Deleterious and Delirious

In a 1993 PC Professional article, columnist Lisa Holst wrote about the ubiquitous lists of “facts” that were circulating via e-mail and how readily they were accepted as truthful by gullible recipients. To demonstrate her point, Holst offered her own made-up list of equally ridiculous “facts,” among which was the statistic cited above about the average person’s swallowing eight spiders per year, which she took from a collection of common misbeliefs printed in a 1954 book on insect folklore. In a delicious irony, Holst’s propagation of this false “fact” has spurred it into becoming one of the most widely-circulated bits of misinformation to be found on the Internet. [x]

Source 

https://www.reddit.com/r/RBI/comments/zx9eo/who_is_lisa_holst_of_pc_professional_and_where_is/

The owner of the drone was so impressed by the brilliant attack that he suggested organizing a competition for bringing down “dragons” with short spears next year.

It’s not fun trying to mock a clown

what am I supposed to make fun of

his big red nose

his floppy shoes

his tiny car

Would you eat it? Yes, this is all food and it moves thanks to “synthetic biology.”

me :

i’d just come from the feed store for lizard food (ie: bugs), and it was like 95F out so they were slowly being smothered to death in my backpack. so when the clerk, who i’d overheard was only on her second day working there, gave me my fancy sundress in a bag way too big for it, i pulled out two dozen crickets in a plastic bag and a tub full of mealworms from my pack and set them gently on the bag so they could breathe better till i got home.

this girl’s eyes go wide and she looks imploringly back at the equally startled-looking manager helping her through the transaction, and i realize that this might look a little weird to folks who aren’t reptile keepers. so, instead of doing the logical thing and explaining that i’m feeding leopard geckos, i sorta chuckled and shrugged apologetically, and just said “dinner, y’know?”

for the briefest of moments, there was an awkward silence so sweaty and suffocating you could drown in it, and then, in true daytime comedy fashion,

the fucking crickets started chirping.