Influks has some pictures from inside the dildo factory. It’s not nearly as glamorous as you’d think. Sadly no pictures of the testing department (or the models for the ladies, lol).

Corcholat. has the instructions for a man’s method to solve that eighties sensation, the Rubik’s cube.

Holy smokes, one I could tell Mom. Wow.

All across the kingdom, the news travelled quickly that the Queen’s bell-ringer, who faithfully served the royal family for decades, had passed. The Queen made the royal decree that she was looking for someone to come and take his place.

The next day, a humble peasant was first in the long line of applicants for the job. “My Queen,” he entreated her, “since I was a youth, I have always wanted to serve our kingdom and the royal family in this way. Let me be your bell-ringer, and I will serve in earnest all the days of my life.”

The Queen appreciated the peasant’s words, but was puzzled. “My humble servant, I have but one question: how can you serve the kingdom as the royal bell-ringer? You don’t have any arms!”

The peasant smiled and said simply, “Take me to the tower and I will show you.”

The Queen, her entourage, and the peasant climbed the steps of the bell tower until they reached the top. The peasant looked over his shoulder at the queen, “Behold!” And with that, the peasant ran to the far side of the room, spun around and ran directly at the bell. Faster and faster he ran then leapt, flew through the air, and–WHAM!–hit the bell full-force with his face.

Stunned, the Queen hesitated. But, when she heard the bell peal as never before, she told the peasant, “the position is yours.”

Weeks went by as the peasant served faithfully and punctually, and always in the same way: he would run across the room, spin around, charge directly at the bell, leap, and–WHAM!–hit the bell full-force with his face.

Until, that is, one fateful morning when the peasant woke up late. Certain he could still make it in time, he ran from his common home, tore across the kingdom, scrambled up the tower, across the room, spun, leapt and…missed the bell entirely! He instead flew across the room, out the nearby window and plummeted a thousand feet to his death.

Having heard the commotion, the castle guards ran upstairs to find the empty room. They looked out the window to find a crowd gathering around the peasant’s body. The one guard looks at each other and says, “My God–that poor man! Have you any idea who he is?”

The other:

(wait for it!)

“I don’t know, but his face rings a bell.”

—

All across the kingdom, the news travelled quickly that the Queen’s bell-ringer, who faithfully served the royal family for decades, had passed. The Queen made the royal decree that she was looking for someone to come and take his place.

The next day, a humble peasant was first in the long line of applicants for the job. “My Queen,” he entreated her, “since I was a youth, I have always wanted to serve our kingdom and the royal family in this way. Let me be your bell-ringer, and I will serve in earnest all the days of my life.”

The Queen appreciated the peasant’s words, but was puzzled. “My humble servant, I have but one question: how can you serve the kingdom as the royal bell-ringer? You don’t have any arms!”

The peasant smiled and said simply, “Take me to the tower and I will show you.”

The Queen, her entourage, and the peasant climbed the steps of the bell tower until they reached the top. The peasant looked over his shoulder at the queen, “Behold!” And with that, the peasant ran to the far side of the room, spun around and ran directly at the bell. Faster and faster he ran then leapt, flew through the air, and–WHAM!–hit the bell full-force with his face.

Stunned, the Queen hesitated. But, when she heard the bell peal as never before, she told the peasant, “the position is yours.”

Weeks went by as the peasant served faithfully and punctually, and always in the same way: he would run across the room, spin around, charge directly at the bell, leap, and–WHAM!–hit the bell full-force with his face.

Until, that is, one fateful morning when the peasant woke up late. Certain he could still make it in time, he ran from his common home, tore across the kingdom, scrambled up the tower, across the room, spun, leapt and…missed the bell entirely! He instead flew across the room, out the nearby window and plummeted a thousand feet to his death.

Having heard the commotion, the castle guards ran upstairs to find the empty room. They looked out the window to find a crowd gathering around the peasant’s body. The one guard looks at each other and says, “My God–that poor man! Have you any idea who he is?”

The other:

(wait for it!)

“I don’t know, but his face rings a bell.”

I just arrived in South Korea, and my colleague says that I can die if I sleep in a closed room with a fan on. He insists that “fan death” is an actual danger. What the hell?

“I’m told that every Korean believes that fan death is real,” Jeffery Hodges, a professor at Ewha Womans University in Seoul, tells AF. Read the full story at Esquire.

Sometimes a predator can strike fear deep into the hearts of prey.

There have been numerous and exciting advances in facial recognition technology. Now many consumer grade cameras have the ability to identify faces…hey…you aren’t even reading this are you?

Psycho Kitty is thinking about Time. Oh yes, it’s only a matter of time.

Ah yes, more shirts with a message. An important message. A compelling message.

A short graphical analogy of the the available desktop computer operating systems.

Actually there is one in there, I suspect this documents its genesis.