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It all began with Mary Ward. In the mid nineteenth century, before gah created women (in the workplace), Mary Ward was an Irish astronomer.
And Mary Ward’s cousins built one of the early steam cars, seventeen years before the invention of the automobile:
On August 3, 1869, Mary Ward became known as the first motor vehicle accident victim when she was thrown from her cousins’ invention.
Since then, with the advent of the gas powered automobile, twenty million people have died in car accidents across the world.
Car manufacturers became aware of the need to redesign cars based on the prevention of passenger injury, but first there needed to be a way to measure the body’s response to the sudden, violent force of collisions.
The first attempts to collect the data of impact was done in Detroit on human cadavers. Steel ball bearings were dropped on skulls, cadavers were dumped down unused elevator shafts onto steel plates, and were subjected to head-on collisions and vehicle rollovers.
Recognizing that the results provided by cadavers accounted for only a fraction of the necessary answers, a few researchers in the 1940s became living participants in momentum experiments.
In the 1960s, animals were routinely used to test the newly invented collapsible steering columns during cabin collision studies.
Meanwhile, in a parallel laboratory, construction of the first human simulacra began in the late 1940s and continues to this day, providing more realistic data of human responses, and better means of measuring and collecting these results.
Bossy would like to wish her esteemed council a happy holiday weekend. Click this link to read Bossy’s post about the time she saw The Easter Bunny in jail.
Hello esteemed council, and welcome to Thursday, otherwise known as sister mercy Bossy has been posting every weekday for three and a half weeks and it’s all blending together.
Today Bossy was wondering if you could help her untie a twisty knot between her logic and rationale.
First Bossy should explain she thinks of herself as somewhat of a scientist, which Bossy’s children like to make fun of, preferably while eating the pricey Boursin Bossy purchased with her large scientific brain.
Anyway. It all began last Thursday. It was in the evening, and Bossy had a bunch of stuff in her car she would need on the drive the next morning because Bossy was going on a weekend-long Yoga retreat and Bossy knows, you would rather hear about the Yoga retreat!
So. There Bossy stood in her driveway peacefully meditating on the stuff in her car and whether it could stay in the freezing car — and when Bossy says she was peacefully meditating she means she called her brother cursing.
Bossy explained to her brother that although the temperature was dipping below the freezing mark as ever, Bossy was exhausted and therefore wanted to leave the bottled water and orange juice in the car, as well as her iPod shuffle and other technology. Overnight.
“I can just cover everything with that down coat,” Bossy said.
“But that’s not how it works, right?” Bossy’s brother questioned. “You can cover inanimate objects with a layer of insulation, but if the stuff underneath isn’t generating heat, I believe it freezes.”
Dear council: do you know what would happen to Bossy’s things had she left them under the down coat?
If you liked this scientific post about science, click here to read Bossy’s post about how Shipwrecks Are Good For Your Health.
Or read this post about Things Ancient Egypt Has In Common With Bossy’s Campground.
Or if you do nothing else, click this link to read Bossy’s Dr. Seuss poem starring this exact down coat. You won’t want to miss this, because it features Bossy’s Son, and will make you cry! Yay Thursday!
The other day Bossy was driving in her white pocketbook that is dressed as a Mini Cooper, when the Bee Gees came on the radio that is dressed as Sirius Satellite:
When Saturday Night Fever made its debut, Bossy was in grade school, so she didn’t yet know how to hate disco because it’s like, so unmusical, man.
Given the fact that Bossy and her friend Lydia fell into neither of those two categories, they learned how to do the Hustle at their local community center wearing their polyester disco wrap skirts:
So right there in her glove compartment with wheels the other day, the Bee Gees came on the radio and Bossy turned her knob to eleven and sang along. And about that, let’s just say Bossy puts the false in falsetto.
And that’s when it occurred to Bossy that this song was released in 1976, before the invention of research. This translates to mean, back then Bossy was on her own to ascertain the lyrics.
So join Bossy as she pushes play on the following video, and please follow along with the words she’s heard for nearly three decades — the words she sings at the top of her lungs, which are very much like the bottom of her lungs in their spongelike Epithelium. Shall we?
Whatcha doin on your bidding back
Whatcha doin on your bidding back
You should be dancing, yeah
She struts me out she’s trouble
She takes it to be done
My woman give me pie
Go right down to my blood
The real lyrics:
What you doin in the back
What you doin in the back
You should be dancing, yeah
She’s juicy and she’s trouble
She gets it to me good
My woman gives me power
Goes right down to my blood
If you enjoyed Bossy’s musical post, click this link to read Bossy’s review of a recent American Music Awards show.
Or you can always click this link to learn more about Bossy’s Mini Cooper, from the inside out.
Yesterday Bossy watched the HBO Original movie entitled Phil Spector, which stars Al Pacino as the infamous songwriter and producer.
But before it began, this was the warning:
To review. It’s not based on a true story, yet it features the character Phil Spector in a murder trial, while not intending to depict the actual Phil Spector in his real life murder trial.
Could someone please explain to Bossy what she just watched?
If you enjoyed watching TV with Bossy, click this link to read her review of the House Hunters International episode in Mexico. Seriously, don’t miss!
