Random thought thread!


A Dinner Haiku

Mouth is a burning, yeah
Stomach is churning a bit
Pizza and hot sauce


I will be forever annoyed that “pet” is used for two different things in the context of animal companions. I’ve done zero research on the history of the word, but I would imagine the noun version came second to the verb version. Either way someone was being really lazy. Way to go, English.


I know someone who specifically studies pets in history in an academic setting, they will check for you this afternoon!

Short version:

n., meaning lamb or other domestic animal reared by hand, 1539.

n., meaning an animal kept for pleasure or companionship, 1710.

v., meaning to make a pet of, to stroke, 1629.


It is impossible to watch Heat on network TV. Every other word is silence.


Where’d those little hearts go at the bottom of posts? They were cool.



Are we human, or are we dancer? (My phone autocorrected the last word to cancer, discuss)



I’m sitting in the Geneva airport because United can’t ever be arsed to have their flights depart on time. I half expect somebody to come drag me out of here and punch me in the mouth.


Isn’t that part of the standard boarding procedure for all major US airlines now?


Hey, you just better hope they assign you one of the non-scorpion-launching seats.



Anyone else lose Qt3 for a bit around 5:15?


More like 4:10 for me. Are you a time traveler?


If you’re East coast then yes I am.


That’s like The Sopranos on PAX (Heat on network TV).



So there is a place in NYC that my friends and I used to go to.

Some background:
We used to sell t-shirts at concerts. We’d go to a place on Long Island and pick up a huge duffle bag of freshly silk screened shirts. Each. Then we’d drive to Manhattan or the Spectrum or wherever to sell them. We’d make a pretty decent amount of cash. We got the shirts on consignment, at the time for like two bucks each. We’d sell them for three or more each, depending upon the show.


In New York, after we sold out. And assuming that nobody got popped (arrested) we’d go to either The Meatball, an Italian restaurant on 34th and 8th Ave. Or our favorite place. Wo-Hop. A Chinese restaurant in Chinatown. Wo-Hop was so great. There is an upstairs place for the tourists. Waiters with jackets, nice tablecloths. The whole thing.

We went to the downstairs. That’s where there was big communal tables and the kitchen was right there.

The first time we went there we had various smokable drugs. This included a large lump of hash and a large lump of opium. We sat at a table near the kitchen and as the assholes we were we started to smoke opium. It was amazing. Several of the kitchen crew came out. We spoke no Chinese dialect. The spoke very little English. But we understood that they would like a hit of opium. We shared. The waiter came by. We shared. The kitchen guys started to bring out some amazing dishes. We ran out of opium. We had hash. We shared.

Eventually we had a bond. The kitchen guys would forever know us as 'YOU". Any time we came back they would say, ‘YOU, YOU!’ Maybe that was a word for druggie asshole. It didn’t matter.

Let me make this clear, at no time did we get free food. And we tipped really well. I just think we got better food than some might.

I miss the 70s. And I miss Wo-Hop.


I miss the 70’s as well.
But seriously, you have great stories. You need to do a book or something. Or at least post them here more often.


QT3 have a sister website called 4:21 where we only talk about drugs.