piss explosion posted:

I found this one in the archives by accident looking for another STDH:

quote:

Like most goons, I have a love/hate relationship with movie theaters. For every great composed, respectful audience, you get three filled with loud, obnoxious, so called "urban" types who bring their screaming bratty kids to movies totally inappropriate for their age group. Look, The Dark Knight is PG-13 for a reason. But occasionally something really funny that stays with you happens. Whether it's a stray witticism that cracks the entire theater up, Mo'Quuesha slipping on popcorn and ruining her hair that she just "got did", or a wacky mishap with a projectionist who puts the reels in the wrong order, this is the thread for it!

Here's my story. You may recall that in the summer of 1998, a movie called Godzilla came out. Now, as a big fan of the original Japanese ゴジラ series, I was pretty psyched (Keep in mind this was still prePhantom Menace, when you didn't have to fear getting a fresh new serving of childhood Rape Sauce everytime you went into a movie theater). My friend Carter and I went opening day, and you could taste the excitement in the air. However, once the movie began, we knew we were in for trouble. LOT'S of it. Terrible acting. Garbage effects. Retarded characters. Everyone knows how loving lovely that movie was. About 40 minutes in, I was literally shaking with rage. How could they do this to my favorite movie character? I had had enough. In one scene, some army guy refers to Godzilla as an "overgrown lizard". When Carter and I heard that line, we turned to each other and shouted "HE TURNED ME INTO A NEWT!" in unison. The entire theater cracked up, and from that point on the screening turned into a total MST3K-style "riff-fest", with people tossing out jokes and insults at all the reatrded stuff in the movie. I was still kinda pissed I wasted $14 to see that pile of poo poo, but at least everyone else had a sense of humor about it. Afterwards, a girl pulled me aside and said that my jokes were the only that made the movie watchable for her. And they say nerds never get the girl.

Danaru posted:

Jerry Cotton posted:

http://imgur.com/gallery/EXe4W

TheMadMilkman posted:

This one makes me laugh every time I see it, which puts it a good deal ahead of most other stdh.

It amazes me that anyone can see it as anything other than a somewhat funny joke.

life is killing me posted:

Sure, she exists.

She just has BPD and anorexia, no self-esteem, and maybe a drug problem

walrusman posted:

Nine or ten.

vv eh this guy is probably closer vv

gschmidl posted:

Stop The Drug Hate

Horror_Business posted:

Is there anything improv can't do? posted:

I was walking to work and passed a guy smoking a cigarette outside a bar when he leaned in and loud-whispered in my face, “Hey gorgeous.” Ssssssmooch!

My usual response out of safety is to be Boring Grey Rock, but this time I didn’t feel like taking it. After a few paces my instinct told me it was the right moment and situation to turn my heel, walk right up to the guy and put him in his place.

And it worked.

Let me explain “my improvisational process” . I was wearing shoes with a high, stacked heel that make a lot of noise when I strike my heel. Knowing that my hair gets big and bouncy when I walk with a particular strut, I imagined myself as an animal that was posturing or fluffing its feathers when ready to defend itself. I kept a cold death stare on him, got right to his face and whispered in a slow, murderous tone through gritted teeth:

“Inappropriate, buddy.”

The guy collapsed his shoulders and recoiled, shot his eyes to the ground, tossed his cigarette and shuffled backwards into the bar.

Over-analytical I know, and it certainly won't work in every situation. But I felt so gangsta putting some old dance and acting tools to good use and setting a boundary in an intentional, composed manner.

chitoryu12 posted:

Manic Pixie Dream Girls exist, but most of them tend to be utterly insufferable after a while. Their quirkiness and passion ends up revealing that they've been completely incapable of growing up and can't hold down an adult job to save their lives (which means they're not unlikely to have debts or trouble paying rent).

quote:

Was thinking the same thing. Years ago at a horrible place I worked, where we were developing web apps, and the IT Admin (and staff) insisted on changing our network settings when we weren't looking and screwing up our development machines, they decided to do an audit to make sure we had no unlicensed software. Fair enough, not a problem, but at this point I wasn't about making their life easy, but as hard as possible. So remoted into their Remote Server (we had a remote login that we used for... can't remember, probably email so they didn't have to set it up properly). Basically, I was running on their hardware/environment in a window from my own machine. Sure enough, they waddled over to my machine, sat down, asked for my username/password "can't you log in as admin to that machine? not sure I've got the admin rights to me own machine after you were here last" "oh yeah, good idea" so logs into my machine (well, the remote connection) as admin. Downloads an unlicensed copy of an audit tool (which made me laugh), and let it run. I wandered off for a coffee to leave them to it.
10 minutes later, I get a call into one of the bosses' office (not my boss, he was away, probably why this other boss was doing a surprise audit as they loved to wind each other up and do their best to destroy the business).
HR was there too, someone I'd bumped into a few times in my quest to get stuff done and her job in the company to stop anyone getting any work done apart from filling in pointless forms. She was sat there with a frown, glaring at me.
other Boss "After an audit of the network and your machine, we found somethings that should never be on a company provided computer. What's all this software/games/mp3's/porn on your machine?"
"oh, that's not my machine"
"This was just printed, don't try and wriggle out of it, here's the proof!" /passes over the print out of all the stuff found, with the servername at the top (and that it was an unlicensed copy of the software still).
"That's not my machine, that looks like the... remote exchange server?"
"Says here.. oh, wait, you're right.. what happened here?"
"Don't know, I was logged into the admin staff's machine using remote server, he wanted to do something, so I left him to it as I went for a cuppa, what's up? whoa, this is some sick stuff here, what's all THIS about"
Looked like it was his own staff had setup some place they didn't think anyone would ever see, but logging in as themselves... ha.
But... yeah, app'ing for a tech job, no-way am I letting someone log in and install software on my machine unless maybe it's with a VM, and I'd be vid capturing the VM session as it ran to cover my arse.

