http://www.dj-beertap.com/Weeee.swf
because life is not strange enough.
remarkably,
mr smith
Weeeeeeeee............
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Last Real Burner
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Weeeeeeeee............
"Do you know what happened to the boy who got everything he wished for? - He lived happily ever after".
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Bob
- Posts: 6747
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- Camp Name: Royaneh
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That squirrel thing is a couple years old.
And full of copyright violations, btw.
And full of copyright violations, btw.
Amazing desert structures & stuff: http://sites.google.com/site/potatotrap/
"Let us say I suggest you may be human." -- Reverend Mother Gaius Helen Mohiam
"Let us say I suggest you may be human." -- Reverend Mother Gaius Helen Mohiam
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Last Real Burner
- Posts: 941
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......What are you planning on putting that, Doc.......
Hey don't look at me they just told me to stand here in these pink and blue polka dotted panties until a tall gentleman, in a Saffron hat ask me if Bob's my uncle.
quite possibly,
mr smith
quite possibly,
mr smith
"Do you know what happened to the boy who got everything he wished for? - He lived happily ever after".
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PurpleKoosh
- Posts: 1638
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- Camp Name: M*A*S*H 4207
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If you're gonna invoke the squirrels, at least you can reference the original website:
http://www.threebrain.com/weeeeee.shtml
And once you've done that, why not go out and find your Squirrel Name?
Yours truly,
Princess Drunkenpaws
http://www.threebrain.com/weeeeee.shtml
And once you've done that, why not go out and find your Squirrel Name?
Yours truly,
Princess Drunkenpaws
Anything purple is mine. Anything else can be dyed or painted.
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Rian Jackson
- Posts: 3903
- Joined: Fri Sep 19, 2003 4:30 pm
- Location: In Rob's Head
Squirrels Are Scary
Beware....
The Squirrel Grenade
I never dreamed slowly cruising through a residential neighborhood could be so incredibly dangerous! Studies have shown that motorcycling requires more decisions per second, and more sheer data processing than nearly any other common activity or sport. The reactions and accurate decision making abilities needed have been likened to the reactions of fighter pilots! The consequences of bad decisions or poor situational awareness are pretty much the same for both groups too.
Occasionally, as a rider I have caught myself starting to make bad or late decisions while riding. In flight training, my instructors called this being "behind the power curve". It is a mark of experience that when this begins to happen, the rider recognizes the situation, and more importantly, does something about it. A short break, a meal, or even a gas stop can set things right again as it gives the brain a chance to catch up.
Good, accurate, and timely decisions are essential when riding a motorcycle at least if you want to remain among the living. In short, the brain needs to keep up with the machine.
I had been banging around the roads of east Texas and as I headed back into Dallas, found myself in very heavy, high-speed traffic on the freeways.
Normally, this is not a problem, I commute in these conditions daily, but suddenly I was nearly run down by a car that decided it needed my lane more than I did. This is not normally a big deal either, as it happens around here often, but usually I can accurately predict which drivers are not paying attention and avoid them before we are even close. This one I missed seeing until it was nearly too late, and as I took evasive action I nearly broadsided another car that I was not even aware was there!
Two bad decisions and insufficient situational awareness.all within seconds. I was behind the power curve. Time to get off the freeway. I hit the next exit, and as I was in an area I knew pretty well, headed through a few big residential neighborhoods as a new route home. As I turned onto the nearly empty streets I opened the visor on my full-face helmet to help get some air I figured some slow riding through the quiet surface streets would give me time to relax, think, and regain that "edge" so frequently required when riding.
Little did I suspect.
As I passed an oncoming car, a brown furry missile shot out from under it and tumbled to a stop immediately in front of me. It was a squirrel, and must have been trying to run across the road when it encountered the car.
I really was not going very fast, but there was no time to brake or avoid it-it was that close.
