Okay, remember how in Back to the Future, plutonium was needed to power the DeLorean, but the Libyan terrorists wanted it back?
Now swap in tissue boxes with DeLorean and Bed, Bath & Beyond with Libyan terrorists and you’ve got this story.
A shipment of tissues box covers making their way to the California corner of Bed, Bath & Beyond (if they’ve got time, Saturday’s looking busy) were delayed in their travels. At a truck scale, the radiation sensor was set off, probably setting off tornado sirens and klaxons left and right. The box covers apparently had been coated in low levels of cobalt-60. Triple B is now offering a recall on the products.
The radiation is reportedly not too dangerous to people if they left them in their bathroom, but I have a feeling my old suitemate from college, Sploosh, might have a bad case of testicular cancer if he bought them.
Whenever I approach a new year, I like to take stock of what I survived. I like to think of myself less as a time traveler stuck in forward linear motion at an uninterruptible rate and more of a time warrior, cleaning out the runners of my time sword as I prepare to skewer another year.
So, here’s an entirely subjective list of what went right and wrong in 2011 before greeting Bolon Yokte as an old friend at midnight, Jan. 1. Continue reading Take it from Snee: Pros and cons of surviving 2011
Last week, Libyan leader and noted crazy person Omar Gaddafi made a rambling speech in front of the United Nations. Most of the speech was just a bunch of nutty ideas, but the dictator did make a good point: what the hell is Switzerland for?
Gaddafi, who looks like Antonio Banderas after a bender, suggested that Switzerland be divided up among other European countries (because that plan always works) and be done with that pesky, neutral nation. What are the Swiss good for, anyway? We know how to make their cheese, their military sold the rights to their famous knife tools, hell, we even use the inverted colors of their flag as the world symbol for “don’t shoot at me.”
Yodeling–that’s what we’re left with. Suck it, Swiss!