Possumblog

BUT, before we get to that...

...some items of interest from the Inbox. Chet the E-Mail Boy is still chuckling at the first set, which comes to us via Steevil (famed NASA scientist and brother of Dr. Weevil), who is familiar with the subject matter. I will warn my Southren readers that some of the terminology is unfamiliar, but Yankees should get a kick out of it.

New England "Ifs"...

If your local Dairy Queen is closed from September through May, you live in New England.

If someone in a Home Depot store offers you assistance and they don't work there, you live in New England. [Say--I must live in New England!]

If you've worn shorts and a parka at the same time, you live in New England.

If you've had a lengthy telephone conversation with someone who dialed a wrong number, you live in New England. [What about if the guy on the other end is drunk and calls you at 3 in the morning to accuse you of impregnating his daughter?]

You know you're a New Englander when: "Vacation" means going anywhere south of New York City for the weekend.

You measure distance in hours. . .well, of course!

You know several people who have hit a deer more than once. [In the South, I think this would be modified to say "...hit a deer in their driveway more than once."]

You have switched from "heat" to "A/C" in the same day and back again.

You can drive 75 mph through 2 feet of snow during a raging blizzard without flinching. [Now that one I know must be true--around here everything closes down when there's a quarter inch on the sides of the road.]

You install security lights on your house and garage, but leave both unlocked.

You carry jumpers in your car and your wife knows how to use them.

You design your kid's Halloween costume to fit over a snowsuit.

The speed limit on the highway is 55 mph -- you're going 80 and everybody is passing you! [See--we think we have so many differences, yet some of the important things in life are universal.]

Driving is better in the winter because the potholes are filled with snow.

You know all 4 seasons: almost winter, winter, still winter and road construction.

You have more miles on your snow blower than your car.

You find 10 degrees "a little chilly."

Also from Steevil, this blurb from NRO's The Corner, in which we learn that if you give a man a fish, he will eat for a day. If you give a man small arms training, he can eat for days, although he might be a bit deaf. Thank you, Steevil!

Next up, from the mysterious "Jim Smith," an interesting little doohickey he found on the Internet, the Birthday Calculator.

According to this little jewel, I found out that:

My date of conception was on or about 16 October 1961 which was a Monday. [Eww]

The Julian calendar date of my birth is 2437854.5.

My Native American Zodiac sign is Woodpecker.

My date of birth on the Hebrew calendar is 7 Tammuz 5722.

The Mayan Calendar long count date of my birthday is 12.17.8.14.10 which is 12 baktun 17 katun 8 tun 14 uinal 10 kin

As of 10/16/2006 9:26:37 AM EDT, I am 44 years old, or 531 months old, or 2,310 weeks old, or 16,170 days old, or 388,089 hours old, or 23,285,366 minutes old, or 1,397,121,997 seconds old.

Celebrities who share my birthday: Courtney Love (1964), John Tesh (1952), O.J. Simpson (1947), and Nicola Tesla (1856)

My age is the equivalent of a dog that is 6.32876712328767 years old. (It said that I'm still chasing cats, which is true)

There are 266 days till my next birthday on which my cake will have 45 candles.

Those 45 candles produce 45 BTUs, or 11,340 calories of heat (that's only 11.3400 food Calories!). You can boil 5.14 US ounces of water with that many candles.

In the immortal words of Johnny Carson, that is some wild, wacky stuff.

Now then, back to attempting to recreate the boring details of my weekend.

Posted by Terry Oglesby at October 16, 2006 08:39 AM