THEY WERE A LIFETIME TOGETHER
“Dude, you’re on your own today. Later — Your Brain.”
See you all tomorrow, I suppose.
My brain told me that years ago.
Have a good weekend!
Well, at least it’s being honest and forthright with you. I mean how may times has it just gone with the plan of fucking everything you have to do over without notice?
Hey, at least your brain didn’t borrow the car and head out on a road trip with the guys.
Lean forward, so that the drool runs out of your mouth. Works better that way.
Looking forward to when I get home at end of day and can shut down higher functions too!
My brain moved to Barbados a couple of decades ago — sends me a postcard every once in a while.
I wish my brain would officially send me notes on days like that.
It does mean you’re pretty well off if the living dead attack today.
It is good your brain communicates with you, John. And Call Your Mother.
Mine just left me a note saying “I wiiiiillll sloooooowwww dooooowwwwnnn toooooo aaaa veeeery loooow speeeeeeed riiiiiiight noooooowww” and I replied “Ooooookaaaayyy. Teeeeaaa aaand toooaaast iiiit iiiiiiss. Theeee beeeeed looooks cooooooomfyyyyyy” so we’re on the same level.
Happens to me when I am working on a nasty bit of code and a hard deadline is coming up fast. (Not fast as in MPH, Not fast as in light speed, fast as in around 12 AU per second.) I think it may be related to replacing sleep with caffeine.
So this doesn’t just happen to me? Good to know.
There’s a Hitchiker’s Guide to the Galaxy character who had a mind and body that had filed for divorce. Can’t remember his (their) name(s).
@Greg: Pizpot Gargravarr, the guardian of the Total Perspective Vortex on Frogstar B.
Dave, That’s it!
I also just remembered that a long time ago, my Brain used to send me video messages saying Uncle Gadge is in trouble.
[Deleted because a) not on topic, b) this is something that is best sent through e-mail, c) I can't do a damn thing about it anyway -- JS]
Last time my brain sent me a note like that, I woke up in Barstow with fifty pounds of cherries and a tattoo of Ricardo Montalban on my ankle. Be wary.
My dear, departed Mom once said, “My brain is in a wheelchair, rollllling around!” An interesting condition, indeed.
Your brain can text?
Haha, I got that exact message this morning as well. He always seems to take holidays when assignments are pressing. Damn you, brain *shakes fist* I need you today.
In the primordial mists of whatever past, you wrote that one of your objectives was to maintain the discipline of the daily deadline. What happens when a daily columnist — someone who makes their living that way, I mean — has total brain fade-out? Do they beg the editor to do a “Best of” re-run? Does the editor say something like, “Well, if you don’t have an idea, I do: Describe the effects of cochineal on the haberdasheries of 17th-century Europe. Have 500 words for me in three hours.” Are they hung from a meathook above the bullpen as a deterrent to other deadline deadbeats? What happens in a copy-dependent working environment?
“I don’t know about your brain- but mine is really … bossy” – Laurie Anderson
My brain and I get along fine, it’s the arthritic joints that wreak havoc. Typing with left hand today…
So how does one’s brain send a message to one’s self. Does it go through E-Mail, Twitter, SMS, postit note or fax machine?
Sorry to bother you, but did you change e-mail address?
(I’m Lee, korean translator. You might recall, our last cantact was two years ago…)
You have a very considerate brain. Mine is not so thoughtful. i find out much later.
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