Poll
10 votes (29.41%) | |||
15 votes (44.11%) | |||
9 votes (26.47%) |
34 members have voted
Date: Wednesday June 15th 2011
Location: Main Street Station, Downtown, Las Vegas, NV.
Meeting Place: 777 Brew Pub.
Time: 2pm.
Let me know what you think.
Nareed - Great. I hope everything goes ok, and am looking forward to meeting you as I have always enjoyed your posts.
ElectricDreams - Its a shame, but hopefully youll still get to meet the Wizard in March when you go. He normally makes a point of meeting anyone from this board whos interested in meeting him, and its well worth it.
And with 6 positive answers and a couple of maybe's, looks like it could all go quite well.
Touch Wood.
Count me in! I wouldn't miss it!
And Wiz: I am a smoker...would I perish trying to get to the top of Red Cap or whatever it is called? Think I would like to try anyway....
Quote: avargovI am a smoker...would I perish trying to get to the top of Red Cap or whatever it is called? Think I would like to try anyway....
That is a strike against you, but I don't rule it out. Just because somebody smokes doesn't mean they are out of shape. When I did the triathlon last month a friend of a friend beat my time, and he is a smoker. I think a good litmus test would be if you could do 50 flights on a stair machine at a respectable pace.
Quote: CroupierNareed - Great. I hope everything goes ok, and am looking forward to meeting you as I have always enjoyed your posts.
Likewise.
BTW perhaps we should set up a WOVCon site or a blog to keep updates, further infomration, etc, with links to this site. In any case someone should post on this thread at least weekly to keep it visible.
Quote: WizardThat is a strike against you, but I don't rule it out. Just because somebody smokes doesn't mean they are out of shape. When I did the triathlon last month a friend of a friend beat my time, and he is a smoker. I think a good litmus test would be if you could do 50 flights on a stair machine at a respectable pace.
I think that I will use this as a challenge. My goal will be to get in good enough shape to get to the top if you would care to join me. Hell, it's 7 months away, I may even use this as a reason to stop smoking!
Quote: avargovI think that I will use this as a challenge. My goal will be to get in good enough shape to get to the top if you would care to join me. Hell, it's 7 months away, I may even use this as a reason to stop smoking!
I'd be happy to give you a shot at it. I wish to success if you try to quit smoking.
Q. Why won't sharks attack lawyers?
A. Professional courtesy.
Although I am open to other suggestions. Because I have some scarily bad shirts.
It's looking like my January trip to Vegas (CES) isn't going to come together as I'd hoped. So WOVcon will be my next trip to Sin City. I just finished booking my flights and hotel (6/12-6/17), so I'm locked in.
Good to hear RDW. Well not about the CES trip going down the toilet, but to having another WOVCon attendee.
but to pass the time....
There is a factory in Eastern Wisconsin in which they make the Tickle Me Elmo toys. In case you didn't know, the toy laughs when you tickle it under the arms. Well, Lena is hired at The Tickle Me Elmo factory and she reports for her first day promptly at 8:00 AM.
The next day at 8:45 AM there is a knock at the Personnel Manager's door. The Foreman throws open the door and begins to rant about the new employee. He complains that she is incredibly slow and the whole line is backing up, putting the entire production line behind schedule.
The Personnel Manager decides he should see this for himself, so the two men march down to the factory floor. When they get there the line is so backed up that there are Tickle Me Elmo's all over the factory floor and they're really beginning to pile up. At the end of the line stands Lena surrounded by mountains of Tickle Me Elmo's.
She has a roll of plush red fabric and a huge bag of small marbles. The 2 men watch in amazement as she cuts a little piece of fabric, wraps it around two marbles and begins to carefully sew the little package between Elmo's legs.
The Personnel Manager bursts into laughter. After several minutes of hysterics he pulls himself together and approaches Lena. "I'm sorry," he says to her, barely able to keep a straight face, "but I think you misunderstood the instructions I gave you yesterday..."
"Your job was to give Elmo two test tickles."
Thanks for the joke. Keep 'em coming with the thumbtacks.
Three bulls heard via the grapevine that the rancher was going to bring yet another bull onto the ranch, and the prospect raised a discussion among them.
First Bull: "Boys, we all know I've been here 5 years. Once we settled our differences, we agreed on which 100 of the cows would be mine. Now, I don't know where this newcomer is going to get HIS cows, but I ain't givin' him any of mine."