I hate to run over animals.and I really hate it on a motorcycle, but a squirrel should pose no danger to me. I barely had time to brace for the impact.
Animal lovers, never fear. Squirrels can take care of themselves!
Inches before impact, the squirrel flipped to his feet. He was standing on his hind legs and facing the oncoming Valkyrie with steadfast resolve in his little beady eyes. His mouth opened, and at the last possible second, he screamed and leapt! I am pretty sure the scream was squirrel for, "Banzai!" or maybe, "Die you gravy-sucking, heathen scum!" as the leap was spectacular and he flew over the windshield of my motorcycle and impacted me squarely in the chest.
Instantly he set upon me. If I did not know better I would have sworn he brought twenty of his little buddies along for the attack. Snarling, hissing, and tearing at my clothes, he was a frenzy of activity. As I was dressed only in a light t-shirt, summer riding gloves, and jeans this was a bit of a cause for concern. This furry little tornado was doing some damage!
Picture a large man on a huge black and chrome cruiser, dressed in jeans, a t-shirt, and leather gloves puttering maybe 25mph down a quiet residential street... and in the fight of his life with a squirrel. And losing.
I grabbed for him with my left hand and managed to snag his tail. With all my strength I flung the evil rodent off the left of the bike, almost running into the right curb as I recoiled from the throw.
That should have done it. The matter should have ended right there. It really should have. The squirrel could have sailed into one of the pristinely kept yards and gone on about his business, and I could have headed home. No one would have been the wiser. But this was no ordinary squirrel. This was not even an ordinary pissed-off squirrel. This was an evil attack squirrel of death!
Somehow he caught my gloved finger with one of his little hands, and with the force of the throw swung around and with a resounding thump and an amazing impact he landed square on my back and resumed his rather anti-social and extremely distracting activities. He also managed to take my left glove with him!
The situation was not improved. Not improved at all. His attacks were continuing, and now I could not reach him. I was startled to say the least.
The combination of the force of the throw, only having one hand (the throttle hand) on the handlebars, and my jerking back unfortunately put a healthy twist through my right hand and into the throttle. A healthy twist on the throttle of a Valkyrie can only have one result. Torque. This is what the Valkyrie is made for, and she is very, very good at it. The engine roared as the front wheel left the pavement. The squirrel screamed in anger. The Valkyrie screamed in ecstasy. I screamed in...well...I just plain screamed.
Now picture a large man on a huge black and chrome cruiser, dressed in jeans a slightly squirrel torn t-shirt, and only one leather glove roaring at maybe 70mph and rapidly accelerating down a quiet residential street.on one wheel and with a demonic squirrel on his back. The man and the squirrel are both screaming bloody murder.
With the sudden acceleration I was forced to put my other hand back on the handlebars and try to get control of the bike. This was leaving the mutant squirrel to his own devices, but I really did not want to crash into somebody's tree, house, or parked car. Also, I had not yet figured out how to release the throttle as my brain was just simply overloaded. I did manage to mash the back brake, but it had little affect against the massive power of the big cruiser.
About this time the squirrel decided that I was not paying sufficient attention to this very serious battle (maybe he is a Scottish attack squirrel of death), and he came around my neck and got IN my full-face helmet with me. As the faceplate closed partway and he began hissing in my face I am quite sure my screaming changed tone and intensity. It seemed to have little affect on the squirrel however. The rpms on The Dragon maxed out (I was not concerned about shifting at the moment) and her front end started to drop.
Now picture the large man on the huge black and chrome cruiser, dressed in jeans, a very ragged torn t-shirt, and wearing one leather glove, roaring at probably 80mph, still on one wheel, with a large puffy squirrel's tail sticking out his mostly closed full-face helmet. By now the screams are probably getting a little hoarse.
Finally I got the upper hand.I managed to grab his tail again, pulled him out of my helmet, and slung him to the left as hard as I could. This time it worked... sort-of. Spectacularly sort-of, so to speak.
