tell you, it is a signed first edition of Damn Rare: The Memoirs of an African-American Bibliophile by Charles L. Blockson. The irony is not lost on me that I’m searching for a rare book written by a rare bibliophile with “rare” in the title.
In my first attempt to locate this book and read it, I scoured my public library, but to no avail. Not even through an inter-library loan could a copy be found. The nearest library that actually has a copy is in Champaign-Urbana, a good 45 minutes drive away, and this being an academic library I can not check it out without being a student or faculty of the university − for shame! Searches on AbeBooks and Amazon give me prices ranging from $30 to $130 dollars should I wish to purchase a copy. This cements my theory that the book is a rarity indeed, for why else would it be so expensive? I must now commit my time and energy to tracking down a copy of this book and I will keep you posted on my progress.
It is starting to dawn on me that the older I get, the more frail my body becomes. I’m missing the body of my youth, where the biggest problem was some acne. Now it’s aching muscles, rashes, general fatigue, etc. How carefree those days were when my body just performed. Not so now. Now I take medicine for my blood pressure, and I never thought in a million years that I would become one of those complaining old people. You see, when your body is not feeling well, you become irritable, and you complain. You complain about small things, large things, invisible things, today’s youth, coffee, people’s driving, et cetera. Oh how I wish for the health of my youth!
I don’t believe in pseudo-science, I’m a Skeptic. UFOs, the Flying Spaghetti Monsters, the Loch Ness lake monster, are all bullshit. I repeat: BULLSHIT. However, if there was indeed intelligent life out there wishing to conquer earth and ravage us, I believe that they scanned our planet and found the following music videos before they decided that this planet is definitely not worth it!
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Q9ocLN4Dc3I
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=VfuPuLcAmL8
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=_qP9OfzdA6s
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=buXJlBd3Mf8
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=aFd5Cci_pE4
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=P86fPsC_cCQ
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=tsoH7HI8YII
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=cvgUdrzGNys
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=u3ltZmI5LQw
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=4W_kWxWn-Zo
Ladies and gentlemen, I have reached utter nerddom! No doubt distinguished scholars, nerds, geeks, engineers, scientists, and plain lunatics would agree that a gentleman or lady’s wardrobe would be incomplete without a pocket protector. Behold this little gem that I picked up at PocketProtectors.com. Made in the USA from clear and/or white vinyl, the pocket protector will not only make you look handsomely stylish, but also protect your pocket from leaky pens and pointy pencils. There are several versions to choose from, including the Stealth version, the entirely clear Invisible version, and the Badge Holder version that I chose. Ordering was a breeze, the price reasonable, and I received mine two days after ordering.
Beware: with a pocket protector you will be the envy of everyone at the plant, office, lab or asylum; and a saucy minx might also try to take advantage of you and steal your treasured possession.
There are few constants in the world, and two of those are of pain and suffering. Pain is a wonderful thing. It reminds us that we are fallible and alive. If we did not feel pain, we would be dead. We must embrace pain, as we embrace failure. We must realize that we are utterly worthless and that trying to accomplish something worthwhile is an exercise in futility. Something will inevitable go wrong, the spoke of the wheel will fail, and the best-laid plans will falter under the enormous weight of reality. There is no redemption, there is no hope. Man ─ as he stands ─ is alone. His own thoughts will betray him, his body will decay, and time is neither his friend nor his enemy. Time, an artificial construct has made slaves of us all. Before the invention of the watch, the most despicable of devices, there was only night and day as measurement.
Dictionary.com defines a mollycoddle as a noun meaning: “a man or boy who is used to being coddled; a milksop.” Alternatively it can also be a verb used with an object, thereby meaning, “to coddle; pamper.” The World English Dictionary further states, “to treat with indulgent care…”
“Patrick Mercer, the Tory MP and former Army officer, hit out and told the Telegraph that tougher policing should be used in mainland Britain for the first time.
He said: ‘I find it strange that we are willing to use these sort of measures against the Irish yet when Englishmen step out of line and behave in this atrocious and appalling way, we are happy to mollycoddle them.'”
Although I’m way too impatient to use this book carrying method, I find it aesthetically pleasing.
The local rag always has excellent letters to the editor. I read this golden gem today! Perhaps if he had continued his education he would have understood the concept that “correlation does not imply causation.”
Random Misanthrope 