Mechanical engineer, material scientist. Loves to run, play billiards, swim, and be outdoors.
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Monday, January 26, 2004
Cead Mile Failte!
"So, what happened? You got a hard on after some guy gave you a Mars bar?"----Bill, during our conversation on chocolate and sex. What the fuck were you thinking, man?
This morning, woke up INSANELY early [0800], and ate breakfast with my folks at Mannion's [mmm...Irish breakfast...mmm...only if I could go to Galway or Tipperary]
Aye, then I arrived at the CTE to help out at robotics, and was immediately pressed into service. My first task? Help make a mock-up of the robot arm. Ok, so using the eye hooks as pulley systems may not have been the best idea guys, but we sure did do a damned helluva good job rigging it up [despite having a SEVERE mechanical disadvantage]. Not only that, but I moved too quickly once and managed to slice open my finger a bit [not bad, but stung like a bitch...I guess that's what happens when the grease and dirt gets into the cut]. Got a bandage off Russ [not roommate Russ, but insane Russ] after washing it.
Off to the CAD room to bug Rob and Linda for a bit, came out and was asked to judge Little Chernicki's performance as a possible human player. Watched him almost immediately destroy the goal part of the field [PVC popped out, ball hit very top, and torque and moment arms took their effect in the real world]. So, that left me stuck trying to figure out a way to reinforce it. Could put a layer of lexan under the plywood, or on top of it...or just add an extra inch of 2x4s underneath...or grab some sheet metal and screw it in. Anyways, it got fixed. I don't remember how. It just did.
My second close call of the day was when we were using drills [yes, drills, not high speed, high power machine shop shit, but normal handheld drills]. Me and Chernick Little were screwing strips of sheet metal down onto the steps leading up to the pullup bar. The screws kept going every which way and sometimes flying at random angles. I am very thankful that I wore a thick thick thick sweatshirt today, because of of Mr. Chernicki's screws exploded out of control, and nailed me right in the chest, sharp end first [very sharp pain, but was so brief I barely noticed it]. If it weren't for the shirt, I'd have been impaled with a rather rusty, greasy, pointy object [and no, not the good sort of grease (aka bacon grease)].
My father picked me up and we headed home and packed up and left back for Worcester. Got back, started to unload.
Get up to my room, first thing I notice is a card on my desk, of a bear, with its head in its paws. It read:
"Oh God, help me score tonight!"
Even better was my father's reaction. Thanks Russ. I think I'm going to kill you now.
There was also this Murphys Law poster on my desk, but I can't figure out what the fuck happened to it. I was gonna post that up because it kicked so much ass [No, really, you know those really really really really really overweight International Federation of Competitive Eating people's asses? Yeah, that poster could kick those things to the moon and shit like that.]
Good thing my father didn't tell my mother about the card. So, anyways, went to Picadilly for supper, and despite not being hungry [I'm very rarely hungry nowadays...I used to be the bane of edible substances], I ate a damn lot of food. Three bowls of popcorn, the entire dinner [big burger, some fries], then came back and ate something like 30 Hershey Kisses.
Unpacked my crap once I got back, played Yuri's Revenge with Ron for a bit, then played Neverwinter Nights with Russ [I had promised him earlier I would]. So yeah, he leaves me in the crapper [how the FUCK did you get 2-3 levels ahead of me?!? I'm a freakin' fighter, man!]
Then watched Coupling afterwards. Note to self: AVOID THE GIGGLELOOP AT ALL COSTS. ANY COST. WHICH INCLUDES ALL COSTS. IT'LL GET YOU. SOMEDAY. BEWARE THE GIGGLELOOP, MY SON, THE GLASSES THAT STACK, THE TOWER THAT SHAKES. BEWARE THE FUNERAL AUNT THAT CUTS IT CLOSE.
Grif: "A walrus."
Sarge: "Didn't I just tell you to stop making things up? Simmons! I want you to poison Grif's next meal."
