From Best Week Ever, via Defamer. Sexiest Man Alive Matthew McConaughey uses his super yoga powers in an attempt to destroy the Death Star and free the galaxy from the cruel yoke of the Imperial Forces.
Category Archives: Sports
headline o’ the day: New power workout machine is a giant $9,000 vibrator
Thanks to Fark for that one.
The real story‘s far less interesting, which is sad because I wasted a half-hour of my life I’ll never see again gathering up all my bottles to take back for the deposit. I have almost enough.
All asides and italics here are from the original article.
(Quick aside: How creepy is the guy in the pic? And the girl looks a little too happy to be a in a gym setting.)
There’s a new fitness machine causing a stir in England, thanks in part to Madonna. The Power
Plate is a workout machine that consists of a vibrating platform you stand on and do light stretches and squats for 15 minutes, three times a week. Apparently there is something in the added vibration that stimulates the muscles and causes them to tire faster than a traditional workout, a chain reaction that Madonna claims causes her physique to remain toned. (Doesn’t she work out 8 hours a day? –Editors)
note to self
Check the moon forecast before skating after dark.
Avoid, thereby, embarassing conversations with rhododendrons and skunk collisions.
Human Space Invaders
I have to say, these guys are better than I ever was. But then, there are 67 of them! Personally, I’d have differentiated between space invaders and our guys in the credits, but that’s just my Manichean side poking out.
From BoingBoing:
The Streaker Guy
Date: Monday, November 11, 2002 2:31 AM
I was shopping at Sunrise Market, as I am wont to do when I need food, which is usually, so there I was on the outside around the corner, where the food is all marked with a red dot in some kind of ink that just can’t be good for you, to tell the cashier it is old and cheap. I imagine all the undotted peppers and cabbages on the inside look down on their dotty relations, but maybe they don’t, knowing that in the fullness of time they’ll either be chosen by some happy shopper, stolen by a junkie, or end up dotty themselves and so think: there but by the grace of God go I. Maybe. I mean it’s possible, right? Who the hell knows what broccoli thinks?
So there I am, looking at the zucchini of all things and comparing, because you don’t want to get stuck with a limp zucchini and even among the dotty ones there’s still a lot of choice. Just check out the bar at Dick’s on Dick’s at closing time. So I’m checking out the zucchini and someone runs past me at top speed and whips into the side door between the strawberries and the avocados, the one that leads to the meat. And I continue merrily and obliviously shopping along the side, strolling slowly until I reach an impasse: a Filipina, laughing her head off. Really, it looks like she will shake something loose that may be hard to put back on if she keeps it up.
“Did you see?”
“See what?”
“The NAKED GUY! AHAHAHAHAHAHA! He ran in there! HAHAHAHAHAHA! HEEHEEHEEHEE!” and so on.
“Naked guy?”
“Yes, hahahaha,” I think she finds my obliviousness even funnier than the naked guy. “He was all naked and he ran very quickly in the door.”
By this point even the grim and silent grizzled men who sweep up all day around the market are doubled up with their hands on their knees, whooping and hawing and having the time of their lives, or at least the last ten years.
At this point he returns.
THE RETURN OF THE NAKED GUY
Screams of laughter come from the front of the store, as he shoots out the front door and comes back along the side. We are special; we get two showings for the price of one. Well, it is the sale aisle.
As he runs past me he yells, “I’m the Streaker Guy!”
and who could argue with that?
raincoaster 