graduate school is a veritable cornucopia of knowledge. were i to relay my learnings to you, dear reader, in all their dazzling complexity, your brittle skull would swell and surely rupture. vast expanses of knowledge such as mine must be slowly digested over many weeks. you know, shoot seven thousand needles full of heroin between your toes all at once and the show's over. however, over a lifetime the results can fashion even the healthiest square into the very model of junkydom. which brings us to this week's lesson, the first installment in a continuing segment: "shit i learned in grad school":
episode 1: burrito experiment
i proudly count myself amongst the cynics on most everything. for instance: i don't believe in salmonella because if it existed i would have had it by now. however, after conducting a 3-week experiment i have scientifically proven that burrito consumption results in exponential increases in flatulence. during the first week i ate 2 lunch burritos and split the other three between chinese food and a vegetable sandwich. farting was moderate to heavy-at-times. during week two, my control week, i ate no burritos whatsover, but chinese, the sandwich, soup, and a sandwich from a different place. farting was light and breezy. the air was fresh and clean. during week three, i ate a burrito daily. farting was heavy-to-thunderous.
suggested future experiment: why does burrito consumption increase flatulence primarily during classes or at the workplace? hypothesis: because there is a god and it has a sense of humor. alternate hypothesis: because the beans have legions of tiny omnipotent bean-gods in them that lash out in furious anger at work-related activities.
we use the scientific method in graduate school.
episode 2: Y fashion
guess what? here's something else i learned: it's not cool to wear a bandana-cum-headband at the Y. it's even less cool to wear said headband and jogging pants you just put through the heavy dry cycle against your better judgment and which now resemble capri pants and may or may not cradle your manparts suggestively.
oh yes, and i did use the elliptical machine. also not cool.
you should have seen the stares. guess i forgot my carefully tailored addidas track pants and gray michigan t-shirt, you cocks.
next week i'm wearing a green accountant visor, my lickety jackbarn t-shirt, the sport-capris, black socks and the sandals my sister got me for christmas that have bottle openers on the bottom. and i'll use the stair machine backwards. also, in lieu of ipod, a boombox playing the macarena in a gold chain around my neck.
Wednesday, March 07, 2007
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9 comments:
I tried to use an elliptical machine recently, too! It was a nightmare! A NIGHTMARE!
I kept crouching and I don't know why.
the elliptical is clearly a tool of lesser gymgoers like you and i, who are mocked from behind by the mass of hipster-weightlifters like middleschoolers caught with superman briefs in the locker room.
you have certainly lost no coolness points for not being able to work the thing. mastering the ellipticizer is akin to being crowned high priest of a poop sandwich.
but i was proud of my elliptical mastery. hands-free, even, and i almost never fall off.
c.c., please keep detailed records of your accountant's visor's visit to the gym.
the elliptical I can handle- it's that damn step machine with the pedals that makes me look like a fish jumping rope.
the step machine is one of the few that lie lower on the coolness ladder than the elliptical.
kudos to you, skirt.
and jeanne: consider this a formal elliptical challenge. there can be only one high priest of the poop sandwich.
name your terms jeanne- it sounds as if CC is calling for a elliptical off...will we be expected to perform tricks?
seriously guys, i don't think it's worth your time to even joke about this, i am so much better than you at the elliptical. i can ride it no hands - in fact i NEver use my hands anymore, and sometimes i Close my eyes! what?! yes! when i try to go backwards i look like a hobbled new-born calf, but who cares - going backwards is for sucks.
I bought some excellent new white tennis shoes, some black mesh shorts, wore my HRC gay t-shirt, and with no trouble whatsoever, looked just like a G.
Works every time. Haven't lost my touch.
I also still turn bright red and sweat a lot when I excercise. To date, however, I've never touched an elliptical machine but instead do jumping jacks by the weight sets and count loudly.
No-one comes out and says anything, but I know they appreciate the good example.
oh, wait, you can't go backwards...I've got this in the bag...I can go backwards and still mess with my ipod..bring it
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