January 2005 Archives
While I wait for the SF gang to show up, I'm going to do a clean install of MT 3.15 and then use TypeMover to import Vertical Hold into a fresh install. I really want dynamic publishing to work. My rebuilds are quite painful and I'm quite sure that something in the upgrades I've done along the way is screwing me up. Also, it helps me avoid cleaning the house.
Dear Pat's Cold,
F*ck off and bloody f*ckin' die!
Love,
Pat
Upgrade from MT 2.661 to 3.14. Wish me luck...I'll probably need it.
Update: Maybe not...or maybe so.
Lesson: Don't screw with MT while on cold meds...
14 ssh sessions to 12 different hosts. I'm a Mac user damnit! This isn't supposed to be how it is. My screen is a sea of yellow on black and I'm very disappointed about it.
You run out of terminal-specific keyboard shortcuts at #8...
“Ambien. It’s good enough for the State Department. It’s good enough for you!” It’s a good thing we were in New York and staying near Wall St. We had our first marketing slogan. We needed a trademark lawyer and we needed one fast. The New York City black market legal trade is almost as legendary as their rat population. Some say it’s hard to tell them apart. Of course, we weren’t using Ambien much after the knife incident. But then, who could blame us? But screw it, how often do people actually use the product they endorse? We were at Yankee Stadium and I didn’t see one stick of Right Guard in Giambi’s locker. Sure, we saw lots of other stuff…but no Right Guard. Like Mr. Giambi, we were only interested in the money.
Jay and I still had our kidneys and Ryan was none the wiser. Outwit. Outlast. Outplay? No problem. Ryan was so busy walking around Manhattan at Mach 5, with that evil grin on his face, he would be easy to beat. Or at least we could avoid his blade. He was in heaven. He was so in love with that city he would have married it on the spot if he could have come up with the cash for a ring. He knew I wasn’t packing much cash. I only came with beads and trinkets to trade with the locals. Hell, it worked out pretty well for the Dutch. They ended up owning Manhattan after all.
The vision of Ryan walking around was starting to bother Jay and I though. We couldn’t put our finger on exactly what the problem was though. Every subway stop, Ryan was at the door ready to burst through the poor slobs trying to get on the train. At every station, he was at the train door before it even came to a stop, ready to rush through the walking-dead Manhattanites that were waiting at the door, staring off into space as if they all had frontal lobotomies. Hell, for all Jay and I knew we were next on the operating table. It could be a two for one deal, first the lobotomy and then they could grab the kidneys.
The more we thought about it, the more we were glad we stopped the Ambien. Still, we were no match for Ryan and his Starbuck’s fueled walks. Half the time he didn’t even know where he was going, but he was getting there fast. That’s all that mattered to him. Making the next subway train. There was no sense in taking the subway if you couldn’t catch an express train! There was no worse feeling than running down the stairs only to be staring at the ass-end of a subway car as it sped away into the tunnel. At that point, it’s just you and the rest of the rats, and they look hungry. Ah, but we had business to attend to.
They are fiction. While it is certainly true that I was in New York City, I could never hate Ryan. He got me a fafshirt for Fafmas!
Bill Gates is a pretty smart guy. So when he says stupid shit, I suspect that he knows it and is lying through his teeth.
There are some new modern-day sort of communists who want to get rid of the incentive for musicians and moviemakers and software makers under various guises. They don't think that those incentives should exist.
Who in the hell is he talking about? It can't be the FSF because the GPL is founded on copyright. It can't be EFF, they've always said that copyright was to create an incentive, for limited times of course. It can't be Creative Commons. Is he just talking about the "No Software Patents" people (Yes, I understand that this includes EFF and FSF, but they are very specific areas and in no way does that position call for an end to all patents or protection of ideas)? Are there protesters outside his office with big "NO COPYRIGHT EVER!" signs?
Just what the world needs...more scare tactics. But then what else would one expect from a founder of Microsoft?
