Set Shifting Puns

One of the main driving factors in this decision was, in the event of someone saying anything along the lines of “wait, you play violin?” I would be able to respond with “yeah I fiddle around with it.”

I waited eight months, EIGHT. MONTHS. for someone to say to me “you play violin?” Then, it finally happened. It was the perfect setting: five of my coworkers were sitting around a table having drinks after work and one of them mentioned the fact that I have a violin. And there it was, the question, exactly as I had imagined it: “Wait, EmergencyTaco, you play violin?” Months of preparation had led to this and, without missing a beat, I responded “yeah, I fiddle around with it.”

He replied “Oh. That’s cool.” And then the conversation shifted. Not one of them got it. I spent $600 for nothing. Nothing but crushing disappointment.

But as anyone that has worked the night shift knows it can be a long and boring affair. No great threats to defend against. So this knight decided to improve himself, night after night he would bring books to read while he stood guard. Learning languages, math, philosophy. The smarter he gets the more he realizes that he will likely leave the world and be forgotten. In his depression he turns to music, learning instrument after instrument, style after style. Using his knowledge of math to create beautiful patterns and moving songs. He learns that it is they rhythm more than anything that draws people to a song and sets his nights to finding the rhythm that will be universally loved. Now, hundreds of years after his death, people the world over still remember Sir Cadian's Rhythm.

Back a few decades, I was working in a program with a local college in the Middle East.

The name of the program for ExPats has the clever acronym of "IDEA" (hey, I said it was clever); which stands for "Inter-Departmental Educational Adjunct". It's interdepartmental because my particular specialty not only covers field geology but also paleontology and a bit of archeology thrown in for good measure. Everyone hopes to have a good IDEA...

ahem...

Well, we saddle up and head for the Dune Sea out in the west of the country, where the Precambrian, Cambrian, Silurian, Cretaceous, Pliocene, Pleistocene, and Holocene crop out and access is relatively easy and non-injurious.

Well, we caravan out, some 30 Land Cruisers, Nissan patrol, and the odd Mitsubishi Galloper strong. We all get our maps, compasses and split up into 5 or 6 special interest groups ("SIG's"); where each IDEA has his own GPS and LIDAR laser ranging apparatus. Reason being, that there are very few benchmarks out in the desert, and even those are constantly at the mercy of the shifting and ever-blowing sands.

Since we're split into groups and at any one time, ranging up to and including some 50 km2, when a real find is located, a device called the "DIME" (Digital-Interface Monitor Encoder) is attached and programmed into the GPS for location later; it is a digital sort of low-frequency transponder, developed from technology used by offshore drillers and jacket setters where benchmarks are even more transitory.

The way it works is rather simple. When something is to be marked for later retrieval, a series of wooden posts are pounded in a triangular manner around the find and the DIME is set, programmed with the GPS and attached to one or more of the posts.

That's the theory, at least.

Everything works well, especially all the hardened electronics and computer gizmos, but attaching the DIME to the stakes is the real problem. It can't be nailed, screwed or fastened with any sort of metal contrivance as that farkles the magnetic field and causes all sorts of goofy spurious signals. Zip ties don't last long in the heat and duct tape is right out. Many sites have been lost to the shifting sands this way.

Velcro doesn't work too well, as the sand fills the hooks of the receiving piece of velcro and soon renders it useless. String or fishing line work, but that's temporary (they melt). Glue or mastic are out as these are supposed to be temporary. Even plastic sleeves don't work due to the heat out

He was operating a late night train and fell asleep at the controls. He ended up failing to recognise a stop sign and as a result his train hit a person and killed them immediately. He was tried for manslaughter and sentenced to the electric chair. Just before being put in the chair, he was given the choice of final meal and chose a single banana, oddly. His time came and he was placed into the chair, the room vacated and then the switch was thrown.

But... Nothing. No sparks, no burning, nothing. They checked the machine and it was working fine, it just seemed not to harm him. The state law meant that, legally, his sentence had been carried out and he was free to go. He walked away a free man, and actually got another job as a train driver.

Sadly, almost exactly the same thing happened again. This time his negligence killed two kids playing around on the tracks when again he'd fallen asleep and failed to stop the train in time. Hauled before the courts again, he got exactly the same sentence - the electric chair. He was asked again for his final meal, chose two bananas this time, and his sentence was carried out again.

And yet again, he didn't die. In fact, he was entirely unharmed. The state law remained the same, so he was let out again, where - somehow - he got another job with another train company. I guess it was the only job he was trained for (pardon the pun). Anyway, this time he did much better and worked hard to stay awake during his late shifts. But sure enough, eventually he slipped back in to old habits and this time killed five people - a family trying to free their dog stuck in the tracks.

Once again he faced a jury, once again they found him guilty and a judge sentenced him to the electric chair. This time he asked for 5 bananas, but the guard was wiley - he has read about this man and how he always had bananas before his sentence was carried out, and so this time (with a grin, it's said) he brought the train driver 5 apples instead. The guilty man plead and begged for bananas, but the guard claimed it was an honest mistake but too late to change now.

The man was lead for a third time to the electric chair. His head was wetted, his arms strapped in, and the guard eyed him with something between wonder and fear. Finally the room was vacated and the switch thrown. Surely this time the machine would do its job? With the process finished, the guard ran back into the room, only to find the man still alive and looking entirely healthy. "I do

I’m not sure, but I think this belongs here:

I work night shift as a unit clerk at a hospital, and there is this one old security guard who goes on rounds to every unit. He always stops at my desk and cracks really cheesy, cringe-worthy jokes. He has this one awful (awesome?) knee-slapper that seems to be a permanent fixture in his "dad joke" repertoire. He’s said it 3 or 4 times already since I’ve started working here in March, so I'm pretty sure this joke is constantly on standby for him.

This is the exact conversation every time:

Security dude: How are you doing this fine evening?

Me (purposefully setting myself up for it): Pretty good. How about you?

Security dude: Really? WELL, I’ve never been pretty or good, so I don't know what that's like! Hahahahahaha (continues to laugh like this is the funniest joke that’s ever been told).