h a l f b a k e r yThere goes my teleportation concept.
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Every now and then, I walk out the door in the morning feeling happy and ready to tackle the day ahead of me. By the time I get on the bus, I am severly dissapointed with life and New York, and have already drafted a suicide note.
The Reality Door will speed this process up with a variety of randomly
selected functions to ruin your day before someone else does. Sometimes it will close too fast and catch the heel on your shoe, causing your foot to come out. Other times, it will lower or raise its frame just as you walk out to hit you on the head or cause you to trip. The door will also occasionally soak you with water and/or shock you as you grab the handle. The door will also occasionally open violently to smash your hand as you reach for the handle and close just before you are about to walk through it. On days where you have an appointment, it will just plain not open. And, of course, the door will curse profusely at you and talk fondly of fornicating with various members of you family when you approach it. On your birthday, all the functions will be used at once while the door tells you that you should have died young.
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Annotation:
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Time for another Halfbakery Convention, methinks. |
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[I find NYC usually perks me up, although that doesn't include the buses, which are very depressing.] |
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I think you can only get 'electrocuted' once. |
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Damn. I just checked my dictionary, and you're right. OK, shocked it is. |
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And I don't have the money to fly to England for a Halfbaker's Convention. I'll send a photograph. |
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England? [DrCurry] is still in NYC, I believe. |
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thats got him buying tickets for London. |
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I'd guess that NY has the highest per capita count of halfbakers among states in the US. |
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In NYC? Awsome. We can get curry. |
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I don't know, I just assume everyone's English, because the Limey's get all pissy if you don't. |
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sadly a lot of the NY Hbers seem to have gone awol. |
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We're terribly pedantic, too, you know. Something in the tea, apparently. |
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I find that my large American brain dislikes tea, prefering instead the culinary nuances of the cheeseburger. |
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I was really hoping that this was a door
that you could push your teenager
through so that they would get that
they do not in fact know everything and
that we parents just might have a bit of
an idea of what life is really like. |
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That's called a front door. |
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I'm with you on this one, [notmark]. |
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Hey, I never said I was American! |
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goin' out ...
goin' in....
you have not seen nuthin'
like doors of [notmarkflynn] |
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Not to touch the earth
Not to see the sun
Nothing left to do, but
Run, run, run...Let's Run! |
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Seriously, [notmarkflynn]. I've ne'er been to NYC.
It seems the tone of the post is daunting.
I'm only a fool, but perhaps you could find a thing
a thing you don't know how to do, but somehow interests you.
Dominate this thing with your resolve to master it.
If you're in a position where the total of your time is consumed by your job, take heart. I've been there too.
It's been 15 years, but after busting my ass all that time, I now am reaping the rewards. Great rewards. Not the rewards of my dreams, but those still remain a faint possibility. |
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I would come if I had any idea how to get there and any frame of reference for 15 minutes, as I don't know when you posted that. |
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[Zim], if I ever make a door like this, you're writing the commercial jingle. But what was the thing you mastered? I'd bet it's pretty cool. |
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That brain actually watches a lot of Britcoms. It likes that one with Judy Dench the most. |
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No wonder you're so depressed - you stay up too late. |
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I'm not depressed because I don't sleep! I have black sense of humor! BLACK HUMOR! Nevermind the fact that I'm typing this at 2:23! |
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I like this door a lot and I'm ordering one up - but I want it
to operate in reverse when I come home, becoming the
door of kindness (chokes on own lack of customary
cynicism in this annotation) + |
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