They say New York City did a lot to get rid of the homeless. From the reception we got at the Delta terminal at LaGuardia, it was all massive fraud perpetrated on the public. I was panhandled 26 times on the way to the baggage claim alone and I will not even go into the horrible details of what will happen to you if you happen to stray into a bathroom. It’s much too horrible to speak of, even for a babbling, insane person like myself.
Everyone, outside of New York anyway, used to think that they just shipped their homeless to New Jersey. Well, from what I saw at the airport, they kept the dust in-house, but under the rug. Although I have to admit that LaGuardia makes a lousy rug to hide dust under. No matter though, for we were finally in New York. I don’t remember much of the flight, other than Jay mumbling something about his headphones not being as tasty as the last time he flew. I wisely ignored him and made sure I took two doses of Ambien. If it’s good enough for the State Department, by God it was good enough for me. But now I’m going backwards.
After my adventure, of which we will not speak, in the men’s room and getting my luggage (which was oh so carefully handled by the crack team of 10ft tall security robots with laser cannons for eyes – who are crudely referred to as “Delta Force.” Of course, we were flying Delta.) we decided to wait for Ryan, so we could split the cab ride three ways. I was against this plan, for no other reason than we have already established that I hated Ryan at this point. But Jay was insistent that we wait. “Fine, we’ll wait…but he’ll get your kidneys first, you savage!” There was no way I was going to get sliced and dumped first, but I knew I was no match for Jay either. This was clearly another sign of my deepening insanity – going on a trip with, not one, but two people who could easily dismember me.
Right as the Ambien fog was starting to lift, Ryan showed up and we embarked on what I can honestly say was the most boring cab ride I have ever taken. Was my feeble mind still clouded by the double dose of Ambien or was New York really just a grey blur with occasional streak of graffiti? Either way, we would all soon need alcohol.
A Thousand Words:
8:22 PM, Saturday, December 25, 2004
I already hate Ryan. What was I thinking? New York City -- between Christmas and New Years. I must be insane.
Of course I'm insane. I got to the airport two hours early -- for a 10PM flight.
The savages that run this airport think it's a good idea to charge for internet access. Why not? They charge $2 for a bottle of water. Sure you could drink from the fountain, except for the fact that they poison it. That's just speculation of course. I drank from the fountain to wash the Advil down. If I'm dead before I get to Atlanta, you know it's the water. Make sure the bastards fry for what they did. I was struck down before my prime. Maybe it's already after my prime and I just don't know it yet.
I'm still running on battery power. There are a few open outlets around. I should power-up before the bean counters decided to put a coin-op cover over them.
Jay just called from the parking lot. I will have someone to share my hatred of Ryan with soon. Once we get to New York, we will make Ryan pay and pay dearly. He should be ashamed of himself for taking advantage of a person he knows is insane. They'll lock him up and throw away the key. Unless he finds this and then it will be lights out for me. No way I could fend off a frat boy in my weakened mental state.
It's all okay though, my shoes got sent through the X-Ray machine and there were no tumors. They've got a long, full life ahead of them. Unless I get killed for them in New York. They kill for less in New York, so don't be shocked when it happens.
But back to being past my prime. That's a depressing thought. All the best days of my life are already behind me.
The fog is starting to roll in. If my flight is cancelled, I'm screwed. Kat is already well on her way to Chico. But then the trip wouldn't be cancelled, just delayed. Ryan would be stuck with an expensive hotel room and would probably try to extract payment from us. Hell, he'd sell our kidneys if he had to. But all we have now is the ramblings of a mad man and we all know you can't trust an insane person.
Well, while I still have enough of my wits about me to power down...
I'm back from my trip to NYC. It was a "hoot," to say the least. To my chagrin work starts tomorrow at 8am on the nose. I have only a few precious hours to recoup from a travel plan that could only have been more thoroughly painful if a hot poker had been jammed in my eye. Alas, as usual, I have no one to blame but myself. C'est la vie...
