Behold! I am 100 Hour Bard.
At thy request and thy demand I write
These songs which have at once my spirit scarred
And my soul healed. Thee I now invite
To ask me questions to thy soul's content
On any subject, matter, or event,
And I shall answer to my best extent,
Though rhyming shall remain my great intent.
100 Typing Monkeys are found in a lab on the thirteenth floor of the SWKT, where they are kept at computers all day long so that scientists can discover what 100 Typing Monkeys will type. 100 Typing Monkeys type nonsense when they are being watched, but at night, they hop on the internet and cruise the world wide interweb. They have discovered a certain addictive delight in the intellectual stimulation of answering question on the 100 Hour Board, and were it not for the presence of their archest of enemies, CATS, on the Board, the Board would be as perfect a website as has ever existed.
Sometimes you need a slightly offensive one-liner to put you in your place. That's what I'm here for.
*giggle* Are you actually reading about me? Do you really care who I am? That's so awesome! I never actually thought that I'd get on here, but, well, here I am! Famous!! Alright, well, maybe not *quite* famous, but I bet I will be! I'm totally in love with Provo and with everyone here at BYU. I can't believe that I get the chance to give you advice on things, because I'm one of the smartest people that I know. I guess I can only say that here, because none of you know me, and so I can be totally honest, right? LoL! This is so amazing. You should definitely send me e-mail, because then we could be like, the best of friends. Actually, maybe we already ARE the best of friends and you don't even know because this is totally anonymous! Anyway, send me e-mail and I'll totally like, heart you (like this: <3 isn't that totally cute?) forever!
acharitableditz @ gmail.com
If you don't need to hear it, someone else does.
Aside from her legendary achievements as a scholar, educator, athlete, leader of free nations, scourge of street crime, altruist, and all-around marvelous individual, A. A. Melyngoch is also a gifted writer of missives and essays that do not contain the letters B
. Due the foregoing sentence, this is no longer one of them. melyngoch byu edu; put in the dots yourself.
I live my life preparing for the day that VH1 brings back The World Series of Pop Culture.
I am quickly won over with witty puns, delicious food, and genuine, heartfelt notes.
I can often be found attempting to create art, cleaning my apartment excessively, or at Target.
You can email me at email@example.com (and if you do I will be incredibly excited).
I am Adequate Adam. I am the littler and older brother of Extravagant Awesomeness. I think it's lame he got all the good genes in the family. But he did not get the nice genes, though. He is a jerk. He will not even ackknowledge anything about me in his profile. Nope, not him..._I'm so awesome_,_ he says. Even mom and dad were like _Oh, your brother is so awesome at everything, Adam...why do you have to be so....well, adequate_? And you know, I really don't know the answer to that. Just like I do not know why we can not use apostrophes in our profiles. Maybe that is because I am only adequate and not awesome, and can only provide adequate answers. Yes, you can certainly note the lack of apostrophes...and awesomeness....I guess my adequacy abounds or something.
I am the AL-EX-AN-D-ER, and I am not throwing away my shot.
a shout of joy, praise, or gratitude.
the key here is passion, people. there is always an opinion felt, so it must be shared. whether you like it or not!
take heart, for the passion encompasses a suffocating care for all things. hence the opinions. alleluia03(at)gmail(dot)com.
Once upon a time, there lived a young lass named Ambrosia. She lived a fine life among the daisies and buttercups that populated the cow pasture she had always known as "home." Then, one day, a catastrophe occurred. The sky fell. But not in one big old piece like everybody was always expecting it too, and not in little sweet raindrops like you might want, either. No, instead, it sort of glopped down, in big, thick, taffy-blue strands, all gooey and buttery. The daises didn't care for the texture of the stuff, and the buttercups weren't pleased with the competition. So they packed up and migrated south. The cows were disconsolate at the thought of a pasture with no flowers. Really the only thing that had made the whole thing worthwhile--living in a field fenced in with sharp wires and filled with cow patties--had been the flowers. Without them, it was too much like a refugee camp for the cows to handle. They gathered their cud and their calves and left camp posthaste to relocate in the city, where there were better jobs, anyway.
This left poor Ambrosia, bless her soul, all alone in a cowless cow pasture. Not a soul in sight. And the scenery was growing rather stale. The blooms were all gone, and there hadn't been a fresh cow patty for days. She had used to enjoy playing a sort of bingo with herself. She would use a sharp stick to gouge lines through the pasture, marking off squares. Then she would make bets with herself to see which row of squares would be filled with patties first. But alas, now she had no one to play with. All alone. And what was worse--this awful stuff falling from the sky stuck. It stuck to her clothes. It stuck to the ground. Instead of dissolving nicely, it adhered to and obliterated the remains of her last bingo board. And it stuck to her hair.
She did not like this sky-falling stuff, not one bit. So she left the pasture. But she resolved she would not be beaten by a bit of blue taffy. One day, she would return, and she would free her farmland from the gloppy grip of the horrid stuff.
I believe that there is nothing wrong with the flavor vanilla. I hate being cold in a most passionate way, and I hope that Macs take over the world. I love sunny days and dancing in the rain, the smell of freshly cut grass and the sound of laughter. I use movie quotes in everyday conversation and record my world with photographs. I love football more than is probably decent, but not professional football. I believe in opening presents on Christmas morning, not on Christmas Eve, and that music can change the world. I love my country and think that people who don't should leave. I am exceptionally opinionated and always up for a good battle of the wits, and people who do not know me have a difficult time knowing when I am serious. I believe that everyone deserves to have their opinion heard, and that everyone has something important to share. I believe that life should be lived with a smile, and that laughter truly is the best medicine. I'm incredibly random and ridiculously spontaneous. I'm loud and out of control, and I want to change the world.
I'm not your stereotypical BYU student. anomalous(at)theboard.byu.edu
Hello, I am Anon-o-rama. Deep within the realm of your ebbing, flowing, swirling, eddying, and carnal mind you must think that I am an anonymous person. And you would be correct.
I'm five feet nothin', a hundred and nothin', and I got hardly a speck of athletic ability. And I hung in with the best college football team in the land for two years. And I'm also going to walk out of here with a degree from the University of Notre Dame.
Yeah. That's right.
Talk to me: appleton(at)theboard(dot)byu(dot)edu
Aprender’s name comes from the verb, “to learn,” in Spanish. Aprender pretty much answers any question that merits a straightforward, non-elaborate answer. You will never see Aprender write a novel answer to any submitted question.
"Hello, I'm April Ludgate. I like people, places, and things."
Email me at firstname.lastname@example.org.
I shape the wills of men. Am I a lawyer? An architect? A ruthless dictator? I learn everything there is to know and then share what I have learned with everyone. E-mail me at architect dot of dot will at theboard dot byu dot edu.
[Happy chime type noise]
Thank you for calling Archive-Phone! If you would like to shower our service with praise, please press "1" now. If you have a complaint or other vendetta towards the service, please press "288394250622938392203".
Thank you and call again!
I am a quiet researcher that makes the library my home. Right now I have my nose stuck in a book. When I get a moment, I will fill in more interesting details.
I'm an importer/exporter, but I'm considering quitting exporting and focusing on the importing.
Send me an email and know me better man!
An accident prone girl who has had many scrapes, bruises, and shattered toenails. But despite these small setbacks, I continue to sing, dance, run, swim, eat peanut butter, and regurgitate random trivia… but not all at once. Needless to say, I'm an adrenaline junky. But instead of jumping off of cliffs or out of planes (like normal people do), I enjoy speeding down the road with the intention of saving lives, and I feel warm and fuzzy when I hear sirens. Although I don’t profess to know anything, I know where to find almost everything (except my own car keys.) I’m also willing to offer my opinion if it’s sought. Feel free to contact me: coloradoaspen (at) gmail.com
Sailing over the Edge in hopes of landing on the Discworld.
Who is Baked Alaska? Well, as with many of the questions here on the 100 Hour Board, I turn to Google for the answer:
Baked Alaska is the archetypal queer food
Baked Alaska is the star
Baked Alaska is the best
Baked Alaska is the big surprise here
Baked Alaska is the usual offering
Baked Alaska is the result of a whole in the ozone layer [not to be confused with a hole in the ozone layer]
Baked Alaska is the missing link
Baked Alaska is the only one still in print
So there you have it. Now you know everything you ever wanted to know about me, Baked Alaska.
(If somehow you still have questions, though, feel free to email me at TheBakedAlaska at gmail dot com)
Bathazar is a nice guy with very little personality. He likes to answer questions involving Spanish, but other than that he is a very boring person.
Conservative with a liberal twist, just like all of the best ice-cream.
I'm only here for the food.
It's going to be legen...wait for it—and I hope you're not lactose intolerant, because the second half of the word is—dary! Legendary!
I have a fetish for BMW's which borderlines on idolatry (I'll repent later). I don't like cats, or my dog for that matter, but he's really a sissy dog anyway.
I am a huge advocate of Oregon, Macs, BMWs and Oregon.
Please send all praises, compliments, offers for monetary donations to email@example.com. Please send all harsh criticism, scoldings, rebukes and threats against life and loved ones to saurus at byu.edu.
Sometimes you just need someone to be nice.
Benvolio's name means "good will" but he's a little more sarcastic than his name lets on. He likes to run, hike, and ski and his rather eclectic interests make him good for the 100 Hour Board but bad at most of his classes. Benvolio is from the East Coast and has a nasty habit of using big words which he doesn't know the meanings of.
Bertie Wooster, if he ever existed, was killed round about 1915.
Bertie Wooster won a prize for Scripture Knowledge.
You might not be able to ask Jeeves any more, but you can certainly ask Bertie Wooster!
You may also contact Bertie by email at Bertram(dot)W(dot)Wooster(at)gmail(dot)com
Sing the song...you know you want to.
Depending on the type of research I am doing, Google is either my first resource, or my last.
Send me an email! birdy at theboard dot byu dot edu
I answer the hard doctrinal questions. Why? Because I know what I'm talking about!
I am just a small blue blanket. The reports of me making death threats to Il Guanaco are greatly exaggerated.
Blinding White Flash | blīndiNG (h)wīt flaSH |
1. what you see when lightning strikes too close.
2. the last thing you see as nuclear armageddon breaks out.
3. a short, sharp change of perspective that throws you for a loop on the Board.
I love America. I'm a white, middle-class Mormon. I eat meat. I like baseball and apple pie. I don't support terrorism or socialism.
Oh, and I'm a Democrat.
I'm just your average BYU student. I like Raisin Bran quite a bit. Eat your breakfast...its good for you!
Email: boardbranflakes at gmail dot com
"I've got cat class and I've got cat style!" ... oh wait, I hate cats. BYU.Britt at gmail dot com.
Who is Brother Tom, do you ask? Well, he is a writer for the 100 Hour Board. He's been one for a while. His Lady has skin fair as water-lilies in the spring with blushing cheeks pink as willow-blossoms, and clear eyes blue like the desert sky after a summer rain shower. His jacket is forest-green, and his shoes are only a mundane brown, but his goal is to provide straight answers when he can. He doesn't claim to know everything, but he is the master of his own domain. Board Update: Brother Tom is currently MIA or AWOL. We're not sure which. Perhaps he's just incommunicado.