Picture the scene. You are a cop. You and your partner have pulled off on a quiet residential street and parked with your windows down to do some paperwork.
Suddenly a large man on a huge black and chrome cruiser, dressed in jeans, a torn t-shirt flapping in the breeze, and wearing one leather glove, moving at probably 80mph on one wheel, and screaming bloody murder roars by and with all his strength throws a live squirrel grenade
directly into your police car.
I heard screams. They weren't mine...
I managed to get the big motorcycle under directional control and dropped the front wheel to the ground. I then used maximum braking and skidded to a stop in a cloud of tire smoke at the stop sign at a busy cross street.
I would have returned to fess up (and to get my glove back). I really would have. Really. But for two things. First, the cops did not seem interested or the slightest bit concerned about me at the moment. One of them was on his back in the front yard of the house they had been parked in front of and was rapidly crabbing backwards away from the patrol car. The other was standing in the street and was training a riot shotgun on the police cruiser.
So the cops were not interested in me. They often insist to "let the professionals handle it" anyway. That was one thing. The other? Well, I swear I could see the squirrel, standing in the back window of the patrol car among shredded and flying pieces of foam and upholstery, and shaking his little fist at me. I think he was shooting me the finger. That is one dangerous squirrel.
And now he has a patrol car.
I took a deep breath, turned on my turn-signal, made an easy right turn, and sedately left the neighborhood. As for my easy and slow drive home?
Screw it. Faced with a choice of 80mph cars and inattentive drivers, or the evil, demonic, attack squirrel of death...I'll take my chances with the freeway. Every time. And I'll buy myself a new pair of gloves.
~Author Unknown~
The Squirrel Grenade
I never dreamed slowly cruising through a residential neighborhood could be so incredibly dangerous! Studies have shown that motorcycling requires more decisions per second, and more sheer data processing than nearly any other common activity or sport. The reactions and accurate decision making abilities needed have been likened to the reactions of fighter pilots! The consequences of bad decisions or poor situational awareness are pretty much the same for both groups too.
Occasionally, as a rider I have caught myself starting to make bad or late decisions while riding. In flight training, my instructors called this being "behind the power curve". It is a mark of experience that when this begins to happen, the rider recognizes the situation, and more importantly, does something about it. A short break, a meal, or even a gas stop can set things right again as it gives the brain a chance to catch up.
Good, accurate, and timely decisions are essential when riding a motorcycle at least if you want to remain among the living. In short, the brain needs to keep up with the machine.
I had been banging around the roads of east Texas and as I headed back into Dallas, found myself in very heavy, high-speed traffic on the freeways.
Normally, this is not a problem, I commute in these conditions daily, but suddenly I was nearly run down by a car that decided it needed my lane more than I did. This is not normally a big deal either, as it happens around here often, but usually I can accurately predict which drivers are not paying attention and avoid them before we are even close. This one I missed seeing until it was nearly too late, and as I took evasive action I nearly broadsided another car that I was not even aware was there!
Two bad decisions and insufficient situational awareness.all within seconds. I was behind the power curve. Time to get off the freeway. I hit the next exit, and as I was in an area I knew pretty well, headed through a few big residential neighborhoods as a new route home. As I turned onto the nearly empty streets I opened the visor on my full-face helmet to help get some air I figured some slow riding through the quiet surface streets would give me time to relax, think, and regain that "edge" so frequently required when riding.
Little did I suspect.
As I passed an oncoming car, a brown furry missile shot out from under it and tumbled to a stop immediately in front of me. It was a squirrel, and must have been trying to run across the road when it encountered the car.
I really was not going very fast, but there was no time to brake or avoid it-it was that close.
I hate to run over animals.and I really hate it on a motorcycle, but a squirrel should pose no danger to me. I barely had time to brace for the impact.
Animal lovers, never fear. Squirrels can take care of themselves!
