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I have posted two true and one false story.
Readers have to pick the false story, leaving their guess in the comments.
On Monday, Ausgut 15
I’ll post the correct response.
LOTD: Planarity — So addicted.
QOTD: “Give me what I want or I’ll hold my breath until I turn gay.” -TLD “in character”
During one of my summers home, I got tired of sitting around being unemployed. I went around on a job hunt for a little while before settling on a data entry job at a medical lab. This happened to be the medical lab where my mom used to work, but I totally got that job on my own… ;)
The specimens arrived at the lab in boxes on the conveyor belt. They were unloaded and sent down another conveyor belt for the lab technicians to sort and label. Then, the forms and labels came to me to be entered into the database. It was pretty mundane work and there was no internet or games to play when there was a lull. Most of the time I would just bring a book and read for half the day and work the other half. The daytime shift was usually the slowest, so I was the only data entry clerk there. I would talk with the lab technicians or go around trying to do other people’s work, but I got in trouble because I wasn’t “qualified” to feed papers into their scanner or something like that.
The specimens that came through were usually only one of a few different types: blood, stool, urine. Every once in a while they have something else in the mix, like hair, bile or other fluids. But one day, there was a big stir when something came out of the box at the first conveyor belt. It was definitely something out of the ordinary because people actually seemed excited about seeing what it was. You really can’t say that about a stool sample. This sample was in a medium-sized mason jar. Now, that by itself is weird for a medical lab. Samples are supposed to come in vials or hermetically sealed bags or something. Not in mason jars. But that aside, it was obviously the plant inside the mason jar that was attracting the attention. One of the supervisors noticed the commotion and had to get up to the front and take care of that sample herself. I guess, there was a possibility that someone might try to steal it? Anyway, I can’t confirm or deny the contents of the jar, since I didn’t see the results after it was tested. But it seemed pretty obvious to the people trying to get their hands on the jar that it was filled with weed.
In college, I was a member of an engineering team that designed and built a human-powered submarine. It was basically a fiber-glass hull with some bike parts inside for propulsion and controls (it was, of course, much more complicated than that… right…). The majority of the members on the team were ocean engineering students, but we also had some other people heard about us from friends or saw around and stuff. There were aerospace engineers, mechanical engineers, and some math/sciencey people.
The process of designing the sub had us split into different sub-teams, but when it came to construction, everyone helped out. The largest part of the build was the hull. This required a large mold, which we special ordered the last year I was there to work on the sub. In previous years, a plug was made and then the sub built around that. Every year, working on the sub, there were accidents and all kinds of minor “incidents.” But this particular year, we went above and beyond.
The mold that we had made was a female mold. It had an indentation in a large piece of foam in the shape of the hull. We would lay the glass in the mold and just pop it out when it had set. This was better than the male mold we had used previously because the majority of the imperfections in the glass we laid would be on the interior instead of the exterior, resulting in less time needed for sanding.
Every year, there was a tradition of writing our names and the lyrics to Gilligan’s Island in the interior of the sub after it was done, painted, and ready for competition. But this year, a certain member of the team decided that he wanted to be cooler than the rest of us and leave his hand-print in the sub. Now, if you know anything about fiberglass, you’ll know that this is a horrible idea. Instead of just leaving a cool handprint in the sub, he got his hand stuck into the hull. The resin we used didn’t really set that fast, but he had waited until it was mostly set before sticking his hand in it. I guess to leave a better imprint. It backfired though, and stuck to his skin so we weren’t able to pull his hand off.
We ended up cutting a square of glass out of the hull before it was completely set and took him next door to the EMS station. Luckily there were people there and they had some kind of solvent to get most of the goop off the guy’s hand. That piece of the hull was ruined though. Which meant that this hull we had spent weeks getting ready now had a hand-sized hole in it. However, being the clever kids that we were, we worked that into our sub as a “feature.” We made a new square that was separate from the rest of the hull and hinged it in place on the bottom side of the sub. This was our new water release hatch. It actually came in really handy at the competition, so it all worked out.The Omen full movie download About Last Night… movie
When I was living down in Blacksburg, I was living in an apartment with some friends for a couple years. We were on the top floor, so we didn’t get much noise. Everyone in that area was a college student, so we were polite and said hi, but I never really met any of my neighbors. It was almost a year into living in one apartment before I discovered that I knew one of the girls living in my building on the ground floor.
In any case, there was one night when I was back in my room, which was adjacent to one of the rooms in the apartment next to ours. There was a ruckus coming from the other side, but I couldn’t quite tell if it was a party or something else. A few minutes later, I hear a loud thud and can feel the shared wall shake. Hm… It sounded like someone was just thrown against the wall. Maybe something tipped over..? No, there it was again. For the next 20 minutes, my roommate and I could hear them moving from room to room in their apartment fighting. Still, it was through a wall and there was other stuff going on. Maybe it’s not a fight. Maybe it’s a loud party. It was a weekend night, after all.
Then, we heard them start yelling. One was yelling at the other to get up. Someone else responded and sounded like he was crying, begging the other to stop. Uh… Time to call the cops. Told them we had no idea what was going on over there, but it sounded a lot like fighting. It might just be some people being loud, but if they had an officer in the area, maybe they could come check on them. A few minutes later, a patrol car pulls up just as the guys next door start settling down. They claim they’re brothers and they just had a disagreement. Right. The officers escort one of the guys to his car and that was that.Armageddon film
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