Howdy! You will never guess how happy I am that you are taking the time to read about me. Really! There really isn't much to me. I survived being the only boy in my family with only minor damage. Having four sisters has really taught me lots & like to never ever say that a certain shirt may make someone look fat (I learned that the hard way). Feel free to shoot me an e-mail anytime at
brutus(at)theboard(dot)byu(dot)edu or check out my blog.
Also, please don't hate me.
She’ll answer to Princess Buttercup, My Little Buttercup, or Buttercup Baby. She also happens to be the Board’s resident BYU-Idaho expert. Send any and all expressions of adoration to buttercup(dot)theboard(at)gmail(dot)com.
When you wish upon a star, be sure it's not really a fire demon.
Weel, haloo, me wee bairns! Weelcome to the warld of this mad scotty-dog with a harrible timper. I have bad bladdar control, I alwees reeze me voice, and I have a WARLD of reasons why I'm superiar to tha fool-of-an-Irish seetter who lives down me street. (Run an' fetch, run an' fetch, doon't the bloody hoond iver THINK?!)
B'sides answerin' yer tomfool queestions, I enjoy dancin' a hornpipe in me kelt, bagpipes a-blarin' like thee wouldn't stope 'tel Joodgement Dee!
Thankee, ya' fools and sennars! Yoo hain't seen noothin' yit!
You won't listen to my prophecies, but I shall declare them anyhow.
Laputa. A floating city from Gulliver's Travels. Yes. But so much more. While Swift chose to poke fun at humanity for its inconsistent nature using startling imagery, Castle in the Sky elevates the entire human race by adding a serene dignity. It lifts us higher by showing us the bad, yet ever-prodding us to take notice of the good around us.
Castle is also very manly and takes great offense to those who insult his manliness. To them he is known as "Fortress in the Sky"
Castle in the Sky is currently not accepting applications for dating. However, because he is too lazy to delete this link, you can find his application here
. Feel free to write him at: castle(dot)in(dot)the(dot)firstname.lastname@example.org.
You have no chance to survive make your time
Ha Ha Ha. . .
All your question are belong to us.
How are you gentlemen!! Again??!
I graduated Quando Omni Flunkus Moritati with a major in Useless Knowledge and a minor in Wasting Time from that revered (Poison) Ivy League School CGNU, Crazy Go Nuts University. I like string cheese and pastrami sandwiches with just a touch of that brigh yellow mustard. Oh yeah, and once you get me going on a pet peeve, I really get going... So if you want a good keyboard lashing, start me up on gun control, false doctrine, the senselessness of liberalism, or something of the like. cgnugrad(at)gmail.com
Claudio was not only the Champion of POGS at his elementary school--he actually manufactured his own slammer, with which he earned tubes upon tubes of his opponents' POGS by always playing for keeps.
It's all been downhill since then.
He'll take your questions on anything, but specializes in pop culture, literature, baking cookies and other culinary arts, useless trivia, old school 8-bit video gaming, and the history of rock and roll.
When Claudio grows up, he wants to be Bear Grylls.
claudio at theboard dot byu dot edu
Cognoscente is just, this guy, y'know?
SURVIVOR ALIAS--Easy Street
I am the way, the tease, and the lie. No man cometh unto the eye of the needle except by me.
Rather than telling you seemingly cool things about a person you'll likely never knowingly meet (unless, ya know, you wanna buy me some Taco Bell), I've decided to describe myself through slogans generated by our very own The Internet:
- "Our Commander Keen will give you softer skin."
- "A smooth-running Commander Keen is a relaxing experience."
- "Commander Keen, whiter than the whitest!"
- "One Commander Keen is better than two of something else."
- "Commander Keen will get you more girls."
- "Commander Keen gets me excited."
- "I'm not gonna pay a lot for this Commander Keen."
- "Nothin' says lovin' like Commander Keen from the oven."
Forsooth! All this and more can be yours by e-mailing ck(dot)theboard(at)gmail(dot)com.
What draws me draws the ocean.
For me, the hardest part of the Board application process was choosing my pseudonym. I finally settled on Conrad because it doesn't tie me down to any one personality type. I can just be myself ;-) But before I decided on Conrad, here were a few other names I considered:
- The Third Mario Brother
- Extra Medium
- Raw Toast
- Casper the Excessively Friendly Ghost
- Kingdom Spleens
Questions? Comments? Just bored? E-mail me at My_Man_Conrad @ yahoo.com
I just really love cats, and animals in general.
this chain letter has been
circulating the globe unbroken for
29 million years!!!!!!!!!
we are about to break a world record!!!!!!!!!!!
if you break it now, then tonight at EXACTLY 3:14
and 56 seconds, CREEPING BEAUTY will
come to your bedroom. you will know it is her
because she has NO FINGERNAILS and she
has CURLY NOSE HAIR and ONE HUGE EYEBROW that
looks like a TARANTULA!!!!!!! but
her eyes are GORGEOUS, with PERFECT mascara and
eye shadow, NOT TO MENTION
eyeliner. her voice sounds like the ALLURING
MELODY of SCREECHING PERUVIAN BATS
OF DEATH in the TWILIGHT!!!!!!!!!!!!!! she will be
strumming an ELECTRIC UKULELE with a
PORTABLE AMP!!!!!!!!!!!!! she will stand by your
BEDSIDE and STARE at you with her
GORGEOUS EYES until you SENSE her presence and
awaken, at which point she will
INTRODUCE YOU to MISTER BLOWTORCH!!!! her PHALANX
of rabid BADGERS will look on
with glee and cackle MYSTERIOUSLY!!!!!!!!!!! do
you want this to happen??????
(Nothing I say is true, basically. Don't listen to me.)
I am a nerd to the third power. So, expect whatever you would from a self-proclaimed nerd. Maybe I have more computers than friends, but they keep me company.
cubicnerd at gmail dot com
I'm sort of a square peg in a round hole. Or a round peg in a square hole. Something like that. Largely, I'm green, go well on salads, and have some unusual angles.
I'm one of the three people on Earth who isn't really a fan of cookies. I have a goldfish that likes to swim upside-down and backwards and comes when he's called. I have a marvelous husband who bring me flowers at work and doesn't mind when I make him do the dishes because I'm feeling lazy. I am ridiculously cuddly. I like plants, cooking, reading, music (but not that R&B junk. I disapprove of that), and running. I attended BYU-I once, but decided that if I stayed there for another semester, I'd probably die, either of boredom or of the cold. Instead, I'm off to the lovely land of Arizona, where it rarely, if ever, snows, and where stuff actually happens.
Any personal questions, comments, or complaints may be directed to email@example.com. I'll try to respond in a timely fashion but I make no promises.
I'm an old writer, back from the dead. Guess which one?
d.a.r.e at theboard dot byu dot edu
70% chocolate; 30% fun.
darkchocolate (at) byu (dot) edu
Dark Wolf is watching. He will contact you.
Indivisible. With some liberty. And generally just to all.
Math, science, and history--I try to do my best to unravel mystery.
Comments of any nature may be directed to democritus(at)theboard(dot)byu(dot)edu.
Lover of all things divine. I blog at http://www.goesnotbackward.com. Reach me at divya(at)theboard.byu.edu
Do Not Cross Double White Lines
What about Smeed, what about smeed? Wait a second, Smeed's me! They call me Dr. Smeed. I'm not a real doctor but I am a real Smeed. An incredible raconteur and recovering jack-of-all-trades-and-master-of-none, I strive to make it my business to know everything about everyone, and often dispense prudent advice on things I am supremely unqualified to talk about, such as love and general human interaction. Life in the humanities was never so fun. Questions? Comments? Complaints? Criticism? Cookies? Dr.smeed at theboard.byu.edu
I am your normal, average, run of the mill, average Joe, kind of person. At least that's how I appear to most. You never know what mischief I am plotting behind the scenes, however. And the beautiful part? You'll never suspect me, either. I love harmless
practical jokes. I'll even be a good sport about it when they're played on me. But something to keep in mind: I don't get even. I get ahead. :) And I have lots of practice. You can email me at dragon.lady at theboard dot byu dot edu or vist my blog at dragonladyofjapan dot blogspot dot com.
I was out on the range rounding up the usual cattle, the same way along the usual trails. Day after day I chased the same cattle on the same monotonous trails. “There must be something more for me in this life!” I plead aloud to the dust. Then I heard it, a faint whisper on the western wind, growing stronger. It was like great thunder and beautiful music at the same time. Then I saw it. A great green and black dragon glided over the mesa. Not a word was spoken as it passed over me, but at once I understood. “If you would be a man, follow me.” I rode like the wind over hill and prairie, desperately trying to keep up. Finally I came over a ridge and I saw a vast prairie of wild, fierce and untamed dragons. Immediately I understood my destiny. I took my lasso in hand and charged down the hill to the prairie below. Through smoke and flame I roped the largest bull dragon I could see. After a long struggle and many singes he understood he had been mastered. Slowly, I brought order to the valley, and I became Dragonboy.
Duke. Definition: a nobleman of the highest hereditary rank.
Duchess. Definition: a woman who holds the rank of duke in her own right; maintains a white function on the Board; loves to travel; enjoys reading, technical writing, and editing; not affiliated with the Duchess of Hearts or any other classical story.
A 4-month native to London, England, Duchess was originally known as the Duchess of Westminster, but later shortened the title once she returned to the United States of America. The name was set to be retired, but after much penname deliberation, Duchess was resurrected, and she has been known as Duchess ever since. Duchess loves grammar and editing, but not as much as Ambrosia, and admires Ambrosia’s expertise. Duchess loves European chocolate, traveling, The 100-Hour Board, and swing dancing (even though she doesn't really remember much). Her hair will probably always be shoulder-length, she’ll probably always reject marriage proposals online, and she knows the archives better than the Webmaster ‘cause she’s been around longer.
You can email her at duchess at theboard dot byu.edu. and my blog
I exist for an important reason.
I like yoga, science fiction, chewy candy, puppies, and vegetables. Since graduating from BYU, I've moved on to medical school at [undisclosed university] and married this guy
. Life is good!
Email me at eirene(at)theboard(dot)byu(dot)edu.
The Prince with a Thousand Enemies. Prometheus. Brer Rabbit. Odysseus. Māui.
Wikipedia teaches: "The trickster deity breaks the rules of the gods or nature, sometimes maliciously but usually with ultimately positive effects....In many cultures, the trickster and the culture hero are often combined." I am the trickster-hero.
Email me at el dot ahrairah at theboard dot byu dot edu.
$87,472,033.61 and counting...
I am the apple. Not a big one. Just *the* one.
I am the Queen of Rohan. I am pretty handy with a sword, like my men scruffy, and am not afraid to tell it like it is. I fear nothing except the possibility of wasting away with no one even remembering my name... which is why I joined this Board, of course. My words and deeds shall be immortalized in the archives.
'Ana Fa'iz, wi'ana at'kallim lughat al-arabiyya. Lithallik, mumkin tataslni 'an aye mauduah... ana haakim.
'ana mutakhassas fi darasat sharq al-awsat.
