Duuuuuude, Spam?

So, spammers, what’s the deal with trying to spam my blog with “head shop” junk? Bongs, pipes, etc.? E.D. drugs and grass seed too good for you?
Y’all have problems. Seriously.

A Random Act Of Factiness

I am apparently genetically predisposed towards an inability to spell “caricature” without the aid and comfort of a nearby dictionary. My mind practically screams “There’s got to be an ‘H’ in there somewhere!”
Bonus Orthogonal Observation:
I am unsure as to why comment spammers suddenly think including the word “urine” in their attempts to make it past my filters will increase their chances of getting through. It apparently worked somewhere, somehow, at some time, because a large portion of the comments Akismet nails these days include the word.
Dashedly odd, if I do say so myself.

Dear Abby…

A brief question, dear readers:
What, precisely, is the proper workplace restroom response to a coworker who, by all appearances, is talking to his toilet bowl, other than fleeing the scene at top speed?
Follow-up question:
What is the proper response when encountering said coworker in the hallway later in the day? (Note that he is likely unaware of your overhearing his auditory restroom transgressions.)
Bonus points will be issued for suitably humorous responses.

Is It Too Late To Change My Major?

1) I didn’t realize that there’s such a thing as “explosives engineering”
2) I didn’t realize that some universities offer minors in said engineering field
3) I didn’t realize that one of those unis has an explosives summer camp, which is more boom-y than regular camp, I’ll wager.


Norf Mirtle Beech
Maxin’ and relaxin’ on the beach, hence posting is likely to be light, light, light.
Nobody touch nuthin’ while I’m gone.