Scrabble Words

I was thinking about yesterday's "Scrabble" post, and a thought occurred to me. What if your opponent played an uncharacteristic word? What if your opponent was famous?

And thus, a pointless comedy exercise was born. If your opponent was a particular famous person, what's the most unlikely scrabble word he could play?

Hey, if you think today's comedy exercise is pointless, just wait until you see tomorrow's. :)

Opponent: Larry King


Opponent: Elmer Fudd


Opponent: Ty Pennington


Opponent: Steve Jobs


Opponent: Captain James T. Kirk


Opponent: John Madden


Opponent: Stephen Hawking


Opponent: Mr. T

Super Scrabble

My in-laws got "Super Scrabble", which is a bulked-up version of regular Scrabble. It has twice as many letter tiles and an expanded game board. The extreme outer reaches of the game board has quadruple letter and word score spots.

I am pleased to say, my wife and I were the first to take advantage of a quadruple letter spot. With the letter "X", no less. "TAXI" was worth 35 points that way. Very nice. :)

Of course, having twice as many tiles means there's a better chance of winding up with this kind of selection:



At least it wasn't as bad as my wife's brother and his bride. During one turn, they had six "I"'s. Wow.

My wife and I led for most of the game, but a spectacular collapse at the end caused us to come in last place. We pretty much ran out of vowels. I think my wife's brother had them all.

Hopefully, we'll have bttr lck nxt tm.

Propping Up The Fence

The fence along the back of my backyard is held together with sticky bird droppings and sheer hope. Thankfully we had a large bit of lumber laying around, because recently this became necessary:



When you reach this point with your fence, the term "permanent solution" ceases to apply. However, "long-term solution" is still an attainable goal. Sorta.

I talked to my dad about how to use T-Posts to prop up the fence. T-Posts are crazy-hard metal sticks you can slam into the ground and lean stuff against. You use a tool called a "post driver" for the slamming bit.

My grandfather offered to let me borrow his post driver. I had never seen one before. Dad warned me that Grandpa's is home-made and "a sight to behold." He wasn't kidding. At eye level that thing looks like jail cell bars for really skinny people. It's nearly as heavy as I am.

It's loud, too. Metal on metal, go figure.

This is my favorite part, though. On the phone, Dad described the metal brackets I would need for attaching the T-Posts to the fence cross-beams. He said he'd give me some if he still had any laying around. This is what I received:



That's right. My dad partially dismantled his fence to show me how to fix mine. Dad... you're the best.

I didn't quite get it done injury-free, but thankfully I only bled a little. My wife says the "What have I done to my poor unsuspecting thumb?" dance was bold and innovative. It was also nearly as loud as the post driver.



That, my friends, is what victory looks like. It feels good to be a winner!

And The Rockets' Red Glare

Last weekend was our second "4th of July" holiday in our house. We're already settling nicely into a new July 4th tradition.



Namely, wandering around outside to make sure our roof isn't on fire.



I'm pretty sure that if our entire neighborhood were to pool their resources and set off everything all at once, it would rival the typical city-sponsored event.



I hope you had a good 4th, I hope you have all of your fingers, and I hope that nobody burned anything they didn't intend to. :)

Holiday Weekend

Happy 4th of July!



A day early. :) Have a great weekend!

Little Stories

Attractive

OoRah was walking past LadyPatsFan's desk. Right as he walked by he heard:

"Alright... lookin' good..."

Turns out she was mumbling at some code on her screen and wasn't even aware of him walking by. Not that it tamed any of the "crazy stalker lady" jokes, of course.

Oooooh-RAH, baby. Work it.

If you dare go bare

LadyPatsFan was playing around with some of the photos from my preventative hailstone adventure. Her 4-year-old daughter came by to see what Mommy was working on.

"Mommy, why doesn't that man have shoes on?"
"This is mommy's friend Jeff. His shoes were all wet, and he had to take them off so they would dry."
"He shouldn't take his shoes off!"
"Yes, but they were all wet."
"Oh. [pause] Jeff should come over here with us!"

This sudden change in subject caused LadyPatsFan to blink and pause briefly.

"Well, yeah, I guess he could come over and visit."

Her daughter nodded. "I hope he wears his shoes."

Welcome to the jungle baby

East Coast (a round-ish bald co-worker) and I were talking about the various difficult projects we're working on. He chuckled and said, "Yeah, this project's been pretty tough. When I started on it I had hair."

He's never had hair since I've known him. I played along with the joke.

"Yeah, I remember... you were a regular Axle Rose."



The joke got the desired response, but I seriously doubt there's much truth to it. :)

Escalator

There are some escalators in a building near where I work. The other day I was walking through that building and found myself behind a gentleman who was walking with a cane.

I should pause a minute to explain my theory of escalators. It's pretty simple, really:

1) If there's no one in front of me, then I try to race up the steps as fast as possible without actually breaking into a run. This often involves me pretending to be Spiderman. I give myself bonus points for going slightly airborne at the top.

2) If there are people walking up the escalator in front of me, I will politely match their speed. I'm usually thinking, "Nutz... well, we'll get there eventually."

3) If there are folks standing and allowing the steps to carry them up, I usually think angry thoughts, tap my foot on the step loudly and glare daggers into their soul. Since this always involves staring directly into an oblivious double-wide hinder, the target of my wrath rarely notices. Also, I doubt that a double-wide hinder is a window to any body's soul.

I had already decided that the gentleman with the cane was going to be an exception to my rules. He could barely walk, after all. No way was I going to be miffed at him for taking the slow route.

And then, the most amazing thing happened. He stepped onto the escalator, and he started to walk up the steps.

He was moving slowly, but he was moving. I nearly cried, I was so happy. I wanted to hug him. It was like watching an elderly Spiderman... nothing could stop him!

It made me want to carry a cane. It wouldn't be a sign of weakness, oh no! It would be a symbol of great pride! Never give up, never surrender!

Plus, I could use it to prod the next cluster of jelly-bottoms that I get stuck behind.

I love multipurpose tools.