I'm just your typical Female Computer Science Major, trying to ace her classes where the male-to-female ratio is 30:1. When I'm not slaving away in the Talmage labs, I'm answering 100 Hour Board questions, singing with the radio, or giving dirty looks to BYU students who wear A&F clothing.
"God is in the details." -Mies Van der Rohe
I'm a student at BYU Law who decided to listen to a good friend and join the 100 Hour Board. I'm doing my best to keep up with law work and reading and also the normal aspects of life. We'll see how that goes.
If you feel so inclined, you may email me at fineprintgirl (at) gmail (dot) com.
Alright, so I can sing high. So what! You know what, most of the popular singers are tenors. I enjoy the fact that I can, and will most times, carry the melody.
All that you touch
All that you see
All that you taste
All that you feel
All that you love
All that you hate
All you distrust
All you save
All that you give
All that you deal
All that you buy
beg, borrow or steal
All you create
All you destroy
All that you do
All that you say
All that you eat
everyone you meet
All that you slight
everyone you fight
All that is now
All that is gone
All that's to come
and everything under the sun is in tune
but the sun is eclipsed by the mooooooooooooooon.
Foreman is a self-described "socially functional geek." This means that while he may have traded in his glasses for contacts, he still plays the odd chess game. He might occasionally talk to a girl, but he still knows that The Answer is 42 and the significance of up-up-down-down-left-right-left-right-B-A-Start. He usually resists, but is ready at the drop of a hat to discuss his theory of how magic in the Harry Potter universe relates to the Laws of Thermodynamics and quantum uncertainty. He likes rock climbing, but can't deny that nearly all sports talk confounds him. And don't be fooled by the occasional foray into stylish clothing; he'd just as soon wear jeans and a rock band t-shirt and talk about how (and why) the Beatles are the greatest band EVER. When he tires of his gregarious face, Foreman can usually be found in his natural habitat, curled up with a book.
He will also beat you in a Tetris throwdown any day of the week. Challenge him at foreman(dot)theboard(at)gmail(dot)com.
I'm a typical computer guy: I play computer games, program for fun, and can't spel. From MMORPGs and FPSs to PHP and SQL, I live behind the computer screen. And yes, I wear glasses. Email me at fractile at gmail.com
Fresh like whooooa. Helaman livin' textbook totin' rootin' tootin' late night partyer, late day tester. freshman(at)theboard(dot)byu(dot)edu.
I like to eat frozen peas. I like them as a snack. They are good. Yay for frozen peas!
Basta. Bas. Khalis. Fine. Finito. Fsyo. That is all.
Unless you want more, then you can visit my blog at http://fsyod.blogspot.com or email me at fsyodu(at)gmail(dot)com.
I will come at you like a spider monkey. If you deserve it. Which you probably do.
I'm the real thing. Accept no substitutions.
I'm a 1990 model, light blue and somewhat boxy. My ceiling is falling down, my seatbelts occasionally choose to spontaneously combust, and basically every less than vitally important feature I possess is broken. But I'm loved and that's what counts. :) Shoot me an email at geoprism (at) gmail (dot) com.
I'm a pretty nice guy who's a bit nerdy, but that's ok. All that time I spent on the island (somewhere near Brazil) gave me time to study scriptures and really come to understand the doctrine of the church,
So, I'm happy to answer doctrinal questions... plus whatever else I think is important.
You guys. Some of you are reading this because you're pretty sure that I'm the meanest person in the whole world, and you think that I'll say something to that effect in my bio. Maybe I'll give an elaborate backstory to justify my nasty quips and stern rebukes for people who don't check the archives and re-ask frequently asked questions.
Well, I'm not going to do that. It turns out that I'm actually a pretty nice guy who doesn't hide behind secondary nyms and speaks his mind instead of coddling readers. That's not to say I don't care about you—on the contrary, I've devoted many, many hours of time on this site trying to help readers with their divers problems. But I am a supporter of people also helping themselves, and when the answer to their precise question is addressed in the archives with a quick, easy search, I am always there to come down hard.
So, if you think I'm mean—I'm sorry. I hope you'll change your mind. If you think that when I call people doodoobrains or dunderheads or doofwads or goobersnots that I'm being completely serious and harsh, then...well, I hope you learn how to detect facetiousness a little better as you continue reading.
Also, since I think this needs some biographical information, I'll say that I'm a dude and Rating Pending and Foreman are my two favorite writers, past and present.
I like to spout off answers that require no research and may not be quite what you were looking for. But at least they're short.
A metal hammer
Made by immortal Grabthar
Haiku is its gift.
A dapper lad from upstate Utah, I am happily single, to my mother's chagrin. My major is something relatively useless, insofar as majors are supposed to generate fundage for families and the like. To make up for my inadequacies in this field, I gather mass amounts of useless information to bewilder and distract any who make it past my mask of flippant sarcasm. In short, I make it my goal to understand fully and completely. Everything. Because knowing is half the battle. And I'm no good at fighting.
Guy Fawkes is several things.
He's a Guy
, he's a Fox
, he shares his name with a 17th century British Catholic anarchist
and he's here to answer your questions.
Here you can see a rare picture of Guy, as he sits contemplating a question that has been brought to him by a small child.
While he's not very fond of small children, he loves to show off his cunning nature to anyone who wishes to try his wit.
He also enjoys eating chicken and reading the fables of Aesop.
You can reach him directly, at FawkesTheFox (at) gmail (dot) com
Means 'beloved one' in Arabic (the reality of which is debatable, but she really likes the word). In addition to being a board writer, habiba was a wife of Mohammed, offers belly dancing instructional videos, helped politically reform Afghanistan, educates Americans on Arab culture, and breeds champion show dogs. You can contact her at habiba (dot) theboard (at) gmail (dot) com.
"He had an idea that even when beaten he could steal a little victory by laughing at defeat." - John Steinbeck, East of Eden
hamilton (at) theboard.byu.edu
Heidi is a long-time employee of the CIA, where she works on confidential projects in their World Domination bureau. If she had any free time, she would spend it watching the Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy, learning how to repair the reactor in nuclear submarines, or participating in the Sisterhood of the Funny Hats.
Sorry, I am not the Greek god of fire and the forge, although I did shake his hand once at a Christmas party. Feel free to write me, though, at firstname.lastname@example.org.
Last of the freelance hackers
Greatest sword fighter in the world
Stringer, Central Intelligence Corporation
Specializing in software-related intel
(music, movies & microcode)
Hobbes is Calvin's tiger. Sadly, he was removed from the comics page, and forced to find work elsewhere. He ended up here. Hobbes loves reading emails sent to him at email@example.com and he, like many other writers, keeps a blog, but it reveals his secret identity, so if you know who Hobbes is already, type his name into Google and go visit his blog. If not, you're out of luck; sorry.
I find myself jungling in Provo. I follow the Hobo Code.
I have recently updated my BLOG and returned to The Board after an unannounced hiatus. So... go visit.
If I wandered into a big room filled with questions requiring a random dose of my opinion... well... that would be something like nirvana... not the band... the state of indigestion.
I am Horatio
. And, I share my name with a carnivorous fish. At times, I claim to be perfect... but I also claim to be humble... at least more humble than most.
All I ask is that you laugh at yourself as much as I do.
You can contact me
directly... and I will be glad to serve you. If you wish to join the Horatio-tastic Fan Club
, you're gonna have to send me an e-mail and tell me why. Applications are currently being accepted.
That is all.
Or is it...?Guess What! I got quoted on the title bar! Have a look at Monday, November 14, 2005:
Undoubtedly many of you have asked yourselves, "How do I become a humble master?" I understand what brings you to ask such a question, for I was once faced with a similar quandary. And I found the answer, through feats of wit, daring, strength, and laziness. I would share with you the answer to that question, but unfortunately there can only be one Humble Master, and I am not ready to cease being the most humble person I know.
- Scaled the wall of a Spanish castle (in a dress no less!).
- Run through the streets of Beijing in an attempt to escape angry security guards.
- Sung the Men At Work song “Down Under” with a bunch of Quechua natives on the top of a mountain in the Andes.
- Been invited into the vault of the British Museum.
- Played cards with a bunch of burly sea dogs on small research vessel in the middle of the Pacific Ocean.
- Stepped off a train in South Harlem only to find myself in the middle of a murder scene.
- Been to Canada and found it to be a lovely place!
- Edit (circa 2013) I have also been kicked out of Canada thus my feelings toward the country have hardened of late.
And I still haven’t found what I’m looking for.
Edit (circa 2013) I think I have found what I was looking for!
Email me at hypatia(at)theboard(dot)byu(dot)edu!
i'm ignorant. honest.
Howdy. I'm Il Guanaco. Guanaco is a slang word for someone from El Salvador, where I served a mission many, many years ago. It also is a slang word for llama, so take from that what you will. The whole name Il Guanaco and the accompanying signature stem from me returning from a mission, applying to The Board, and watching Il Postino
and The Princess Bride
in a short period of time. Feel free to get in touch, firstname.lastname@example.org.
Have fun storming the castle,
Once upon a time, there was an inconveniently willful individual who caused problems by being overly opinionated, staunchly determined, inexhaustibly optimistic, and mildly sarcastic about everything in life. Said individual decided to put such talents to good use by writing for The Board and can be contacted by email at inconvenientlywillful(at)theboard(dot)byu(dot)edu.
I can't not sleep.
Jack of all questions, master of none. All around human being. You can email me at inverse[dot]insomniac[at]theboard.byu.edu. I promise I won't bite.
Do you really want to cross me right now? Really?
Whether it’s bearded, dwarf, or hybrid, the Iris bulb is native of northern temperate regions. Consequently, I am not a dwarf nor do I have a beard. In fact, I’m not even from the north, and I certainly don’t have much of a temper. I may be a hybrid, but that’s a different story. Email me at 100HourFlower.Iris at gmail.com, or feel free to read my thought garden
There was this one time when I saw an ant crawling across the sidewalk, struggling to lift a crumb that was at least three times his size. I watched in awe as he lifted it above his head, straightened his little sequestered form, and took one toddling, trembling step.
I watched intently, a drip of perspiration dripping unheeded down my forehead as I witnessed this struggle of will vs. gravity.
Then I stepped on him.
I Feel So Blessed To Be Apart Of This Movement
"...I thus drew steadily nearer to the truth, by whose partial discovery I have been doomed to such a dreadful shipwreck: that man is not truly one, but truly two." - Robert Louis Stevenson
Yep... I'm a jerk. I say things for shock value. I probably don't really believe what I say... but it is the first thing that comes to my head.
Hey... at least I'm honest about it.
I'm Harry's cousin. Not quite so well-known as he is. Far fewer attacks on my person, though.
Greetin's, ya scalliwags. This be my story, so lend me yer ears, er I'll take 'em by force.
I was born and raised aboard the ship which I later took fer me own, and christened her th' "Floatin' Appliance," th' terror o' the seas. It be a hard life, piratin' and it ain't fer everyone. It be even harder ta be a woman pirate. But I'm glad o' that, sure as I like plunder. Can you imagine the botheration there would be with every ship captained by some self-important wench? Nay, I prefer to be the only one. Me hair, ye dogs, is red as red can be, long, and tangled. Me clothes is dirtier'n sin, and me face is too. I got tar in me hands, 'nd holes in me togs, 'n cutlass in my hand. I gots a fine-lookin peg leg. I gots the best life in the world, the best ship 'n th' seas, and a chest er two fulla loot.