Simmons: "Yessir!"
"So, what happened? You got a hard on after some guy gave you a Mars bar?"----Bill, during our conversation on chocolate and sex. What the fuck were you thinking, man?
This morning, woke up INSANELY early [0800], and ate breakfast with my folks at Mannion's [mmm...Irish breakfast...mmm...only if I could go to Galway or Tipperary]
Aye, then I arrived at the CTE to help out at robotics, and was immediately pressed into service. My first task? Help make a mock-up of the robot arm. Ok, so using the eye hooks as pulley systems may not have been the best idea guys, but we sure did do a damned helluva good job rigging it up [despite having a SEVERE mechanical disadvantage]. Not only that, but I moved too quickly once and managed to slice open my finger a bit [not bad, but stung like a bitch...I guess that's what happens when the grease and dirt gets into the cut]. Got a bandage off Russ [not roommate Russ, but insane Russ] after washing it.
Off to the CAD room to bug Rob and Linda for a bit, came out and was asked to judge Little Chernicki's performance as a possible human player. Watched him almost immediately destroy the goal part of the field [PVC popped out, ball hit very top, and torque and moment arms took their effect in the real world]. So, that left me stuck trying to figure out a way to reinforce it. Could put a layer of lexan under the plywood, or on top of it...or just add an extra inch of 2x4s underneath...or grab some sheet metal and screw it in. Anyways, it got fixed. I don't remember how. It just did.
My second close call of the day was when we were using drills [yes, drills, not high speed, high power machine shop shit, but normal handheld drills]. Me and Chernick Little were screwing strips of sheet metal down onto the steps leading up to the pullup bar. The screws kept going every which way and sometimes flying at random angles. I am very thankful that I wore a thick thick thick sweatshirt today, because of of Mr. Chernicki's screws exploded out of control, and nailed me right in the chest, sharp end first [very sharp pain, but was so brief I barely noticed it]. If it weren't for the shirt, I'd have been impaled with a rather rusty, greasy, pointy object [and no, not the good sort of grease (aka bacon grease)].
My father picked me up and we headed home and packed up and left back for Worcester. Got back, started to unload.
Get up to my room, first thing I notice is a card on my desk, of a bear, with its head in its paws. It read:
"Oh God, help me score tonight!"
Even better was my father's reaction. Thanks Russ. I think I'm going to kill you now.
There was also this Murphys Law poster on my desk, but I can't figure out what the fuck happened to it. I was gonna post that up because it kicked so much ass [No, really, you know those really really really really really overweight International Federation of Competitive Eating people's asses? Yeah, that poster could kick those things to the moon and shit like that.]
Good thing my father didn't tell my mother about the card. So, anyways, went to Picadilly for supper, and despite not being hungry [I'm very rarely hungry nowadays...I used to be the bane of edible substances], I ate a damn lot of food. Three bowls of popcorn, the entire dinner [big burger, some fries], then came back and ate something like 30 Hershey Kisses.
Unpacked my crap once I got back, played Yuri's Revenge with Ron for a bit, then played Neverwinter Nights with Russ [I had promised him earlier I would]. So yeah, he leaves me in the crapper [how the FUCK did you get 2-3 levels ahead of me?!? I'm a freakin' fighter, man!]
Then watched Coupling afterwards. Note to self: AVOID THE GIGGLELOOP AT ALL COSTS. ANY COST. WHICH INCLUDES ALL COSTS. IT'LL GET YOU. SOMEDAY. BEWARE THE GIGGLELOOP, MY SON, THE GLASSES THAT STACK, THE TOWER THAT SHAKES. BEWARE THE FUNERAL AUNT THAT CUTS IT CLOSE.
Grif: "A walrus."
Sarge: "Didn't I just tell you to stop making things up? Simmons! I want you to poison Grif's next meal."
Simmons: "Yessir!"
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