Horror_Business posted:

Gambor posted:

He's saying that there was a machine set up for people to remote into, and that he was logged into it when they ran the audit, thereby fooling them into auditing it rather than his system. And the remote system was loaded down with illicit stuff, and that nobody along the chain read the report title before calling him in for the meeting about it, and that the people had been using their own personally identifiable logins to install all this stuff.

ibntumart posted:

chitoryu12 posted:

Manic Pixie Dream Girls exist, but most of them tend to be utterly insufferable after a while. Their quirkiness and passion ends up revealing that they've been completely incapable of growing up and can't hold down an adult job to save their lives (which means they're not unlikely to have debts or trouble paying rent).

piss explosion posted:

I found this one in the archives by accident looking for another STDH:

goose willis posted:

And the judge was.. Albert Einstein

GreenMetalSun posted:

Danaru posted:

I would love to hear these people define the word "hacking"

CROWS EVERYWHERE posted:

What is Common Core and why will Americans on social media not shut up about it

Zero One posted:

American parents are threatened by their children's better understanding of math.

CROWS EVERYWHERE posted:

Do they have to learn BOMDAS so they can work out those Facebook """"riddles""" like "what is the answer to 3+3x3-3÷3 (90% of people get it wrong!)"

Zero One posted:

PEMDAS?

CROWS EVERYWHERE posted:

Do they have to learn BOMDAS so they can work out those Facebook """"riddles""" like "what is the answer to 3+3x3-3÷3 (90% of people get it wrong!)"

Trebek posted:

What is the answer?

quote:

Mnemonics are often used to help students remember the rules, but the rules taught by the use of acronyms can be misleading. In the United States the acronym PEMDAS is common. It stands for Parentheses, Exponents, Multiplication, Division, Addition, Subtraction. PEMDAS is often expanded to "Please Excuse My Dear Aunt Sally", with the first letter of each word creating the acronym PEMDAS.[7] Canada and New Zealand use BEDMAS, standing for Brackets, Exponents, Division, Multiplication, Addition, Subtraction. Most common in the UK and Australia[11] are BODMAS meaning "B"rackets, "O"f or "O"rder, "D"ivision, "M"ultiplication, "A"ddition and "S"ubtraction in Nigeria and some other West African countries and BIDMAS. In some English speaking countries, Parentheses may be called Brackets, or symbols of inclusion and Exponents may be called either Indices, Powers or Orders, which have the same precedence as Roots or Radicals. Since multiplication and division are of equal precedence, M and D are often interchanged, leading to such acronyms as BOMDAS. The original order of operations in some countries was BODMAS, which stands for Brackets, Orders or pOwers, Division, Multiplication, Addition, Subtraction. The O is sometimes associated with Of. This mnemonic was common until exponentials were added into the mnemonic.

Trebek posted:

What is the answer?

chitoryu12 posted:

11

FrozenVent posted:

5

quote:

This morning, after an agreeable breakfast of poached eggs on toast, I sallied forth to my local branch of B&Q, the well known 'DIY' and garden store. I often pop in to see what plants they have in stock, and thought I would do as such before commencing my writing for the day. Now, whilst I enjoy perusing the small shrubs, cottage garden perennials, alpines and herbs, this otherwise pleasant experience is usually tarnished a little by the piped music that is played throughout the store and indeed outside in the gardening department - partly because said music is played a little too loud, but mainly because I find the choice of music played quite disagreeable.

During my visit this morning the music seemed even more irritating and unwelcome than usual - so much so in fact that I became unable to concentrate on choosing which plants I might wish to purchase. After losing interest in weighing up the pros and cons of buying either a honeysuckle or a rambling rose to grow up a particular spot on the garden fence, I decided to leave the store. However, at that moment a young man who looked like he might be a junior manager of some kind walked into the gardening department, and so instead of leaving I resolved to have words with this chap about my displeasure with B&Q's musical policy.

"Ah! I say there! Young man! Are you a manager?"

"Yes sir" he replied, "I'm the deputy manager of this store".

