Q-Tip apprehensions

Have you ever noticed that there’s an direct warning on a box of Q-Tips not to insert them into your ear canal?

Start singing "Jaws" theme song in your head ... now. Pic from Tamakisono on Flickr.

I believe there are many oddities wrapped into this single fact.

First of all: Who would have thought that a docile container of cotton-covered sticks no longer than my index finger would need a caution label.

But other than that, let’s examine methods of ear wax removal.

Now I remember hearing stories about my Grandpa Gene, and how he used scissors to dig out that amber substance. To me, sticking something sharp and pointy with cutting as a generally accepted reason for usage into an orifice that must lead somehow into or close to one’s brain seems like a bad idea.

Sticking a soft, fluffy, fits-into-my-ear-like-a-glove item into that same hole … well, it just seems natural.

Warning or no warning … I’m going in for the wax. And I’m using a Q-Tip to do it.

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Boulder neighbors

I’m really have no idea what about this spot made my neighbor think it might be a good place to park:

Direct your attention to the fire hydrant ...
Now note the placement ... in the middle of the exit route ... the only exit route.

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Text messaging is evil … sort of

Need more proof that text messaging is a passive-aggressive form of communication?Looks like it might be relaxing, huh? "Might" being the key word there. Thanks garycycles on Flickr.

Here’s a for-instance for you.

Consider Mike who opted to warn with his roommate textually, instead of verbally, last night about the sprinkler system around their new apartment.

That choice resulted William’s disturbance this morning around 5 a.m. by a stream of water and what I can only imagine was a hurried exit from his hammock.

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Read this now because I may die soon

I’ve been going through old water and sanitation records this morning for my gig with I News.
As I’m sifting through old files filled with piles of papers, I lick my fingers in order to peruse the sheets more quickly.
Which makes me wonder: I’m sure this isn’t the first time somebody has looked through these files. And likely, they were using the same finger-lick flipping method that I am.
Which means I may well contract some wacked out disease that’s been lying dormant and unassuming for the past 15 years.
Awesome.
The things I do in the name of journalism.

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An exercise for your brain

OK, today’s “Challenge of the Day” is to think of one self-defining scenario you’ve walked through in the past week.

The one I threw away was more on the fuzzy side--not so much worm-eaten--but you get the idea. Thanks to whologwhy on Flickr.

For example: I accepted a friend’s offering of some cherries on Sunday (I love free stuff); brought them to work on Monday (I avoid eating out, but need snacks); disposed of the single  molded cherry on Tuesday (I try to eat healthfully); saved the rest to eat until Wednesday (I always leave the best for last) and then, while writing an article (I’m a multi-tasker), happily munched on the fruit assuming that even the ones that tasted a bit off probably won’t make me sick (I’m an optimistic risk-taker).

OK, your turn.

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