I tell it like it is. If yer expectin' mollycoddling from me, yer noggin 's on crooked. I don't like panty-waisted people, and it takes more than a little ta earn my respect. Some days I'm a Piece of Toast, some I'm a finger puppet, and some I'm a full-bodied human. I'm the best there is, lads, and ye'll never catch me.
Born and raised in chaotic New York, I love to escape to the backwoods of Kentucky where my grandparents have a cozy cabin. Provo is still big for my taste, but I'll be here for several more years since my husband just started law school. My husband and I just built our first house together. I was one of the last to graduate in interior design before they cut the major, and am in seventh heaven decorating my new house. I'm working on a children's book right now and in my down time I play racquetball, swim, read and play the violin.
First off let me tell you who I'm not:
-A Brazilian plastic surgeon back from the grave to roam the earth with the task of protecting the true identities of those that wish to remain unknown.
-The poor guy that gets a bum rap for messing around with Othelloâ€™s wife when he didnâ€™t do a thing.
-A misspelled watch.
-One of 874,372 Cassios in the world (numbers may vary).
The mere statement that I am Just Another Cassio and not Cassio means I am unique.
"Katya is a repository of random information. It's her favorite thing about herself."
- A. A. Melyngoch
"Think like an answer, not like a question." - Katya
Kicks and Giggles grew up in a handful of states, gathering broad interests and expertises along the way. This helped her grow into just your average coolest kid ever! She loves books, all kinds of music (minus LDS pop and most country; blech), movies, sports (but she ain't about no fair-weather fans), food, and friends. She also enjoys tv, her mom and dad, her dog, her adorable nieces and nephews, and her roommates. She pretends to play the guitar and loves to sing. Cross her, and you will be forced to compete in a belching contest with her. You will probably lose, but she will love you anyway. kicks.and.giggles(at)theboard.byu.edu
I take my name after the amazing and supreme Hindu god. This god is suppose to be the embodiment of truth. Like this god I would like to think that I represent truth. I have goals and ambitions that add a lot of spice to life! One of which is to continue in my name-sake's path and eventually become the supreme Board Writer. (Don't tell the other's though!)
You can read more about me at my blog that can be found at: http://krishnas-memoirs.blogspot.com/
Once upon a time, there was a little girl with a little intellectuality and some really big hair. She turned her big feet to the little road that led to the 100 Hour Board, and was accepted as a writer.
Now, she extends her big hand and big heart out to all the "little people," to actually be their friend and not rip their little heads off as a result of their ignorance.
P.S. I like to think I can connect with the guys, but not even growing up with 6 brothers could have prepared me for the dating scheme.
One of my fondest memories growing up was a family boxing match for FHE, which came to an abrupt end when my little brother punched me in the ear and almost knocked me out. But then again, I HAD given him a bloody nose about 10 seconds before he scrambled my brains...
I'm a big fan of Arizona sunsets, avocados, chocolate ice cream, and I can't eat peanut butter. This is not a dieting issue--it's an anaphylaxis issue. Oh, and I like to cook, but I don't like to eat my own leftovers.
I prefer to be happy most of the time. Sadness takes away my appetite and anger gives me indigestion.
E-mail me at email@example.com. But only if you want to. And check out my blog at http://ramblingsandrandomness.blogspot.com
With interests ranging from the plebeian to the high-falutin’, I enjoy indulging uses for useless trivia. Ask me about movies, music, and celebrity gossip. Of course, you can also find answers to most of your global concerns here or questions about careers.
I like computers, lasers, and Eirene.
I can be contacted at .
A brigand with a heart as big as his head is swollen with ill-placed pride in goodness-knows-what personality he fancies he possesses, Latro embodies that which is irrational, demagogical, often just outright wrong... and yet somehow mysteriously appealing. Kind of like the cut on the roof of your mouth which would heal if only you could stop tonguing it... but you can't. latro (at) byu.edu
Lavish is a(n) __________ (adjective) girl.
She comes from a __________ (adjective) family and grew up in the suburbs of a __________ (adverb) __________ (adjective) city.
Things Lavish likes include: __________ (noun), pink __________ (plural noun), and __________ (verb gerund) really quickly. In her spare time, Lavish likes to __________ (transitive verb), though she doesn't have as much time for it as she would like. When __________ (third person female pronoun) was seven, she learned to __________ (verb) and has enjoyed it ever since. __________ (interjection)!
Things Lavish dislikes include: __________ (verb gerund), frequent __________ (verb gerund), and people that __________ (verb) loudly. (But who likes any of those things anyway?)
People say that she is __________ (adjective) and very __________ (adjective). Lavish adds that she is also __________ (adjective). And she is.
As the Board's newest writer, Lavish hopes to __________ (verb).
Contact: lavishable at gmail dot com
Contrary to popular belief, I was not born on April 9. Nor am I a math major (a detail that has been a great source of confusion to almost everyone but myself). Still, if you ask a math question, there’s a pretty good chance I’ll answer it just because I’m something of a math geek. I am also an avid runner, an amateur linguist, and an obsessive cookie baker. But if you’ve been reading the Board for a few months you probably already know this—what you don’t
know is far more interesting, and perhaps more revealing than it might first appear.
For one, I am not a native of Utah, Orange County, Virginia, Madrid, or Oregon.
I am not a student teacher, a junior in college, a full-time employee, a computer programmer, or a Spanish minor.
My pastimes and hobbies definitely do not include shopping, video games, cleaning the bathroom, playing the guitar, completing the Friday crossword puzzle, or watching t.v.
I love to read, but have never completed The Silmarillion
, The DaVinci Code
, The Wind in the Willows
, Sense and Sensibility
, For Whom the Bell Tolls
, or Anne of Green Gables
I don’t particularly care for green olives, cold pizza, oatmeal raisin cookies, pickles, root beer, salmon, chocolate frosting, potato chips, hot dogs, or cherry Popsicles.
I generally avoid listening to Enya, Kenneth Cope, Johann Strauss, Metallica, and more than about five minutes of Peter Breinholt.
My favorite color is not yellow, my favorite season is not winter, my favorite movie is not The Wedding Planner
, my favorite hymn is not In Our Lovely Deseret
, and my favorite BYU Creamery ice cream flavor is not Bishop’s Bash.
Well. Now you know .
leibniz_100hourboard (at) yahoo.com
And I always answer fan mail :)
A contradiction in terms.
An inward struggle between political/economic/social ideologies.
A Beatles fan.
Lexi Khan likes alphabetizing. She also likes activism, Africa,
baking, blogging, Burma,
cooking, dancing, Darfur, dating,
English, excitement, feminism,
grammar, guitars, hope, Invisible Children,
joking, laughing, linguistics, music, pianos, politics,
reading, running, singing, teaching, teaching children peace,
woodwinds, writing, xylophones, and yoga.
Her email is that (dot) lexi (dot) character (at) gmail (dot) com. You should definitely email her for any or no reason.
I am just your normal, every-day, mild-mannered librarian, bent on world domination. I am here to inform you about libraries and shenanigans.
Three cool things about Link:
- Link has a propensity to cite internet links in his answers.
- He's not incredibly smart, but he has a big sword and carries bombs in his backpack. When playing video games like Super Smash Brothers, he whoops it up with his super smash moves.
- That infinite sign in front of Link's signature looks like a link.
Ah, the many facets of the Link.
The Blownapart family name came into being when one of Napoleon Bonaparte's illegitimate children came through Ellis Island and an immigration worker wrote it down wrong. Linoleum, in family tradition, likes to talk politics, economics, and current events and is currently planning to build a world empire. Join the revolution through Linoleum.World.Empire (at) gmail (dot) com.
Loki is not a trickster. Loki is most certainly not a god of lies. Loki should be trusted implicitly at all times. Loki is devilishly handsome. And really, really wise.
Life consisting in not holding good cards, however in play your cards better.
LEARN CHINESE: Board -
Lucky numbers: 7 9 23 14 2 19
I'm not here to make friends; I'm here to win.
If you die it's not my fault.
Mental Organism Designed Only for Killing
I'm one of your pretty typical BYU co-eds who decided to get married and have a baby before graduation. Pa Grape and I have been married for just about 3 years now and are both working hard on finishing our degrees. Mine happens to be in Anthropology, which I love and hope to actually graduate in. My "little grape" was born in May of 2004, a happy, healthy, inquisitive little girl with a big happy smile. I was talked into posting on the board when "mommy" questions popped up and no one on the board had any first hand knowledge. I don't respond to questions most of the time unless it has anything to do with being a current parent, expectant parent, or family in general. With school and an infant, who has the time?!? If you ever want, you can email me at grapefamily at gmail.com!
I don't think anyone is really all that interested in me, except for the person who wrote in that one question
Marguerite loves the theater, traveling, and chasing after dashing [English]men.
She particularly likes questions about Church policy, Broadway, barrels of monkeys and desserts.
You can e-mail her at marguerite@the board.byu.edu
Sometimes I like to take a drink from the taller drinking fountain on purpose, so it forces the tall people to have to awkwardly crouch down and drink from the shorter drinking fountain. This amuses me. You can contact me at marzipan (at) theboard (dot) byu (dot) edu, if you so desire.
One more thing: I am not
I love books, babies, and baking. I've also been known to dabble in chemistry and playing the organ. Someday I plan on being one of those semi-famous mommy bloggers who specializes in cooking/baking/photography/digital editing/parenting (/sarcasm). Email me at maven(at)theboard(dot)byu(dot)edu!
It's pronounced "mee-dee-awk-reh-tees."
Michealangelo is my hero. Both the painter and the hero on a half-shell turtle power.
Michealangeles Da Fiobaccio
You can find out my whole life story by just reading the archives. Also, I'm always up for reader-writer conversations, so feel free to send me a message: mico (at) theboard (dot) byu (dot) edu
Hello. I am Mighty Quinn. I am the mightiest of all Quinns. Does anyone dare dispute this? Let them come forth and try to withstand my mightiness. I am Mighty Quinn. I am finished.
Fan mail and requests for pictures of my abs may be sent to firstname.lastname@example.org along with a self-adressed, stamped envelope.
I am a former microbiology major (too much chemistry for me). I am married with one child (well, a cat, but she is spoiled out of her little kitty mind). I will be working on a sociology degree with psychology and anthro minors. I am fascinated to the point of obssession by forensics and archeology. When I have the money for it, I am nearly addicted to MinuteMaid orange juice. (It's a good thing that I can't afford it all that often, because it would really interfere with my enjoyment of chocolate.) Oh, excuse me, I have to get the cat off the top of the cabinets....
Every story of the present has to begin in the past. Mine is no different.
It begins five years ago. I'd been living in the city for a few years, nearing the end of a stint in the local university that had seemed more like a prison term, an appropriately-named BS being my chance at parole. Word went around that there was going to be this gathering of the elite, upper-level students. A chance to mingle and network. A mycelium grown from the graduating class. My ennui and curiosity battled, and the winner decided I was going.
