Happy Hours: dittybopper: Happy Hours: megity: timharrod: dittybopper: Never, *EVER* use a baby changing station. I learned this back when the littlebopper was a newborn.Am I dumb, or does anyone else have no idea what happened in this story?You're dumb. That was hilariousIt was amusing. I especially like the part that ditty hates carrying a cell phone, but carries a portable ham radio.I don't really get the fascination with HAM radios although the people who are into it can be really into it. A cell phone might actually be cheaper.A decent dual band handheld will set you back, say $250 brand spankin' new. A monoband radio (most likely 2 meters, most popular VHF band in the US) will cost you around $100. Even if you bought the things brand new, and they only lasted two years of use on average, that's around $4-$10 a month averaged out.It is cheaper because you don't pay for access at all: Once you get the license and buy a radio, all you're paying for is the electricity to run it. That's it.Best part is, when all the communications infrastructure collapses, they'll still work, unlike cellphones. Oh, and we get better coverage, too.okay, well they're cheaper than I thought. Of course, you've got one at home I'm sure probably with a big antenna - at least I lived next to someone like that once.
snocone: Big antennas are like boats.The best type is "other people's".Buy the beer and use the other people's boat, antenna, well, most anything.
FrancoFile: That's PocketNinja quality right there!! LMFAO
dittybopper: Never, *EVER* use a baby changing station. I learned this back when the littlebopper was a newborn.Not long after becoming proud parents for the first time, the distaffbopper and I decided to take our first foray out in the World together with our new child. Previously, we had gone out one at a time to do essential things like shopping, etc., but it had become a pain in the neck. She was making me carry a cellphone, which I generally eschew out of principle, just so that she could remind me to get X, or so that I could call her to make sure Brand Y is the correct one that she wanted. I've had the discussion with her many a time that she should get her ham radio license: I've got the gear set up at home, and I always carry a handheld radio anyway, so she could get me anytime she wants. Of course, you can't swear over the radio, so that's probably why she doesn't want to get one, but I digress.Anyway, so we're at the local Sears store, looking at baby clothes and various other accoutrements/impedimentia that seems to be associated with having a baby these days, when the unmistakable odor of newborn fecal material starts wafting up from the stroller. That's OK, we've come prepared! We've got a diaper bag with a change of clothes, spare diapers, wipes, Dr. Boutros-Boutros-Galli's UNICEF Buttpaste, even a changing pad. As we approach the restrooms, we thought "Salvation": They had a Baby Changing Station inside. So the distaffbopper grabs the littlebopper and the diaper bag and proceeds into the the Ladies Room.About 30 seconds later, I hear a scream, and the distaffbopper comes out sobbing, holding the cutest little black baby girl you ever saw in your life, dressed in a pink chiffon dress . The littlebopper is a half-Asian, half-Caucasian boy. We had to cycle through that Baby Changing Station like 10 times before we finally got him back.Word of advice to new parents: Avoid the Baby Changing Stations in public restrooms.
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