To me he seemed a little young to be employed in such an elevated position, being quite baby-faced in appearance, and sporting the kind of spiky, off-kilter hairstyle so beloved by today's youth (yet which gives them the appearance of storm damaged sea urchins). The badge pinned to his shirt confirmed, however, that he was indeed the deputy manager, and so I proceeded to state my case.

"Right. Well, without wishing to sound too critical of your otherwise sound establishment, I wish to register a complaint with you regarding the music that is played in this store. Not only is it a little too loud and intrusive, the choice of songs and artistes is in my opinion poor. It seems to mostly consist of either bland, vapid, irritating pop numbers, or else even blander male singer-songwriter fellows and their depressing, pointless whining".

"Oh" he replied, looking a little crestfallen, "well I'm sorry that the music is not to your taste. I will pass on your complaint to the rest of the management team, and if there are any more complaints about the volume we will certainly look into turning it down slightly. I'm not sure we can do much about the choice of music though I'm afraid - we choose it specifically to appeal to as wide a cross section of our customers as possible. We can't please everyone all the time though unfortunately!".

He made this last point in a light-hearted, conciliatory tone of voice, though did not seem to fully take on board my issues with the choice of music played. I pressed on with my complaint.

"Hmmm. Well young man, far be it from me to question the musical tastes of the wider public, but I refuse to believe that many people can have a pleasant time browsing through the potted plants whilst being forced to listen to such depressing and irritating music. Who, for example, is this being played at the moment?".

"That's James Morrison" he said, rather defensively, "he's a very popular singer-songwriter. I've got the CD case on me here".

I inspected the CD sleeve, which contained a picture of an amiable enough looking young man with a shaggy mop of hair. The song currently playing by the aforementioned Mr Morrison seemed though to offend both my mind and my body, and somehow began to make me feel a little off colour.

"Well, I'm sure he's a decent and nice enough young chap. His music however is giving me indigestion. I came to your store this morning with a view to perhaps purchase some plants, not to compromise my constitution - yet this is the effect the piped music in this store is having. Now may I suggest to you that if you really must play music throughout the store, it be of a considerably higher quality than what is currently offered, and it also be somewhat more appropriate if it is to soundtrack the relaxed perusal of plants".

The young deputy manager appeared to be getting a little uncomfortable with being criticised in this manner, and asked me what music I would consider more fitting for them to play in the store (perhaps as a way of bringing our conversation to a quick conclusion).

"Well young man, Britain is an island of gardeners and fine gardens, and Britain has also produced many great composers who have through their music expressed their love of landscape and nature. To me the two go rather well together, so I would suggest you play some Vaughan Williams, some Elgar, and perhaps some Frank Bridge or Arnold Bax. Such music would not only complement the act of buying horticultural goods but perhaps even elevate it to the level of a purer artistic contemplation of beauty and the natural world".

He looked at me a little perplexed, and seemed unsure how to respond. I continued.

"Alternatively, if you really wanted to play some pop music, then you can't do much better than The Kinks. Now they were excellent songwriters, and in my opinion one of the best bands from the 1960s".

"Oh right" - he seemed a little surer about this suggestion - "Well we don't have anything by The Kinks, but we do have a Best of The Beatles CD which we occasionally play".

"Yes" I replied, "that would be an improvement. The Beatles are ok - I met them once, as it happens - though for me The Kinks were always the superior band.......".

I momentarily drifted away, remembering events in my life in the 1960s. The deputy manager took the opportunity to end our conversation.

"Right - well thank you for bringing your complaint to our attention - I'll go and try and find the Beatles CD and see if we can get it played for you. Ok, thank you sir, bye bye".

And off he went, not looking back. I waited in the gardening section of my local branch of B&Q to see if anything would happen. I did not hear any songs by The Beatles. Nor did I see the deputy manager again. After about half an hour it began to rain a little, though I continued to wait for a while longer whilst pretending to inspect the honeysuckles and the roses that I'd long since lost interest in, and wished that I'd remembered to bring an umbrella.

After forty-five minutes I decided to leave, feeling fed up and a little defeated. As I walked through the store towards the exit a song came on that grabbed my attention, and I was a little surprised that it had as it seemed to be a loud modern pop number. It did have however a very catchy beat, and I found myself walking in a slightly rhythmic, almost dancing fashion as I neared the checkouts. In no more than a minute this song had cheered me considerably, so I was intrigued to find out who it was by. I asked a lady at the checkout if she knew who the artiste was.

"It's Janet Jackson" she replied, "The song's called 'What Have You Done For Me Lately', though you can probably work that out from the lyrics! It's a few years old this song, I remember being at school in the 80s when it came out".

I thanked her, and walked to the exit, though before leaving I waited for the song to end, tapping my feet, and tried hard not to appear like I was enjoying it too much! I then walked home whistling the tune and with a spring in my step. I didn't purchase any plants today, though I have perhaps expanded my musical horizons a little - and the strange thing is I have B&Q to thank for that.

Butt Detective posted:

While trying to find details for a lyric-less song not on iTunes that I'd picked up with Shazam, I stumbled across this old blog post.