Everyone there was drunk on the liquor of pseudointellectual ostentation and narcissistic self-congratulation. Five minutes of being force-fed this elixir and I had hangover. I sat holding a drink I had no desire to finish. This was supposed to be a gathering of the intelligentsia, the cream of the cerebral crop. And yet the bullcrap was getting traded around faster than shares on a crashing stock market. Proto-Nietzsche wannabes argued with neo-Marxists about whether the interplay between the culture of mass media and politics promulgated political apathy. The anticonfluentialism crowd debated the merits of assigning existentialist undercurrents to previously-considered-genuinely post modernist literary trends. Some wonk had the ear of a half-dozen suckers and actually had them convinced that unrestricted cloning would economically benefit third-world countries. And all the while some self-proclaimed "meta-Dadaist" interrupted conversations with drivel that he affirmed was absurdism, but was really just rehashed deconstructionist arguments every comparative lit student learns their first semester. At any rate, only he found it funny.
Everyone was dark. Theirs was the darkness of ignorance. Mine was the darkness of loathing, a devouring hate that burned without flame, without heat, consuming everything it touched. There must have been something explosive in the recesses of my soul, because that night it hit its flash point.
I don't remember the instant of the explosion. Like eyes after a camera flash or a close-proximity thermonuclear burst, there was blinding white, then deep sanguine red, then resolution of shapes, and then a full-hue technicolor image of the damage, permanently seared into my brain. The hollow-eyed, open-mouthed stare of a man who's just had his entire psyche suddenly disemboweled by a single slash of the truth. He was sitting on the couch next to me, a slinky third-year film studies grad student hanging on his shoulder. The conformational space of the apartment stayed constant, my rise from the couch balanced by the fall of the glass from his limp hand.
Some say that our time runs a lot faster than the gods' does. I know now that they see everything in painfully slow motion, fleeting quantum moments resolved in all their agonizing detail. I flailed the swords of Truth and Reason like a berserk samurai slaughtering a flock of pigeons with a pair of razor-sharp katanas. The darkness surrounding me turned to red. The red of my anger and their terror, as one by one their faces contorted with the epiphanaic horror that strikes when a man looks back on the path of his life and sees nothing but an empty street ornamented solely with windblown litter. The gore of eviscerated pride sluiced over the floor, mingling with the absinthe that my fellow couch-sitter had been drinking a New York minute before. And I stopped only when the uttermost drop had been spilt.
I dripped the corrosive humors of lacerated vanity behind me as I left, marking a trail that any one of them could have followed. They ostracized me instead. I felt like a vegetarian given the boot from the National Barbecue Convention. I didn't know what my next errand would be, but I knew that it would come for I Had Been Chosen. It's like the gods of wisdom suddenly woke up screaming and saw that reality was worse than the nightmare. In their wrath they conscripted me as their avenging angel, the Eumenides incarnate.
I am Misaneroth. The hater of stupidity.
misaneroth at byu dot edu
I'm just me. That's it and that's all, man.
I feel pretty,
Oh, so pretty,
I feel pretty and witty and bright!
And I pity
Any girl who isn't me tonight.
I feel charming,
Oh, so charming
It's alarming how charming I feel!
And so pretty
That I hardly can believe I'm real.
Mojoschmoe: an average chum that loves to read the 100 hour board while eating low-calorie ice cream. She loves to misspell wurds to tork off the etidors. She also loves to hang out with her beefcake of a man husband, watch Everybody Loves Raymond, run laps around campus, and make fun of the BodMan Fragrance Spray commercials. She hopes one day to find happiness in something other than all the things listed above, be a cute soccer mom in a mini-van, and change the world, one person’s diet at a time. Email her at mojoschmoe(at)gmail(dot)com.
A linguistic unit, as well as being short for "Alohomora"
Do you really think I'm going to help?
Constantly in motion, I was born among the stars. Not Hollywood, mind you sonny, but somewhere between Alpha Centauri and a nebulous cloud.
I came to earth to participate in a statistical study for spelling from my planet. As it turns out, English is the most-concerned and least-practical language for spelling to be involved, so I came to BYU (as mormons really got their thang) to complete this study.
And, um, we come in peas. Yeah. That's what we're saying
I'm very private. Kinda. No info about me, sir. Ma'am. Werf.
Mrs. Frisby is my name, and literature is my game. secretofnym at theboard dot byu dot edu
I am the wife of Motionite! He's a dream ;-)
You already know me as a different writer. But I was recently married to another Board writer, and we decided not to have our main aliases marry each other. But I finally decided I needed an alias that was married, you know, so I could answer your questions that relate to being married, and so it wouldn't be a big deal if I mentioned in a response that my husband said such and such. So, I created Mrs. X.
Pandas are my spirit animal.
Email me at o(dot)malley(at)theboard.byu.edu
Yeah, I served a mission to the Philippines. It was a great two years. I'm really here to help when I'm needed, because how often do you need the advice of an RM who went to the Philippines? Well, when you do, I'm here. And you will need it eventually!
I like to bake and am currently in search of the perfect apron, I also read JSTOR for fun. Think what you will, it's probably right.
Nifflers are gentle and even affectionate. They are strongly attracted to anything shiny, hence they can be very useful for finding treasure. Email me new treasures or questions at Board.Niffler at gmail dot com.
It was snowing in California on the late spring day that Nike was born, and her life has been full of unexpected surprises ever since. Despite being born into snow (okay, maybe not literally
into snow, but there was snow outside the hospital), Nike hates the cold and especially scraping ice off her windshield, but loves Cafe Rio and Caesar salads. She loves doing pretty much everything with her husband, especially dancing, reading and decorating their new condo. One of her heroes is Marjorie Pay Hinckley. Nike is a big fan of girl-power, sleeping and not watching football games for more than two minutes.
Nike got her name from the ancient Greek goddess of victory, and she likes being victorious as opposed to not. (And, yes, she does also tend to be a walking Nike [the athletic wear company] ad.) If you'd like to talk to Nike about raindrops on roses, whiskers on kittens or brown paper packages tied up with strings (or anything else, if you can think of anything better than those things), e-mail her at nike.triumph at gmail dot com (nike.victory was already taken!).
No chance, no possibility, no way.
Dispatch, this is 619 responding to your inquiry. ETA 100 hours.
I'm a simple girl who's a little bit country, and a little bit rock and roll, sometimes I'm even a little bit European Techno. I enjoy Pina Colada flavored Slurpees, getting caught in the rain, and I'm not all that into Yoga. Give me a good game of racquetball anytime...as long as you don't mind winning. I also like to eat snow, dance in fountains, climb mountains, and watch city lights/stars. I like people more than I like books, but I don't read them as well. I love to tell stories, and you can learn a lot about me by reading them. You miss the hand gestures though...maybe you're ok with that. Novel Concept
Any questions? Send them to the Board. Care to converse? N o v e l c o n c e p t (at) g m a i l (dot) c o m
Minister in the Ministry of Miscellany.
Welcome to the studio. I needed an upgrade, but
going all the way to the top of the SLR's was a
little intimidating. At any rate, as a pretty darn
good little camera anyway, I try to capture at
least pieces and snapshots of anything in range.
Portfolio available upon request. My e-mail is stillsbyolympus (at) gmail (dot) com, and my blog is stillsbyolympus.blogspot.com
. Also: Mr. Olympus Dating App
Oh, and I collect glass bottles. If anyone is going somewhere and wonders if we writers want souvenirs.
You don't have to agree with me, but if you don't, you're wrong.
"Optimist" is a word which here refers to a person who thinks hopeful and pleasant thoughts about nearly everything. For instance, if an optimist had his left arm chewed off by an alligator, he might say, in a hopeful and pleasant voice, "Well, this isn't too bad. I don't have my left arm anymore, but at least nobody will ever ask me whether I am right-handed or left-handed," but most of us would say something more along the lines of "Aaaaah! My arm! My arm!"
theboardoptimistic at gmail.com is a good way to reach Optimistic. He likes to get emails. No foolin'.
He also keeps a blog. You should read it. Really.
Give me your dumb, your inane,
Your huddled questions yearning to be answered,
The wretched refuse of your teeming mind.
Send these, the grammarless, spelling-tossed to me:
I lift my lamp, your answer soon to find.
According to my grandfather, the owl is "a time-honored symbol of knowledge and wisdom." Owlets can be intelligent and cute, small yet annoying. Most days, I'm some combination of three out of four.
owlet at theboard dot byu dot edu
Look upon my works, ye mighty, and despair.
Ƥ. Ɗ. Kirĸe is now known as Professor Kirke. New packaging, same (great?) taste!
Send him an email at p (dot) d (dot) kirke (at) theboard (dot) byu (dot) edu.
You won't see me answering too many different kinds of questions on here. I do love LDS doctrine and questions about it. Questions concerning fringe doctrine, apologetics, and false doctrine also tend to catch my attention. I am currently pursuing a career in marriage and family therapy/counseling. To that end, I try to look at the relationship and moral dilemma questions and offer what I can, but will certainly avoid the soap opera questions some people submit. Regardless, I am always glad to offer my $.03 (I try to go the extra cent worth). If you ever would like to contact me privately, you are more than welcome to email me at grapefamily at gmail.com.
Am I tomorrow's greatest author? Today's aspiring, Beatles song inspiring writer- merely reaching to paperback status. See my words in print, my creativity shared with the world. Could tomorrow hold more? For today, I'm just a paperback writer.
Email me anytime for clarifications, personal questions, or just to chat!
paperback_writer(at)theboard(dot)byu(dot)edu. I love making friends.
I love music and musical theatre. My dream role would be either Dolly Levi or Maria von Trapp. I want to travel to see for myself all of the places that I've heard and dreamed about, especially Australia, the Holy Land, Siberia, and England. I've always loved reading and have been deeply influenced by Little Women, Anne Shirley, and Jane Austen. I love to create things, and want to develop more artisitc skills in the next ten years, including: playing the harp, oil paining, basketweaving, fashion design, and photography. I love ice cream, wind, maps, singing, fresh fruit, swimming, slippers, reading, climbing trees, my almanac, and snow. I hate free fall, Lord of the Rings, house pets, raisins, nylons, and reaping the fruit of my procrastination.
She is a rock. She is an island. And she can be emailed at byupetra(at)gmail.com.
Go confidently in the direction of your dreams.
If you're looking for useless facts or random knowledge, especially those pertaining to anything on campus, Phoenix is your man. Since he has very little success with the women he usually avoids any questions that may include dating, or anything else highly influenced by opinion. A man truly lacking in people skills, he prefers to tinker and to deal with things that are more hands-on. You just might see him someday (after he has a house) sitting in his garage working on his next project, or sitting on his porch with a shotgun across his lap. For now I'll just have to make due with working on my motorcycle in the parking lot.
Phoenix dot TheBoard at gmail dot com
You might think I lost all hope at that point. I did. And as a result I perked up and felt much better.
I must admit I don't have the faintest idea of what is going on.
