Today I'd like to talk about a new phenomena I've discovered. I think because I've discovered it I should put an official name to it. For now let us call it "Brian's Phantom Rings". That's actually a cool name. It could even be a band name. Anyway, the effect is this - after 6 months of having a cell phone in a single location(like my right pocket) that has a vibrating ringer, mysterious phantom rings will begin to occur. Basically I will be sitting on the couch and it will "feel" like my cell phone is vibrating in my pocket even though no one has called. Specifically the muscle where the phone usually is will twitch just like the cell phone has rung. It feels so much like it is ringing, except no ring tone, that I have to check on it to make sure. It can happen anywhere and it is hard to distinguish between the twitch and the cell phone ringing. My theory is that the muscle where the phone is get's used to the sensations and then mimics it using some neurological thingy. It is a highly specific and technical dowhackey. I believe the gluteus maximus tension tends to enhance this whatchamacallit and the only way to stop it is have people quit calling you. I think it was aggravated by the fact that when I was looking for a job I gave out my cell number on my resume and recruiter's started calling me every hour. That aggravated the condition because at night I started getting phantom rings. As of now there is no known cure and I must live with the ringing in my pants. As long as there is no ringing in my head I'm ok with it.

Big Thought of the Day
Centurion: Hail Caesar.
Pilate: Hail Caesar.
Centurion: Only one survivor, Sir.
Pilate: Thwow him to the floor.
Centurion: What, Sir?
Pilate: Thwow him to the floor.
Centurion: Ah!
(He motions to the two Roman guards, who throw Brian to the ground.)
Pilate: Now, what is your name, Jew?
Brian: Brian.
Pilate: Bwian, eh?
Brian: (trying to be helpful) No, *Brian*.
(The Centurion cuffs him.)
Pilate: The little wascal has thpiwit.
Centurion: Has what, sir?
Pilate: *THPIWIT*.
Centurion: Yes, he did, sir.
Pilate: No, no, thpiwit...bwavado...a touch of dewwing-do.
Centurion: (still not really understanding) Ah. About eleven, sir.
Pilate: (to Brian) So you dare to waid uth.
Brian: (rising to his feet) To what?
Pilate: Stwike him, centuwion, vewwy woughly.
Centurion: And throw him to the floor, Sir?
Pilate: What?
Centurion: THWOW him to the floor again, Sir?
Pilate: Oh, yeth. Thwow him to the floor.
(The Centurion knocks Brian hard on the side of the head again and
the two guards throw him to the floor.)
Pilate: Now, Jewith wapscallion.
Brian: I'm not Jewish ... I'm a Roman!
Pilate: *WOMAN*?
Brian: No, *ROMAN*.
(But he's not quick enough to avoid another blow from the Centurion.)
Pilate: Tho, your father was a *WOMAN*. Who wath he?
Brian: (proudly) He was a centurion in the Jerusalem Garrison.
Pilate: Oh. What was his name?
Brian: Nortius Maximus.

(An involuntary titter arises from the Centurion.)

Pilate: Centuwion, do we have anyone of that name in the gawwison?
Centurion: Well...no, sir.
Pilate: You sound vewwy sure...have you checked?
Centurion: Well...no, sir. I think it's a joke, sir...like...Sillius
Soddus, or...Biggus Dickus.
Pilate: What's so funny about Bigguth Dickuth?
Centurion: Well,...it's a...a joke name, sir.
Pilate: I have a vewwy gweat fwend in Wome called Bigguth Dickuth.

(Involuntary laughter from a nearby guard surprises Pilate.)

Pilate: Silence! What is all this insolence? You will find yourself in
gladiator school vewwy quickly with wotten behaviour like that.

(The guard tries to stop giggling. Pilate turns away from him. He is angry.)

Brian: Can I go now sir...
(The Centurion strikes him.)
Pilate: Wait till Bigguth hears of this!

(The guard immediately breaks up again. Pilate turns on him.)

Pilate: Wight! Centuwion...take him away.
Centurion: Oh sir, he only....
Pilate: I want him fighting wabid wild animals within a week.
Centurion: Yes, sir.
(He starts to drag out the wretched guard. Brian notices that
little attention is being paid to him.)
Pilate: I will not have my fwendth widiculed by the common tholdiewy.
(He walks slowly towards the other guards.)
Pilate: Now...anyone else feel like a little giggle when I mention my fwend-
(He goes right up to one of the guards.)
Biggus ... Dickus. He has a wife you know.
(The guards tense up.)
Called Incontinentia.
(The guards relax.)
Incontinentia Buttockth!
(The guards fall about laughing. Brian takes advantage of the
chaos to slip away.)
Thilenth! I've had enough of this wowdy webel behaviour. Thtop it!
You call yourselves Pawaetonian guards? Thilence!
(But the guards are all hysterical by now. Pilate notices
Brian escaping.)
You cwowd of cwacking-up cweeps. Theize him! Blow your noses and
theize him! Oh, my bum.
-- Monty Python's The Life of Brian