Inches before impact, the squirrel flipped to his feet. He was standing on his hind legs and facing the oncoming Valkyrie with steadfast resolve in his little beady eyes. His mouth opened, and at the last possible second, he screamed and leapt! I am pretty sure the scream was squirrel for, "Banzai!" or maybe, "Die you gravy-sucking, heathen scum!" as the leap was spectacular and he flew over the windshield of my motorcycle and impacted me squarely in the chest.
Instantly he set upon me. If I did not know better I would have sworn he brought twenty of his little buddies along for the attack. Snarling, hissing, and tearing at my clothes, he was a frenzy of activity. As I was dressed only in a light t-shirt, summer riding gloves, and jeans this was a bit of a cause for concern. This furry little tornado was doing some damage!
Picture a large man on a huge black and chrome cruiser, dressed in jeans, a t-shirt, and leather gloves puttering maybe 25mph down a quiet residential street... and in the fight of his life with a squirrel. And losing.
I grabbed for him with my left hand and managed to snag his tail. With all my strength I flung the evil rodent off the left of the bike, almost running into the right curb as I recoiled from the throw.
That should have done it. The matter should have ended right there. It really should have. The squirrel could have sailed into one of the pristinely kept yards and gone on about his business, and I could have headed home. No one would have been the wiser. But this was no ordinary squirrel. This was not even an ordinary pissed-off squirrel. This was an evil attack squirrel of death!
Somehow he caught my gloved finger with one of his little hands, and with the force of the throw swung around and with a resounding thump and an amazing impact he landed square on my back and resumed his rather anti-social and extremely distracting activities. He also managed to take my left glove with him!
The situation was not improved. Not improved at all. His attacks were continuing, and now I could not reach him. I was startled to say the least.
The combination of the force of the throw, only having one hand (the throttle hand) on the handlebars, and my jerking back unfortunately put a healthy twist through my right hand and into the throttle. A healthy twist on the throttle of a Valkyrie can only have one result. Torque. This is what the Valkyrie is made for, and she is very, very good at it. The engine roared as the front wheel left the pavement. The squirrel screamed in anger. The Valkyrie screamed in ecstasy. I screamed in...well...I just plain screamed.
Now picture a large man on a huge black and chrome cruiser, dressed in jeans a slightly squirrel torn t-shirt, and only one leather glove roaring at maybe 70mph and rapidly accelerating down a quiet residential street.on one wheel and with a demonic squirrel on his back. The man and the squirrel are both screaming bloody murder.
With the sudden acceleration I was forced to put my other hand back on the handlebars and try to get control of the bike. This was leaving the mutant squirrel to his own devices, but I really did not want to crash into somebody's tree, house, or parked car. Also, I had not yet figured out how to release the throttle as my brain was just simply overloaded. I did manage to mash the back brake, but it had little affect against the massive power of the big cruiser.
About this time the squirrel decided that I was not paying sufficient attention to this very serious battle (maybe he is a Scottish attack squirrel of death), and he came around my neck and got IN my full-face helmet with me. As the faceplate closed partway and he began hissing in my face I am quite sure my screaming changed tone and intensity. It seemed to have little affect on the squirrel however. The rpms on The Dragon maxed out (I was not concerned about shifting at the moment) and her front end started to drop.
Now picture the large man on the huge black and chrome cruiser, dressed in jeans, a very ragged torn t-shirt, and wearing one leather glove, roaring at probably 80mph, still on one wheel, with a large puffy squirrel's tail sticking out his mostly closed full-face helmet. By now the screams are probably getting a little hoarse.
Finally I got the upper hand.I managed to grab his tail again, pulled him out of my helmet, and slung him to the left as hard as I could. This time it worked... sort-of. Spectacularly sort-of, so to speak.
Picture the scene. You are a cop. You and your partner have pulled off on a quiet residential street and parked with your windows down to do some paperwork.