Second Bull: "That pretty much says it for me, too. I've been here 3 years and have earned my right to the 50 cows we've agreed are mine. I'll fight him till I run him off or kill him, but I'M KEEPIN' ALL MY COWS."
Third Bull: "I've only been here a year, and so far you guys have only let me have 10 cows to "take care of". I may not be as big as you fellows (yet) but I am young and virile, so I simply MUST keep all MY cows."
They had just finished their big talk when an eighteen-wheeler pulls up in the middle of the pasture with only ONE ANIMAL IN IT: the biggest Son-of-Another-Bull these guys had ever seen! At 4700 pounds, each step he took toward the ground strained the steel ramp to the breaking point.
First Bull: "Ahem... You know, it's actually been some time since I really felt I was doing all my cows justice, anyway. I think I can spare a few for our new friend."
Second Bull: "I'll have plenty of cows to take care of if I just stay on the opposite end of the pasture from HIM. I'm certainly not looking for an argument."
They look over at their young friend, the 3rd bull, and find him pawing the dirt, shaking his horns, and snorting.
First Bull: "Son, let me give you some advice real quick. Let him have some of your cows and live to tell about it."
Third Bull: "Hell, he can have ALL my cows. I'm just making sure he knows I'M a bull!"
"Dad," the son says, "Let's race down the hill and have us each a cow."
"No, son. Let's walk slowly down the hill and have us each every cow."
Quote: NareedA bull is strolling on a hill by the farm with his son. they come upon a meadow where dozens of cows are grazing...
That joke is very central to the movie Colors.
Quote: WizardThat joke is very central to the movie Colors.
Huh. Never heard of it.
I lifted the joke from either "Isaac Asimov's Treasury of Humor" or "Asimov Laughs Again." Croupier's post reminded me of it.
but enough highjacking if not enough bumping of the thread.
Quote: WizardThanks for the joke.
Oh, it was a joke? I thought ... .
Don't worry about the thumbtacks... I'm sending two dozen in assorted colors along with two dozen button-holes.
There was a little boy by the name of Billy. Billy was an ordinary little boy who did ordinary little boy things, like playing, eating, bathing, destroying things, and going to school. One day, when Billy went down to the bus stop to meet the bus to go to school, he found all of his friends huddled around in a little group, talking about the Purple Wombat.
Being a little boy, Billy was curious. So he asked them, "What's the Purple Wombat?"
"You don't know what the Purple Wombat is?" the children exclaimed disgustedly. For the rest of the morning, they would not go near Billy, always standing far away and staring at him. Then the bus came. Billy, confused, got on the bus along with the rest of the children.
"Hey, Mister Bus Driver!" one of the chldren shouted. "Billy doesn't know what the Purple Wombat is!"
The bus driver turned around abruptly. "You don't know what the Purple Wombat is?" he said in disbelief. He ordered Billy to sit in the very back of the bus, all by himself.
Eventually, they got to school, and Billy got off the bus and went to class. Class proceeded normally; the students did the pledge of allegiance and worked on their multiplication tables for a while. Then the teacher led them into a unit on geography. Billy was not really paying attention, but he heard the teacher mention something about the Purple Wombat.
Billy's hand shot up, and, when the teacher called on him, Billy asked, "Teacher, what's the Purple Wombat?"
"You don't know what the Purple Wombat is?" the teacher cried in alarm, "Get yourself to the principal's office right now, young man. No, no buts -- march!"
So Billy headed down the long, dark, frightening hallway to the principal's office. He slowly opened the large, heavy door, and timidly entered the room behind it. There, at a large, imposing desk, sat the principal. The principal was a hulking man, balding, with a thin mustache. He spoke in a deep baritone voice. He was enough to frighten little boys like Billy who had been sent to his office almost to tears.
"Well, Billy," he began slowly. "What seems to be the problem?"
"Mr. Principal, I just don't know what's going on today. Everyone's been acting weird, and they're all treating me really badly. Like teacher just sent me to you and stuff."
"Now, Billy, I'm here to help you. I'm the princi-Pal, after all. Heh heh. Can you tell me why everyone's acting so strangely?"
"It's because I don't know what some stupid Purple Wombat is."
"What? You don't know what the Purple Wombat is? That's it. I am calling your mother, young man. Consider yourself suspended."