"He is in a constant state of stage fright, he says, because he never knows what part of his life he is going to have to act in next."
- Kurt Vonnegut, Slaughterhouse-Five
, Chapter 2
I'm in a different location every time I answer questions. Where am I this time?
pilgrim (at) theboard dot byu dot edu
Cute, versatile, and won't shrink (usually), unlike that Cotton kid. Come on, you know you want to be friends. Email me at email@example.com
"The full some of me is something...happy in this, she is not yet so old but she may learn; happier than this; she is not bred so dull but she can learn. I never did repent for doing good, nor shall not now...Here in [my] hairs, the painter plays the spider, and hath woven a golden mesh t'entrap the hearts of men...This comes too near the praising of myself; therefore no more of it." (The Merchant of Venice, III.ii, 161-6; III.iv,10-11; III.ii, 124-6; III.iv, 22-3)
As un-anonymous as a pseudoname...I mean pseudonym gets. Claim to fame is a close relationship to past writers. And a new-found obsession with Connecticut.
Quandary is a quandary. You can talk to him at quandary (at) theboard.byu.edu.
: Luminescence, phantasm, delirium, smaragdine, antediluvian
: queen (dot) alice (at) the board (dot) byu (dot) edu
I mention it a lot in my answers, so I'll mention it here: If you are a BYU student, you can receive free counseling. Make an appointment at the Counseling Center
, located in 1500 WSC. 801.422.3035
What? You think my name is funny? It evolved out of letters that people would use to end words that they were spelling. How do you spell cat? C-a-t-q-u-p-i-n-t-h-y... Not by my own doing, of course, did my name come into this world. The jumble of letters came together as if they were meant to be.
That's a long a and a silent e on the end. I'm a stickler for accuracy. And in all honesty, would you want anything else? I didn't think so.
Random, youngest son of Oberon, likes to play the drums and fences (a family tradition).
I'm Rather Dashing. That's about all there is to it.
It is the fondest wish of Rating Pending's heart to cram as many funny and/or random observations into life as possible. Even though the jury is still out on his rating, (his wife, Leven Outa Ten, thinks he's pretty cool. Most days), he would love to discuss movies, medicine, or pretty much anything else with you. And answering opinion questions in a humorous or slightly derisive manner? This is like injecting bubbling, liquid happiness straight into the vein for him.
Brownie points to whoever knows where this comes from. No, that is not an inviation to email me telling me that you are so clever and culturally aware. Spends her time being a semi-aquatic, egg-laying mammal.
Email address: firstname.lastname@example.org
I wouldn't like to bring attention to myself, but I have been through a lot of my life. My life hasn't been the easiest. I have, though, made the best of it. I have been diligent, even RESILIENT
, through it all.
Who is Resilient? Good question, because at times I am not even sure that. I do know that I enjoy working with computers, I love talking, and often times initiating some friendly banter. I also love reading current events and weird articles. In fact, I collect them. You can see them HERE
Want to learn more of what occurs in Resilient's mind? Contact ME
directly or come visit my BLOG
You may be asking what the difference between a puppy and a Wonder Puppy is. Well, let me tell you. About six extra letters, some capitalization differences, and the ability to type. Yeah, that's about it.
lover of food, mountains, and cheesy movies
Scout fancies herself as a seeker of adventure and experiences. When she knows something, she’ll be glad to share it with you, even if it digresses from your original question—and her original answer. But tangents are good, right?
I am an oldest child, and even an oldest cousin (on one side of the family). I am from California, but am most definitely not a California girl. I was born in the Midwest. I was the star pitcher and first baseman (first basewoman?) on my 11-12-year-old junior league softball team, but quit when I moved up to the 13-14-year-old league and was demoted to right field. I like Thai food and pumpkin pie. I cannot crochet, sew, bake bread, or tap dance (although I have tried all at one time or another). I prefer cross-country skiing to downhill skiing. I have never broken a bone, but I have been hospitalized. I am a compulsive gum-chewer, but I try to be subtle about it. I collect (sometimes inadvertently) pencils, pennies, paperclips, scarves, books, CDs, notebooks, BYU Bookstore bags, hairbrushes, cake mixes, and luggage bags. I don’t like mopping the floor, watching football, playing charades, or going sledding. I do like doing dishes, shoveling snow, making soup, eating blueberries, playing scrabble, and riding my bike to school.
Oh yes. And I sing second alto in University Chorale. But you already knew that.
Nothing I love more than small moments of unexpected bliss.
Here to help with tips on making the perfect batch of popcorn and just about everything else.
Email me at serendipity(at)theboard(dot)byu(dot)edu
Head psychic of the Santa Barbara police department.
Don't listen to the Shoulder Angel! He's trying to lead you down the "path of righteousness." I'm gonna lead you down the path that rocks!
When I'm not writing under other aliases for GQ and Esquire I put in a little time for the 100 Hour Board. No wait, when I'm not reading GQ and Esquire I put in a little time for the 100 Hour Board. That's it. Anyway, I love writing and I figure I offer a unique, preppy perspective to what can be a pretty monotonous Board sometimes. But I do love writers like Saurus, Latro, Drama Queen, Thor, Ambrosia, and Toasteroven that keep it mixed up. I also love to cook and am an accomplished culinary artist. I love all sports, especially baseball, good poetry (no free verse), watches, BYU, good grammar, Smallville, Coke, Williams-Sonoma, DeBussy, Ray Charles, Tony Benett, Norah Jones (with a little Jay-Z for the dances), Banana Republic, people who modify their verbs with adverbs (you're doing well, not good), my wonderful parents (I love you Mom), and a certain group of people I like to refer to as "da' ladies." I speak Spanish and Latin fluently and struggle with my French. I work-out everyday; play the sax, piano, and am an accomplished singer. I've also got some mean Dance 180 skills.
I hate baking, short-sleeve white dress shirts, sanctimonious platitudes about relationships, Greek, and that one kid that always asks the dumbest questions, in my class, on the Board there are no dumb questions, okay there are a lot but we answer them anyway. I'm from California's bay area and am double majoring in Latin and Philosophy (pre-law).
Please, no monetary contributions, a gift certificate to Williams-Sonoma will suffice. Send all comments or questions to skippydelorean at byu.edu
I am Skittles! That is all.
tl,dr: I'm Skittles.
I can't fall asleep if the closet doors are open.
Is Uffish Thought's not-so-secret alter-ego. She was invented back when Uffish Thought was neither male nor female to answer relationship questions. When all that changed, songs of inexperience kept answering the girlier questions, because Uffish liked the name a lot.
songs of inexperience is a 23 year old female, who loves to give and receive romantic advice, although she can't claim to be an expert, and is progressively discovering that femininity is darn fun. Skirts, heels, dangly earrings, and actually managing to do things with her hair make her all goofy and happy. She likes to cook, keeps trying to learn to sew, loves staying up late and giggling about boys, likes children, enjoys dating and going on dates, and sometimes even likes cleaning. She is not ashamed of any of this. Well, not often.
So if you'd like romantic advice based on very little real life experience, good solid common sense, and years of observation, she'll probably jump at the chance. If you'd like to contact her, shoot an email to uffishwerf at gmail dot com. She promises to respond in a timely manner.
Steen is Dutch for rock. Steen is pronounced "stane." steen likes rocks and is probably climbing one right now so feel free to contact her at steen(at)theboard(.)byu(.)edu. Rantings and ravings can be found at apinkflamingo.wordpress.com.
Like a sego lily, but with armor and a spiked tail.
Still Water runs deep...at least, I like to think so.
Made possible with contributions from readers like you! Thank you!
Hi, I'm Tangerine. I'm California grown, and I'm sweet and juicy, with only an occasional seed (I hope). I love Wales. I also love race horses. I love lots of other things too, so check out my blog
. I also like to hear from you: byutangerine (at) gmail (dot) com
When you accurately perceive the fluidity of things, you can also begin to perceive the constancy behind them: the creative, transformative, boundless, immutable Tao.
Combat boots? Check.
Totally hot sunglasses? Check.
Looks like we're ready to go.
Are you the audience? Or am I?
You do not have security clearance for this information. The Conspiracy will not easily forget your prying.
Find me at thebayesianconspiracy(at)theboard(dot)byu(dot)edu
Side note: it turns out this alias is rather common on the Internet. I got the inspiration from it being referenced, once, and was unaware of its popularity. I'm not associated with anyone or anything other than what I have listed here on the Board.
Yah. I'm pretty cool mon.
You can still reach me at email@example.com
I answer PR kind of questions as directed. "Will you go out with me?", "What happened to the board?", "What is your policy on ____?", and other such questions are the types of questions I handle.
The Captain is the visionary writer of the board. Though she is oft compared to William Henely's poem "Invictus," she is best represented by the Captain in Whitman's poem "O Captain My Captain." The Captain is says it like she sees it, usually to the dismay of the censors who work over time to keep her writings ‘unoffensive.' Better dead than liberal is her motto. The Captain is from Utah, but she has lived a good deal of her life in and outside of happy valley. She loves to read, debate politics, and call it like she sees it. She loved BYU football until it was recently destroyed by the superb coaching abilities of Gary Crowton. She also enjoys making Scout's life as miserable as possible. Being a visionary, the Captain is often misunderstood and ridiculed. Sadly, her truth is often hidden and watered down by the censors on the board. Any comments or questions can be addressed to the Captain's personal assistant Jon Rowe.
Yeah, I'm The Cheat. What are you gonna do about it? ...That's what I thought. Now let me finish. I help Strong Bad cheat at stuff. Hence, the name. Duh. I also DJ down at Bubs' on Friday nights. I'll put you on the guest list if you give me twenty bucks. I make cartoon animations with my computer. Don't ask me to make a video for your band. You guys suck. My main man Strong Mad protects me from larger predators, like being sat on by Strong Sad or Pom Pom. I've got a gold tooth. Wanna see it? Tough. ...Okay, fine. Now turn that camera off before I throw this bust of Van Buren at it.
At one point in my life I had a friend who called me "Chickiebaby." It was an endearing nickname and I liked it. At one point while I was in the process of out-growing that nickname someone asked me if I was a Chickiebaby or a Cheeky Chickie. I've always had a bit of a witty humor (to some people at least) so the new name stuck.
If you need to get a hold of me: firstname.lastname@example.org
But it better be important- or flattering. I'll take flattering e-mails any day.
The firstest thing you should know about ME is that I lOvE fOoTbAlL! It is pretty much the swankiest sport evah. Everything else is like significantly stupider.
Yeah. Want to get pedicures?
I sweep in the waundwy woom.
I like to throw things out the window, but all those dang screens get in the way.
the dot defenestrator at theboard dot byu dot edu
It's a campus that knows how to keep its secrets, but one private eye is determined to find the answers to the readers' persistent questions.
You may occasionally catch a glimpse of him, hidden in shadow, brim of a fedora pulled low and hands deep in the pockets of a weathered, tawny trench coat. But unless you're who he's looking for, a glimpse is all you'll get. His job is to get to the bottom of things. Whether at his trusty desk looking over his notes or out walking the lonely beat, one thing is for sure: The Detective is on the case.
Contribute to his trusty "In" stack: the [dot] detective [at] theboard [dot] byu [dot] edu.