Suddenly a large man on a huge black and chrome cruiser, dressed in jeans, a torn t-shirt flapping in the breeze, and wearing one leather glove, moving at probably 80mph on one wheel, and screaming bloody murder roars by and with all his strength throws a live squirrel grenade
directly into your police car.
I heard screams. They weren't mine...
I managed to get the big motorcycle under directional control and dropped the front wheel to the ground. I then used maximum braking and skidded to a stop in a cloud of tire smoke at the stop sign at a busy cross street.
I would have returned to fess up (and to get my glove back). I really would have. Really. But for two things. First, the cops did not seem interested or the slightest bit concerned about me at the moment. One of them was on his back in the front yard of the house they had been parked in front of and was rapidly crabbing backwards away from the patrol car. The other was standing in the street and was training a riot shotgun on the police cruiser.
So the cops were not interested in me. They often insist to "let the professionals handle it" anyway. That was one thing. The other? Well, I swear I could see the squirrel, standing in the back window of the patrol car among shredded and flying pieces of foam and upholstery, and shaking his little fist at me. I think he was shooting me the finger. That is one dangerous squirrel.
And now he has a patrol car.
I took a deep breath, turned on my turn-signal, made an easy right turn, and sedately left the neighborhood. As for my easy and slow drive home?
Screw it. Faced with a choice of 80mph cars and inattentive drivers, or the evil, demonic, attack squirrel of death...I'll take my chances with the freeway. Every time. And I'll buy myself a new pair of gloves.
~Author Unknown~
surlier than thou
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Rob the Wop
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Rian Jackson
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- Location: In Rob's Head
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Rian Jackson
- Posts: 3903
- Joined: Fri Sep 19, 2003 4:30 pm
- Location: In Rob's Head
dude, chill, it's a fuckin' story.stuart wrote:cites?Studies have shown that motorcycling requires more decisions per second, and more sheer data processing than nearly any other common activity or sport.
you're supposed to enjoy the squirrel grenades.
though i'd believe it what it says about decision making....
surlier than thou
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Rian Jackson
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Rob the Wop
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Subjective. What do you consider 'decision making'?stuart wrote: though I'd disagree with the decision making part
If you take into account the automatic balance corrections and body positioning- those things you take for granted when riding either a motorcycle or bicycle- you could likely make a case. You don't have to worry about these things in a plane, yet you don't have to consiously think about them after you've mastered a bike. This does involve constant split-second descisions and movements of all parts of your body.
[b]The other, other white meat.[/b]
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Rob the Wop
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No medals, but I will be bringing quite an 'interesting mix' of distilled spirits for sampling. I'll make sure to save you some.Rian Jackson wrote: I AMUSED ROB!! I AMUSED ROB!!!
do i get a medal at the M&G?
i have fulfilled my Purpose.
I'm going 'spectator mode' this year to see if I can bring back some of the feelings I had my first year. No expectations at all, wander to a fro, making of it what I will. Let it mold me. I will be at the M&G though. If I can't bring back some of the feelings, then I will be a jaded post-burner forever more.
[b]The other, other white meat.[/b]
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Rian Jackson
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...and may you be blessed with a few amazing surprises...Rob the Wop wrote:No medals, but I will be bringing quite an 'interesting mix' of distilled spirits for sampling. I'll make sure to save you some.Rian Jackson wrote: I AMUSED ROB!! I AMUSED ROB!!!
do i get a medal at the M&G?
i have fulfilled my Purpose.
I'm going 'spectator mode' this year to see if I can bring back some of the feelings I had my first year. No expectations at all, wander to a fro, making of it what I will. Let it mold me. I will be at the M&G though. If I can't bring back some of the feelings, then I will be a jaded post-burner forever more.
surlier than thou
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theCryptofishist
- Posts: 40312
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- Location: In Exile
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Rian Jackson
- Posts: 3903
- Joined: Fri Sep 19, 2003 4:30 pm
- Location: In Rob's Head
OK, BOT:
So I took this animal behavior class in college. The prof says there is no altruistic behavior in the animal world; I studiously put this in my notes for later test regurgitation.
