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Renewed Gravity Research Could Soon Yield Results
t482 writes "Dr. Michelle Thaller has a nice article describing the current thoughts on gravity. Why is it so weak? Detecting gravity waves has turned into a bit of a cottage industry. "We are close," says MIT physicist Rainer Weiss, a pioneer in gravity wave research for more than 30 years. "I think sometime in the next two or three years we will see something.""
I was sitting there pondering if I should fart. My ass was percolating something fierce. It was a hard, coprolitc shit earlier, hard and tearing at the rectal walls. I thought I cleared my colon like a dog on Ex-Lax. I was thinking, the percolating bubbling brown latex paint like mixture with bergs of snickers - was it all out?
I ripped a few sets of ass without event. The farts came off as a sour rhubarb and garbage smell; quite relieving. Bunting a few always feels good.
Then the mother of all farts came. This was promising to end my ass cheek shifting (to prevent impregnation of the rancid gas into the polyurethane cushion) and squirming to expulse the swamp gas already trapped air in my seat cushion.
I ripped ass, and instead, I got a brownie batter mud pie splashing out the crack in my ass; a tidal wave of feculent slime. Oh fuck; it stinks so bad! Now, as I sit here I am stuffing Kleenex in my ass through my fly and the barn door on my underwear. If I can get enough of those in there I might have a chance to congeal this liquidy mess into a brown potato of feces and Kleenex.
Fuck! I just ran out of Kleenex and poop is on my fingers and now as I'm typing smearing on the keyboard. Fuck. This shit smells so bad. I just took my nice champion socks off and put them in there in hopes of arresting further doo doo river flow.
Welp. After about 8-10 minutes and two rolls of TP I'm back. I grabbed a can of Lysol and some anti bacterial soap and am spraying off my area and replacing the chair. I lost my keyboard in action; listed as KIA, by action of the South Colon Regular Army.
Oh fuck, that was a percolating brown festering quagmire of swampy, rhubarby smelly caramelized shit to remember.
The machines are us and we are Pacman.
*MUNCH* *MUNCH* *MUNCH*
In Soviet Redmond, software programs you!
Bad journalist, no cookie?
And WTF exactly are you working on? Keeping /var from filling up?