I am not a doctor in real life, but I play one on the 100 Hour Board.
Proverbs 17:28--"Even a fool, when he holdeth his peace, is counted wise: and he that shutteth his lips is esteemed a man of understanding." Don't expect me to keep my lips shut--but you better esteem me as a man of understanding anyway! After all, I'm a writer for the omniscient 100 Hour Board! ...even if I am almost, at times, a Fool.
Old nickname. Read my stuff long enough and you'll figure out why.
The Franchise can bring it on both ends of the court. His experience as a baller is surpassed, though, by his knowledge of sport. If there is anyone that needs to know how to exploit a cover-2 scheme, why Duncan and Parker are unstoppable on the pick-an-roll, or what the largest city without a major-league sports team is, The Franchise knows. Like any competitor, his opinions are strongly held, but he respects great opponents. His pet peeve is someone cheering for a sports team they have no ties to.
Windex is not to be consumed.
As the son of two college professors, I was involuntarily immersed in academia at a very young age. I entered BYU with every intention of graduating as soon as possible and finding myself a “real job”. I stayed away from the Honors Program to avoid writing a thesis. I chose a major and minor in order to make myself marketable. I began searching for jobs in the east, west, and even Texas, four months before graduating. I finished my coursework one summer, walked in August, loaded up my car, hugged my parents and sister, and drove 1500 miles to begin my life in the real world. Suddenly, without homework, lectures, textbooks, and a university library within walking distance, my life seemed to have little purpose. My job was brain-numbing, a social life was forced upon me, and I began to feel lost and helpless. As I teetered on the verge of despair, I did the only thing I could think of. I went to the BYU homepage, chose a completely impractical master’s program, took the GRE with no preparation and got a near-perfect score, frantically emailed past professors to beg for letters of recommendation, wrote a stunning letter of intent, and submitted my application on precisely the day it was due. Within two months I was accepted into my program and am now back in the BYU bubble, happily engaged in theory and research. Just the thought of leaving academia again makes me tremble and I intend to pursue a doctoral degree and return to BYU as a professor as quickly as possible.
I have no comment at this time. Just kidding. I have lots of comments. Ironic, eh?
If you have questions, comments, concerns, stories, or jokes, e-mail me at greatdeflector(at)theboard(dot)byu(dot)edu
Little fish; big pond. One of many. Lady among society. Politics, religion, sociological concepts of cultural values. City girl.
I investigate the facts. Plain and simple. If you want the dirt on someone, come to me. I have competitive rates. (That'll be 34 cookies.) Drop me a line at boardinvestigator(at)gmaildotcom.
My life quest is to become the world's best grandma. As for the alias, I am the last one in my family with the last name among any of my generation... preserver of the faith, and finding BYU to be a place of longevity. Thus, I am the Last of my Line.
Lying is abhorred.
Truthbending is an art form.
Extends neither beneath nor beyond the corners of the mouth, thank you very much.
Email (if you care): TheManwithaMustache (at) gmail (dot) com
Sometimes someone needs to tell the truth, even if it hurts.
Don't kill me.
I'm a lady of mystery and I never reveal my secrets. I was rescued from a tower by a knight in shining armor. Now I'm now here at the 100 Hour Board answering questions and getting answers through means of my own.
Yup - I'm new. I'll try not to break anything.
Presto! I got someone else to answer a question for me.
I'm on campus all the time, and I don't change much. My friends also like to call me ctrl+m, or File Format Paragraph. You will commonly find me quoting phrases such as 1 Quote:Block, 1 List:1 Indent, and 1 QMCO:LCYM.
Two cents or less for an opinion.
we don't do anything
theBYUpirates at gmail dot com
I have been on the board for two and some years, and I’m still counting. I work with BYUSA and make myself known when the Board receives technical questions about its existence or policies (unwritten, or lack thereof). Sometimes I get to apologize for a writer who has taken sarcasm to a new level—-a disheartening gesture—-but someone has to be in charge of this crazy volunteer answering service. That’s right. Volunteerism. And you thought working for free couldn’t give us (read: me) fame and fortune.
He was ordained a minister of an unnamed congregation in a vision. He has been called to answer your questions, no matter how random they might be. Although he hasn’t gone through any seminaries he has received tutelage in the 100 Hour Board archives.
Contact me at: T h e R i g h t R e v @ g m a i l . c o m
We are many. And we are one. We like being plural. Our plurality validates that which needs no validation--that we are always right.
My better half. No, really. Way better.
Could you please walk through the alarms again? Could you please finish that Jamba Juice before you come in here? Do you have an after-hours pass? I'm sorry, you need an "A" lot sticker to park here. For heavens sake, don't lick the paintings.
A self-styled realistic optimist. I don't actually have a boat. I love my family, sports, long-sleeved shirts, food, and expensive hobbies that I can't afford. Email me at skipper[at]theboard[dot]byu[dot]edu!
The snake whisperer sees snakes everywhere and answers to many names, including Lord Snakington, The Earl of Snakesburg, Snake Snakington III, Baron Von Slitherworth, and Sir Hiss-a-plenty.
Werf was snarky, a word which here means telling you things you probably already know.
I have an unhealthy obsession with Patrick Rothfuss and the souls of other humans. That is all you need to know.
Feel free to email me at email@example.com
"In 1974 D.F. Ricks described an exceptional therapist whom the author called 'supershrink'. This therapist, who worked with highly disturbed adolescents, demonstrated exceptional outcomes when the boys were later examined as adults." -Waiting for the Supershrink: An Empirical Analysis of Therapist Effects
by Okiishi et alia.
In other words: Supershrink = short therapy time, lasting effects.
Disclaimer: The Supershrink writer of the 100 Hour Board is not an actual professional.
I appreciate fancy words and stuff.
I am the guy who makes the 100 Hour Board world go round. I'm only somewhat kidding on that. I'm responsible for any updates, fixes, new features, etc., and I usually do a decent job of keeping on top of it.
The Word of the Board given to the writer M.O.D.A.Q.
Aristotle taught that virtue is to be found somewhere in between excess and deficiencyâ€”the Golden Mean. I like the middle groundâ€”moderation and temperance are my friends. I like to think of myself as an intellectual, although, as my roommate once told me, I am an academic, but academia doesnâ€™t define me. I am fascinated by the human experience, and would be thrilled to answer your questions about what it means to be a member of the human communityâ€”historically, psychologically, philosophically, spiritually, socially, grammatically...
With my prickly branches and purple flowers, I feel sort of out of place. But I am unique. And large. And I hold up well to storms, droughts, weed killer, and the occasional deluge of caustic remarks.
I was born in Las Vegas at 11:49 a.m., and was a beautiful 7 1/2 lb. baby. Things have pretty much gone down hill ever since. I enjoyed elementary school, and received an award for being the first kid to count to 100. When I wasn't striving to attain my academic pursuits, I enjoyed chasing girls around the playground, eating paste, and forcing my friend to crawl around on his hands and knees pretending to be Battle-Cat, while I rode around on his back, playing the role of He-Man. I got sent to detention 16 times in the fourth grade. I claimed it was because they weren't challenging me enough in school. My mom said it was because I was "A disobedient little punk."
High-School seemed to drag on for centuries. I ran for Freshman class Vice-President, and Senior Class President, and was soundly defeated both thimes by a cheerleader whose campaign featured long sexy legs, and skimpy mini-skirts. I went to UNR my freshman year of college, where I was priviledged to witness fraternity life first hand. Not that I was in one, but every night my room-mate would come home, say hi to me, puke his guts out, and go to bed. I spent most of my time in Reno working for food at a local hospital. I had no money, and they had no jobs available, but they agreed to let me eat whatever I wanted at the hospital cafeteria if I'd "volunteer" for a few hours each day. This worked out quite well for me.
That winter I left for a mission in Brazil. I loved the people, and I had some incredible spiritual experiences. But other than that it was just a whole lot of walking around in the mud, with drunk people swearing at you, and teenage girls hissing at you all the time.
I came home from my mission, and by some miracle (or a clerical error), I got an acceptance letter to BYU. I wound up here, where I met a girl who I fell desperately in love with. Then we broke up. Then we got back together. Then we did that partial break up thing. Then we got engaged, and married in The Salt Lake Temple. We found an adorable little house over on the West Side of town. And we have lived happily ever after, underneath that cute house.
Like the fairy. Not the noise a gumball makes when dropped into a metal colander.
I can be reached at Tink(at)theboard(dot)byu(dot)edu.
Once upon a time, there was a humble dork sophomore who used to make fun of himself and didn't talk to anybody at ward prayer/stare/scare. He sure was shy and dorky and video-game addicted and Internet-addicted.
One time, that kid was in a long and necessary line at the old eigtch bee double hockey sticks computer lab that was humongous on the second floor and down the hall and he was that weird flyer again that said "D+C 89 never mentioned this"...and he wondered what it was about. It said theboard.byu.edu.
"Oh, a message board," he thought. "To argue about stuff or laugh about junk. I love those."
Before printing, our dork looked up the website. Why, he wasn't able to post anything! It was just a posting of a really long thread! What manner of board was this?!
He looked at the about us page and learned all about it.
"Ah, I understand now," said he. He then asked a question, asked how to become a writer, and asked another question. He decided it was time for Toasteroven to be a writer. It was meant to be so. He was meant to join its ranks and dispense anything but wisdom to the masses. At this point, you should be bored. This is the fifth profile. It changes. Like me. And I'll give a dollar to the person who actually notices this for the first time and mails me at thebyutoasteroven at yahoo.com, because I want to see if anyone would actually trudge through such arrogant drivel.
And now back to our story, pontification, and ego-trip.
Our dorky writer has now come of age. Since he joined the board, he has now got glasses that are HOT, according to Bored Engineer and Eleka Nahmen, thus he is HOT, and the ladies love him when they didn't, he got a new car for himself that has a CD player and working A/C, he got to upgrade from a desktop to laptop, quit video games cold turkey (though he has relapsed occasionally or will do it socially), he has been on dates, been asked out more than once, been in a relationship, been called as Sunday school teacher for the third time, got a new roommate and next-door neighbor that are awesome, and an enlarged head and a blog complete with a couple dozen fans.
And that's why you ought to apply. Because one day, you too could have all this happen to you.
And don't ask us how, silly. You need to search the archives. To date, I'm the only one I know who asked how to become a writer then figured it out and then apologized. That is why there is a question I asked that says "Forgive me for the previous question I asked", but we don't know what it was. Well, now you do.
I promise BYUSA has not edited this profile.
A history for you. April 12th, 2004 Toasteroven discovers the board. April 13th, 2004 Toasteroven asks how to become a writer. April 14th, 2004 Toasteroven wakes up and searches the archives, which says search the archives. April 16th, 2004 Toasteroven gets his first question posted. Also gets a 100-hour board app because he woke up and searched the archives. April 19th, 2004 Toasteroven turns in his application (within 100 hours, of course). April 21st, 2004 Toasteroven gets an email saying he was accepted as a writer on the board. Currently-Toasteroven writes for the board; people reading his profile hate that it says "Toasteroven" a million times because it makes that word not sound real. Therefore, YOU TOO can search the archives and be a board writer, dude(ette). Sweeet. But you may wish to actually know something about Toasteroven. Okay. Toasteroven knows the scriptures pretty well. Maybe even better than Pa Grape. Toasteroven at byu.edu is his email address. He has nothing else he can brag about at all. Nobody likes him. He is fat, ugly, and stupid. Or IS he...