A few weeks later I'm driving along the road between O'Neals & Bass Lake in the Sierras, the really curvy part, when I come around a corner and see a squirrel, freshly whacked, laying in the middle of my lane.
Next to the deceased is a perfectly fine squirrel, perhaps its mate, desparately trying to drag it to safety before it gets mashed some more.
Aha! Says I, altruistic animal behavior!
When I get back to class the next week I can't wait to tell the prof. He smiles, wryly, and says, "Well, you know, squirrels are omnivorous." Arrgh, shot down.
Thanks for your story, Rian. Looks like squirrels even like fresh motorcyclist!
So I took this animal behavior class in college. The prof says there is no altruistic behavior in the animal world; I studiously put this in my notes for later test regurgitation.
A few weeks later I'm driving along the road between O'Neals & Bass Lake in the Sierras, the really curvy part, when I come around a corner and see a squirrel, freshly whacked, laying in the middle of my lane.
Next to the deceased is a perfectly fine squirrel, perhaps its mate, desparately trying to drag it to safety before it gets mashed some more.
Aha! Says I, altruistic animal behavior!
When I get back to class the next week I can't wait to tell the prof. He smiles, wryly, and says, "Well, you know, squirrels are omnivorous." Arrgh, shot down.
Thanks for your story, Rian. Looks like squirrels even like fresh motorcyclist!
"Yes, but is it art?" "No, Art is over there, on the couch."
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Rian Jackson
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- Location: In Rob's Head
hey there, crap, i missed this altogether!stuart wrote:stuart, running on way too much attitude, is suitably chastened.rian, running on way too little sleep, is mildly chagrined.
...
Beers all around.
hey,
ever play Bartok's 4th?
not that one, no. though i have toyed with some Bartok viola solo work... and then there's some other stuff that i played so long ago i can't remember which one it is. It gets like that, after awhile. Personal favorite?
surlier than thou
when I was in music school I saw a pro-quartet perfom this whirlwind maniac of a piece. Now, I generally don't go in for the less accessable shit but seeing these 4 women rip into this music was awe inspiring. By the second movement I thought the first was gonna put the seconds eye out with all the strands flying off of her bow.Personal favorite?
It left an impresssion.
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Rian Jackson
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- Joined: Fri Sep 19, 2003 4:30 pm
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Nice! What were you in music school for, and where?stuart wrote:when I was in music school I saw a pro-quartet perfom this whirlwind maniac of a piece. Now, I generally don't go in for the less accessable shit but seeing these 4 women rip into this music was awe inspiring. By the second movement I thought the first was gonna put the seconds eye out with all the strands flying off of her bow.Personal favorite?
It left an impresssion.
I'm a big fan of the Russians, but Mozart Requiem always has a special place for me. We played the Bruch violin concerto as part of a concert with the Orkestra Nazzjonali ta Malta. I could watch that soloist play for hours....
Tchaik 5..... mmmm...
surlier than thou
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Rian Jackson
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I used to hate playing Mozart. I remember dinking around on piano, teaching myself to play on simplified verions of Mozart, among others, and it seemed so passionless.stuart wrote:I don't dig Mozart, that is, until Mozart digs Bach. The Requiem is a perfect example of the transformation.Mozart Requiem
During undergrad years 4-8 I was in school for composition and electronic performance. Finished out at NYU.
Then his requiem rocked my world and continues to.
Of course, i don't know about just listening to it. Because each time i hear i am playing it again, with a chorus or hundreds swelling behind....
We used to do Messiah with a chorus of about 700, i think, and some of the most talented undergrad vocalists. Boring as hell to play, but there's something about those forces all coming together....
ok, so you caught me. i really miss having a symphony.
surlier than thou
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Rian Jackson
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