The principal threw Billy out of his office and told him to go home. Billy, crying, began the long walk home. When he got there, his mother was standing in the doorway waiting for him.
"Billy!" she called, sobbing, "I was so worried about you! What happened?"
"Mom," Billy cried, "Everyone was being mean to me and I had to sit in the back of the bus all by myself and the teacher sent me to the principal's office and the principal suspended me, all because I don't know what the Purple Wombat is!"
"What? You don't know what the Purple Wombat is?" Billy's mother shrieked. "Go to your room this minute. Go! Just wait until your father gets home!"
So Billy marched up the stairs and into his room. He collapsed on the bed, crying. After some amount of time, he heard a car pull in and some doors shutting. His father was home. He could hear his parents talking downstairs but didn't know what they were saying. Then he heard footsteps coming up the stairs, and his door opened.
"Billy," his father began in that lecturing-father tone, "Your mother says you've been acting badly lately. Would you like to tell me what you've done?"
"Dad, I haven't done anything! I just don't know what the Purple Wombat is!"
"You...don't know what the Purple Wombat is. Well, in that case, you can just stay in this room all night, mister. And forget about dinner!"
Billy's father slammed the door and stormed off. Billy collapsed on his bed, crying his eyes out. He spent the next several hours that way -- lying there, crying, wishing he would wake up.
Then, in the middle of the night, he heard a voice. It said: "Billy. I am the Purple Wombat, Billy."
Billy sat up with a start. He looked around the room, trying to find the source of the voice, but he could not.
"Billy. I am the Purple Wombat. Find me, Billy."
It was coming from out the window. So Billy got up, put his shoes on, opened the window, and climbed out on to the roof.
"Billy. I am the Purple Wombat."
Billy jumped down off the roof and followed the voice down the road. He got to the edge of a wood.
"Billy. I am the Purple Wombat. Follow me, Billy."
The voice was coming from inside the wood. It was very dark and very frightening, but Billy didn't care. He had to find out what the Purple Wombat was. So, bravely, he entered the wood.
"Billy. I am the Purple Wombat. Keep going, Billy."
Billy kept going into the wood. He could hardly see anything, and he kept falling down and walking into things and hurting himself. But he kept going, driven by a need to find this enigma that kept calling his name.
"Billy. I am the Purple Wombat. This way, Billy."
Eventually, Billy emerged from the wood. He was on the shore of the town lake.
"Billy. I am the Purple Wombat. I'm out here, Billy."
It was coming from out across the lake. Billy got one of the small rowboats from the dock, untied it, and rowed out. Since he was only a small boy, it was very difficult. But he had to find out what the Purple Wombat was.
"Billy. I am the Purple Wombat. Row, Billy."
The voice was coming from across the lake. Billy doubled his effort, and the boat began to move a little faster. When he was about half way across the lake, he heard: "Billy, I am the Purple Wombat. I'm up here, Billy."
It was coming from directly above him. Billy stopped rowing and stood up to look for it. The boat tipped over, dumping him in the lake. Billy didn't know how to swim, so he drowned.
What's the moral of the story? Don't stand up in a boat.
Oh and come to WOVCon
What a miserable pair of f**kers they were.
I can't think of any jokes, though, so I'll ask a question instead:
Can anyone explain what the hell is Facebook for? I've never gotten an answer that didn't make me feel "it was all Greek to me." For the record, I don't speak Greek.
Many thanks.
But to answer your question, to me Facebook seems like a tool to help people you have some vague passing relationship with to update you constantly with the mundanity of their existences whilst simultaneously serving as an ego boost for the real world socially inept as they constantly count the number of "friends" they have, probably none of which they have ever seen face to face, much less shared a chat in a bar with.
BTW I count myself as socially inept and proud of it. But even I don't see the point of this thing. of course, I'm also sort of a loner.
Quote: NareedCan anyone explain what the hell is Facebook for? I've never gotten an answer that didn't make me feel "it was all Greek to me." For the record, I don't speak Greek.
Funny you should ask. Another forum member and I were discussing this yesterday. The wife of the forum member said, I think correctly, "It is a generational thing."
For years everyone told me to get a Facebook page. A few months ago I was bored so went ahead and signed up. I still don't see the point of it. Okay, I'll admit it is fun to be nosy and search for old friends. Sometimes you find them! However, I never reach out to say hello, but maybe I should. Most of the messages do nothing for me.
