10/22/07
9/14/07
political philosophy
This summation of her political philosophy is the only one I've found that pretty much completely matches my own, and in a much more coherent format than I could ever hope to express:
megan mcardle at the atlantic
P.S. I'm trying to figure out how to set my default font to Arial, so I don't have to remember to change every time I post. The new times roman tard default is ugly and makes me want to punch Blogger in the eNuts.
P.P.S I just tried to add an animated .gif to illustrated and emphasize the above nutpunching, and it only uploaded a static image. I would appreciate any advice (or you can just smash a deserving someone in the ol' babysquirters, and I will be there in spirit).
megan mcardle at the atlantic
P.S. I'm trying to figure out how to set my default font to Arial, so I don't have to remember to change every time I post. The new times roman tard default is ugly and makes me want to punch Blogger in the eNuts.
P.P.S I just tried to add an animated .gif to illustrated and emphasize the above nutpunching, and it only uploaded a static image. I would appreciate any advice (or you can just smash a deserving someone in the ol' babysquirters, and I will be there in spirit).
9/10/07
monday song lyrics
Ok weekend. Cleaned garage, roommate cleaned kitchen + office. Got an old game, turned out boring. Video card dying, too cheap to buy new one just yet. Got new storage drive to replace failing one. Listening to I Just Don't Think I'll Ever Get Over You by Colin Hay and here's the lyrics:
I drink good coffee every morning
Comes from a place that's far away
And when I'm done I feel like talking
Without you here there is less to say
I don't want you thinking I'm unhappy
What is closer to the truth
That if I lived till I was 102
I just don't think I'll ever get over you
UPDATE: Upon reading the lyrics without the song in my head, I realize how dependent it is on the singer's voice and timing, and the guitar. By themselves, the words seem mundane and uninspired.
I drink good coffee every morning
Comes from a place that's far away
And when I'm done I feel like talking
Without you here there is less to say
I don't want you thinking I'm unhappy
What is closer to the truth
That if I lived till I was 102
I just don't think I'll ever get over you
UPDATE: Upon reading the lyrics without the song in my head, I realize how dependent it is on the singer's voice and timing, and the guitar. By themselves, the words seem mundane and uninspired.
9/7/07
misery loves company
I hated Comcast until they sold my service to Time Warner, but the crappy policies didn't seem to change. It's nice to know that they're jerks to everyone though:
http://www.msnbc.msn.com/id/20633771/
http://www.msnbc.msn.com/id/20633771/
9/6/07
video game writing
Don't know why, but this article grabbed my attention:
http://games.slashdot.org/games/07/09/05/1818242.shtml
http://games.slashdot.org/games/07/09/05/1818242.shtml
teefies
I got my first cavity filled this morning. I feel a sort of wistful regret, as my tooth decay cherry has now been popped, and my native denture is no longer magically impervious to entropy. Also, I'm drooling out the numb side of my mouth when I try to drink - not a hit with the ladies.
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