A few minutes ago, Bossy was busting her hump trying to remember the name of this guy:
Bossy was in the shower at the time, where they have not yet invented Google. So Bossy was left to her own devices to remember, all alone with her brain. Just like the olden days.
And when the hot water was nearly drained from the water heater, Bossy finally got it! Bossy’s Hippocampus shouted to her limbic lobe, “Matthew! Matthew Modine!”
But it’s not Matthew Modine. It’s Matthew… Matthew…
In times of memory crisis, Bossy’s Father’s solution is to run the entirety of the alphabet until landing on the preliminary sound with the most auditory resonance. “Matthew Buh, Matthew Buh” he might say.
And once situated on the seemingly correct first letter, Bossy’s dad will begin to run through the chain of available permutations, in alphabetical order.
Matthew Bah, Matthew Beh, Matthew Bih, Matthew Boh, Matthew Boh Matthew Boh Matthew Broderick!
Bossy, however, hears things syllabically.
So Bossy’s solution to the Matthew who problem would be more like this, “Matthew Uh-Uh-Uh, Matthew Duh Duh Duh, Matthew Bah Bah Bah… Broderick!”
Bossy’s syllabic method of name recovery reminds Bossy of the time in the 80s she asked a cute boy, standing on a Southern beach, how he chose the name of his band.
The cute boy’s answer wasn’t as lyrical as his songs. “You see,” he began, “I always thought the easiest band names to remember had the syllable layout: The Bah-Bah Bahs. You know, The Rolling Stones, The Beastie Boys.”
And so this cute boy continued with his explanation. Because the cute boys always do. “And I liked the word Groovy. So I was like, “The Groovy Buhs, The Groovy Cuhs… The Groovy Cools!”
And because this historically true story of nonfiction history occurred to Bossy after she was out of the shower, she was able to turn to her roommate for corroborating evidence. Her roommate who goes by the name Internet.
So Bossy searched this Internet for The Groovy Cools, which resulted in a few available images. And one of those images revealed the Kurt Cobain lookalike Bossy was referring to!
To double check Bossy had the right guy, she employed her father’s trick to remember his name: “The Groovy Cools Buh, The Groovy Cools Duh, The Groovy Cools Kah… The Groovy Cools Keith!”
And sure enough, Bossy was able to single him out:
Anyway. Back to Matthew Modine née Broderick. He’s married to Sarah Jessica Parker. The End.
If you liked this post about memory recall, click here for everything you ever wanted to know about Bossy’s Memory. This is a good one, don’t miss!
Or, since we’re on the subject of the 80s, why not read about The time Bossy saw Debbie Harry and she was wearing Peppermint Patty Sandals:
As some of you may have gleaned — because Bossy can’t stop writing about it in very specific terms — Bossy recently got a new job in the city. This allows her to commute to work by train! This is a tremendous advantage since Bossy also commutes home by train!
Like other commuters, Bossy has learned to read the timetables associated with her public transit system. For instance, Bossy knows there’s a train at 5:22pm, and a train at 5:55pm, and then there’s the red eye when Bossy’s eyes are the ones that are red due to drinking with her coworkers.
So occasionally Bossy gets stranded on the train platform longer than she’d like, awaiting her train that runs just once an hour during off peak times, because Bossy lives in an off peak community.
But luckily there are many celebrities in Bossy’s train station as Bossy kills the time that is killing her! Shall we?
For instance, just yesterday, Bossy saw Billy Joel!
And then there was him!
And finally, her!
Bossy hopes you’ll stick around for the next edition of Join Bossy As She Waits For Her Train!
In the meantime, if you liked this post about the train, click here to see a photo of Bossy on her train.
Or click here to read about the time Bossy caught a cold from the lead singer from Train. You may not think you know Train, but you do. Hey Soul Sister, Meet Virginia, Drops of Jupiter, Calling All Angels, Marry Me, see?
Or, since we’re talking about trains, click here to read Bossy’s tutorial on how to do A Soul Train Line. (Thank you Don Cornelius.)
Bossy has more train links, yes she does, but she will spare you, esteemed council. Or, leave Bossy a comment letting her know you like being pointed to other similar posts.
Is Bossy the only one who conjures up this when she sees Mime attachment in an email?
Bossy has a column on Babble! This week it’s all about her teenage daughter’s upcoming trip to Italy and includes dressing room photos and Top 15 Packing Tips for a Teenage Girl. Get over there!
Giving all new meaning to Breaking News, the Canadian athletic apparel brand Lululemon announced over the weekend its sheer disappointment that the company’s popular yoga pants were pulled down from the shelves due to a transparent manufacturing problem: they are see-through.
It was clear Lululemon was caught with its pants down when the bottom dropped out of their stock prices, which fell 3.8% yesterday and continued the free fall another 5.2% in after-hours trading.
The announcement was accompanied by a very flimsy excuse from the Lululemon team:
The ingredients, weight and longevity qualities of the women’s black luon bottoms remain the same but the coverage does not, resulting in a level of sheerness in some of our women’s black luon bottoms that fall short of our very high standards.
Bossy thinks she understands. Weight, coverage, short, high.
If you like this post about Yoga Pants, be sure to click this link to read Bossy’s post about her very own pants masquerading as crotchless panties.
Or click here for Bossy’s tutorial on Eye Yoga — which will make you throw away your reading glasses forever! (Until you buy stronger ones.)