Quote: Wizard\ A few months ago I was bored so went ahead and signed up. I still don't see the point of it. Okay, I'll admit it is fun to be nosy and search for old friends. Sometimes you find them! However, I never reach out to say hello, but maybe I should. Most of the messages do nothing for me.
If you have a large family, its beyond price. My wife has 4 sisters and a brother in Canada. We have a son in the AF who's a Major and a pilot. Our oldest daughter teaches college in NY. My inlaws live in MT. Its a huge family reunion every day. With all the nephews and nieces, and friends of friends, there are tons of posts every day, thousands of pictures, lots a catching up and keeping up. I hate to sound corny, but its a wonder..
Quote: WizardFunny you should ask. Another forum member and I were discussing this yesterday. The wife of the forum member said, I think correctly, "It is a generational thing."
That's the kind of thing I remember thinking would never happen to me, you know when i was 16 or so... Ah, Nostalgia!
I think you're right. I also don't get Twitter. Funny thing is chat was supposed to be the ultimate internet time waster.
Quote: Nareed
How about the Cosmopolitan?
Are you picking up the tab?
We're a pretty unsavory bunch ourselves :)Quote: CroupierThis post talks of unsavoury characters at the Palace Station. Maybe a change of venue is in order. Thoughts?
Quote: CroupierThis post talks of unsavoury characters at the Palace Station. Maybe a change of venue is in order. Thoughts?
I've been in the place about 100 times, and the clientele has seemed just like regular folks. Particularly in a locals' casino, security is reluctant to toss anybody based on appearance alone, because all too often that "bum" turns out to be a black-chip bettor.
Half the problem is that being there with my wife (who is attractive in my opinion obviously), you are a target for anyone begging for money because they know it's often easier to cough up a buck than to risk not getting any that evening for being inconsiderate.
Quote: aahighThat was my thread. I'd be Willing to go to Palace Station for such a conference if I were invited, but I would actually advise you guys to take a poll to see what others think about that location. That's definitely my least favorite place in terms of other people there and the general condition of the place itself. But if you have your own group of more than one adult male, those issues won't be much of an issue.
Half the problem is that being there with my wife (who is attractive in my opinion obviously), you are a target for anyone begging for money because they know it's often easier to cough up a buck than to risk not getting any that evening for being inconsiderate.
Everyones invited. The more the merrier. My wife will be tagging along too, so it might be something to consider. Ill throw out some locations in a seperate thread.
Date: Wednesday June 15th 2011
Location: Main Street Station, Downtown, Las Vegas, NV.
Meeting Place: 777 Brew Pub.
Time: 2pm.
As long as this is agreeable for most people.
Quote: thecesspitAch well... I thought a nice Paris/Palms run and a group IQ test would make for a great set of events at your WoVCon. :)
AS this was posted in another thread, maybe some form of quiz could be arranged. As for the physical activity, maybe something could be done in the form of a small wager. Depends how drunk we are.
The day before I plan to lead a scramble up Red Cap for anyone interested and in decent shape. I think I'll get a room at the MSS Wednesday evening and just hang around the MSS for a solid day.
Quote: NicksGamingStuffWhats the MSS? If I go to the red cap scramble does anyone want to give me a ride from the strip?
MSS = Main Street Station
Quote: WizardAt the least I will have a trivia contest, as I did with the first WoV meetup.
That would be nice. Any topics in particular or just general trivia?
Also, are there any railroad tracks nearby where we could test some quarters and some foreign currency? :P
Any railroad tracks near the Main Street Station? Well, let's see ... it must be a good 20 or 30 foot trip from MSS to the nearest tracks. Now I don't know how much train traffic there is these days, but proximity of tracks shouldn't be the problem. Try GoogleMaps, go to StreetView at the corner of Ogden and Main Street, and face NNW -- you can see MSS on the right side and the Ogden tunnel under the tracks to the left.Quote: Nareed...Also, are there any railroad tracks nearby where we could test some quarters and some foreign currency? :P
Yup, the train goes right by the MSS (Main Street Station). Thus its name, Main Street for the street it is on, and Station for at least looking like a train station and proximity to the former real train station. However, the tracks may be difficult to access, to keep hobos off the trains. The adventurous among us will at least try!
Quote: CroupierAs for the physical activity, maybe something could be done in the form of a small wager. Depends how drunk we are.
:) Come on, you could call it Logan's Run ;)