Today is July 26th, and I am writing a new profile because I feel like it, and no one cares about how I ended up joining the board. My email is toasteroven at byu.edu. I like it when women think I'm cool. =P Things people say I am (in no particular order): Psychiatric, charismatic, psychosomatic, pedantic, full of garlic, cheesy, wheezy, breezy, refreshing, taxing, annoying, awesome, beautiful, cute, rough, outspoken, bombastic, confusing, awkward, abrupt, blunt, repetitive, sensitive, sexy, wicked sexy, wicked but not very, spicy, bland, knowledgable, ignorant, constant,lazy, inspiring, perspiring, conspiring, weird, interesting, unpredictable, red-type personality, blue-type personality, yellow-type personality (but never white personality, which is funny since the woman I'm in love with has a lot of white), and repetitive. That's me in a nutshell. Go me, or something. Yeah. I must shout. HOW IS IT GOIN UP THERE BACK AT THE TOP OF THE LIST, AMBRO?! PRETTY GOOD?! SWEET. COOL HAVIN YOU BACK, SISTAH. I LOVE YA BABE. OKAY, I WILL SHADDAP NOW! Yeah, she is cool. I like to think I am, too. We will see what everyone says about that. I hope everyone agrees with me. At least Latro thinks I am cool. That must count for something, right?
I’m just your standard troublemaker. I jaywalk. I drink Dr. Pepper. I own face cards. And I am not a Republican. One of my biggest pet peeves is when arrogant newly-returned missionaries find out I study Spanish and try to quiz me on my vocabulary. I salsa dance almost every weekend and love to talk about Latin culture, music, baseball and relationships. So if you have any questions about that kinda stuff, I’m your girl. And if your questions are related to something else, I might still help you out anyway.
byutraviesa at gmail.com
a rebel, I say, a rebel. with a heart, of course. twice dot marked at theboard dot byu dot edu.
o Like an iceberg, 90% of Australia's farmland is actually below the surface of the earth.
o The Saturn V booster, used in the Apollo moon landings, was made entirely of papier mache.
o My answers are awesome.
Is the most senior Board writer, although she took a nice long break in the middle. Her 'nym comes from a nonsensical poem, chosen because she can choose it to mean whatever she'd like it to mean. In the past, she was gender-neutral. She isn't, now. Instead, she drives people batty by addressing her questions "Dear," instead of "Dear So-and-So."
Uffish is 23 years of age, prefers summer to winter, is passionate about a variety of unimportant things, sports red hair and freckles, has opinions to share on most topics, loves Threadless shirts, prides herself on having common sense but forgetting to use it, possesses a fondness for playing improv games badly, and really loves getting etiquette questions. There's a lot more, too, but the mystery makes her cooler than the facts would, doesn't it?
Those wishing to contact Uffish can do so at her gmail address. uffishwerf at gmail dot com. She welcomes the chance to clarify, chat, and to remember people actually read the things she writes.
I love people. I've moved around a lot and it's taught me that there's something amazing and unique about every person. I love learning and the idea of change. I like to think about life and come up with my own theories about how it works. They're usually at least partly wrong and I end up changing them later.
On a lighter note, I also like tacos, laser tag, cereal, and dancing by myself way more than is normal.
E-mail me at firstname.lastname@example.org.
Don't worry, world peace has been accomplished. I know, I'm from the future.
While Maverick and Iceman got most of the screen time, I was the real hero, but I wasn't as obsessed with one-liners, so I ended up being relegated to a minor role when the movie was made.
Two grumpy men. One crazy friendship!
Like Gromit's friend, I like to invent clever ways to do things. And I like cheese.
Also, I may be related to William Wallace, of Braveheart fame. Maybe.
I am a Psych major with a Women's Studies minor who intends to go to nursing school. I am also a Utah certified EMT and I love music, movies, video games, and TV. I live my life by the idea that "everything happens for a reason". I am completely obsessed with the US Women's Soccer team and the Portland Timbers. You can often find me frolicking at Peaks Ice Arena as I teach myself how to skate. I also have an unhealthy relationship with Diet Mt. Dew and Red Bull.
If you ever have feedback or just want to chat about life, email me at email@example.com
The best Scottish blues singer known to man.
I'm sarcastic. I'm pesimisstic. I'll put a damper on any party. I used to be warm and cuddly, but my situation has changed and now I'm unpleasant. That's life.
Sometimes I'm obnoxious, sometimes I'm interesting - what are whistlers for?
You may e-mail me at whistler at theboard dot byu dot edu. I'm highly contactable, just like Yellow. http://whistlerbyu.blogspot.com/
is my blog.
My man JambaJuice asked me why I did not have an About Us piece. I have been too busy with my games--lately a new MMORPG, Lineage II. I wonder how he managed to tear himself away long enough to notice. Not like he writes a lot. Weirdo. Man, now I do not even have time to finish the bio. I have to get back to my real family. My clan in Lineage.
Why Wilhelmina Wafflewitz? First of all, it's a very cool name, rolls right off the tongue. Second, I found it in a book of poems for children entitled "Something BIG Has Been Here" by Jack Prelutsky. I bought this book at the school book fair back when I was in third grade. Wilhelmina Wafflewitz is a poem about a girl who can't make up her mind. I can relate. Well, I have the ability to make up my mind, it's just difficult for me because I overanalyze my options and try to think too hard about decisions. I don't have very strong opinions, and I don't really specialize in any kind of questions, except for education (my major is Special Education). I like helping people learn, and that includes answering your sincere, silly, or random questions. Email me at wafflewitz at gmail dot com.
I was born on a hot day in July. Most children are born in hospitals these days. Some come into the world under the supervision of a midwife. Some come while their mothers relax in swirling baths. Some come in cars on the side of the road, halfway between home and the hospital. Although most respectable children are born in hospitals, it is not really a requirement. Respectable children are sometimes born in barnyards, though admittedly these ones have a harder go of it in becoming respectable.
The real requirement for all children, respectable or otherwise, is that they have parents. It's looked on as more than some social nicety. There is no entrance to acceptable society if one hasn't a proper set of parents.
It is my misfortune to have been born without them.
I came into the world in a sterile testing room, which is more respectable than a barnyard, but still can't remedy the horrible faux pas of having been born without parents. The R&D department was looking for something new. They tried a mix of grape juice infused with rosemary. They mixed an invigorating cranberry juice with extract of almond. They rubbed cocoa butter into strained avacado, then whisked it into apricot juice. But none of it was quite what they were looking for. In frustration, one of them stirred a package of generic brand Kool-aid up with a few packages of sugar. She raised the cup to her lips, getting it close enough that oil from her lip gloss smeared on the edge. If she had drank that Kool-aid, the story would have ended there. But one of the other researchers snatched it out of her hands and put it into the processor. The lip gloss must have reacted badly with something in the processor because when the process was finished, instead of a new drink, there I was, glistening with sunflower oil, standing in a cloud of reddish powder.
The woman who had mixed the Kool-aid argued a long time with the man who had put it through the processor about who would have to be responsible for this misuse of funds. In the end, the supervisor turned them both in. They were fired. The company was interested in producing beverages, not children. They had no place for me. I was put in state custody and sent to a foster family. But it was widely known that, unlike the other foster children, I had no real parents. When the other children spoke to me, which was rarely, they called me X-Factor because no one knew where I came from. It was better than admitting the truth-that I was born from a puddle of punch, without even a flash of lightning, and even the fruit drink factory had rejected me.
Hi, I’m Xanadu. After many years of watching the Board from afar, I heard the siren song calling me to write. After much medication and therapy, I realized that even though the voices were repressed childhood memories of being picked last in kickball games, they still had a point. So here I am. I like to do a lot of things. I like filling my head with media trivia: books, music, movies. I'm of the opinion that chocolate chips and peanut butter straight melted together could quite possibly be heaven on earth. A Mac is your friend. I just might have all the answers, but if I don’t, I can at least pull something halfway believable out of the air for the time being. I’m majoring in Political Science and minoring in world domination. Have any other questions? I don’t see how you could. But if you still do, drop me a line at firstname.lastname@example.org
The man... the journey... the only...
What really matters... other than the fact that I vote for Pedro?
I also tend to work comments about Macintosh computers into my responses. I don't know why I do this... other than the fact that I think people would enjoy using Macintoshes. It's a charity thing really. You should give it a try. You won't be disappointed.
Yes. I am a nerd.
Even in retirement, my inbox is always open: yayfulness(at)theboard.byu.edu. The editors were nice enough to let me stick around as a proofreader, so you still might see me pop up every once in a while.
Yellow is a happy and slightly silly writer with a love for dating, food, and computers. However, since he recently married another writer, his dating activities have been limited to her and her alone. He also has a penchant for using semicolons and italics; it's almost an addiction. (Seriously, how do people write without them?)
You can email Yellow at email@example.com.
I usually answer if there is anything to say about relationships, or when there is just no reason to answer with my other 'nym(s). You sluohd hvae no dtlcuiffty taricng me to my rael puesdomyn. Figured out the meaning of my name yet? Keep at it. I may give you a prize. (By the way I am not a psychologist in real life...)
I love music, languages, and long words. I often find books in my refrigerator, I can't tie shoelaces to save my life, and I abhor canned tuna. You can email me at yog(dot)in(dot)neverland(at)theboard(dot)byu(dot)edu. Only recently did I learn the difference between left and right, which has improved my driving skills greatly.
To some questions there is an answer. To others, agency rears its inevitable head and leaves it up to you, the Reader, to decide. Choose your own adventure, best beloved. Who's the captain of this ship, anyway?
What are you doing surfing the Internet? Go finish your homework.
Just in case you forgot to check the archives first.
Zantedeschia is the latin name for a calla lily. I love calla lilies, in addition to every other flower found in the genus Lilium
This playfully roguish and sarcastic marauder hails from Mesa, AZ where the sun turns your frown brown and upside dizown. A sporting, gregarious, devil-may-care character who is addicted to all things ESPN, sushi, flamenco guitar, peppermint, and bowling. §åû®μ$ hates stepping in water with socks on, a bad cereal to milk ratio, and price tag goop that won?t come off. If you love §åû®μ$, send Altoids.
Hi, I'm Kassidy. I'm one of the less omniscient members of the board. I'm not in charge of everything like the Queen of Everything. I'm not grammatically correct like Ambrosia. I'm not computer-savvy like the Webmaster. I'm not tech-y like The Keeper. I don't have abs of steel like The Mighty Quinn. I'm not a religion guru like Pa Grape. I'm not witty like Benvolio (although I do have a thing with him... He's hot). So how did I make it onto the 100 Hour Board with such incompetence? Well, I am honest, thought not quite to a fault. I do know lots of stuff, but I don't specialize. Oh, yeah. And I helped design the t-shirts.