Genius.

from Yahoo.com

SALT LAKE CITY – Two men planning to throw lighted fireworks from a car were burned when they forgot to roll down the window.

“They lit a large mortar rocket firework” and were going to throw it out the window, Salt Lake County sheriff’s Sgt. John Barker said. “The passenger threw it out the window, but he forgot to roll the window down. It bounced back in his lap.”

Adam Weber, 24, was in fair condition Thursday at the Intermountain Burn Unit at University Hospital with second and third degree burns on his arms, legs and torso.

“He’s going to be in a lot of pain. I don’t think it’s life-threatening, but he’s going to have a hard time. It’s going to be a long process to get him healed up,” Barker said.

The driver, Jared Williams, only had minor burns to his back.

The accident happened about 11:30 p.m. Wednesday.
The investigation has been turned over to the Unified Fire Authority. An officer told KSL-TV any charges filed likely would be just misdemeanors.

Martha Stewart gets minimum…

Why did I want her to get the maximum? Why did she only get the minimum? Why do I not even have to ask these questions? Why does it matter? Why do I care? Do I care?

I’m moving on, to a greener pasture and a more carefree lifestyle…

Gas…

I have a theory that farting is the native tongue of all humans.. We are born speaking it, understanding it, having conversations in it… Then, as we get older, we forget our native tongue as we learn whatever language we forced to use… It’s an interesting idea that has most scientists seriously asking the question “Why?”

I ask the question “Why?” when I read stories such as this one.

and helium…

Found this via a friend of a friend of a friend…

Good stuff.

between the wires

between the wires,
conversation sings,
like lost words,
moments cling
to my vast knowledge
of nothing and no thing.
I am reaching out
alone
for life’s mystery
to tempt me…
for one day to turn
to the next,
and a sun to rise
with a moon.

I am between
the cycles
of diversion
and reversion
seeking the solace
of my own company…
reaching out,
there’s no one there,
to feel my touch,
to comfort my discomfort.
there is only
more confusion
and words slung
in some form of anger…
some miscommunication
some confusion
some thing
lost…

there is only the sound
of a keyboard
and jazz
on a lonely
saturday night.

and in the end,
that has to be
fine with me.