General

If those of you who live in or near London felt a disturbance in the Force this weekend, like millions of voices cried out in unison and then were suddenly silenced, don’t worry, it was just my roommate Robert. He’s come to visit your loverly country, to sample its history, to soak up the sights, and to get jiggy with some hot hardcore Internet Engineering Task Force action.

Apparently our employer mixed up Robert’s lodging vouchers with those of upper management, so he’s staying at the swank Thistle Marble Arch in downtown London. Note that his room has air-conditioning and is larger than a closet, so if you’re in the area, feel free to leave him some hate mail, or even some eggnog.

Yay! After four months of living in sub-arctic air-conditioning, I’ve found the manual for my apartment’s programmable thermostat.

Mariah Carey: “her face looks like a puppy that’s been stretched and beaten“.

I can state that I’ve never liked Mariah Carey’s porpoise-like wailings. I hate the entire genre of pop-soul-female-vocalist music. [Or maybe I just hate pop]. I’ve always had an implicit understanding that there was no real Mariah Carey, as there is no real Michael/Janet Jackson, or a real Britney Spears. All of these entities are as real as the characters from Dragonball Z, perhaps even less so. These pop stars are packaged commodities, designed by engineering firms and mass-produced in Wisconsin factories, prepped, lacquered, and breast-implanted for public consumption.

Hot, steamy Soviet Calculator lovin!

Last night, while playing Diablo 2 on Battlenet, I was in a public game, and this jerk with the username *bloodknife went hostile on me. [In D2, players are normally allied unless they choose to fight against each other. ] This guy was level 67, and I was level 38. He killed me almost instantaneously, then stood right outside town, not letting me get my corpse. [In D2, your corpse contains your hard-won items. If you leave it, you leave them.] Each time I ran out, he’d fry me, even after promising to let me pass. He profited from this: each time he killed someone, they’d drop some money, so he was extorting them to give him all their gold before he’d let them reclaim their bodies.

I need that like I need a nail in my head.

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My little brother turns twelve today. For his birthday, I got him this website. It’s a little vacant for now, because he’s moving into a new house, but eventually he’ll grow into it.

Happy birthday, Sam!

Barely beating Blort by a barrel of accumulated alliteration, Matt Rossi summons the ancient powers of Mum-Ra and wins this month’s clickthrough contest!

I’ve done some more work on the Linkage page, so if you’ve linked me on your link page and I don’t know about it, please let me know.

Seasoned travellers know that when dealing with airport authorities in Hawai’i like U.S. Customs, you do not play around. They have the documented power to stop and search anybody.