Early eggnog
I don't know what it is about eggnog, but I could drink that stuff until I bloated into a round soggy bag jetting a constant exit stream out my nostrils.
I was in the grocery store last night, and every year I forget that they produce eggnog for a limited time just before Thanksgiving, and I saw it, and I went crazy and executed savage judo chops all over the elderly woman standing near the display and she went down flailing her cane at me but I dived at those 1 litre cartons like I was scoring the winning behind in the aussie rules match against the Western Bulldogs, and gathered them into my arms and crashed into the yoghurt section wallowing in noggy goodness and they were mine all mine, and I embarrassed my wife, I think.
But who cares what she thinks! And that old lady was asking for it, because everyone knows eggnog is a full-contact sport.
Ma in her kerchief and I in my cap
I was driving this morning at an ungodly hour: tired, sleepy and also not very awake. I know some people think sunrise is a glorious trumpeting wonderment of an event and their heart skips tra-la within their chests in eagerness at meeting the challenges of a brand new day, whereas I would trade it all for a dirty blanket by the garbage can and my underpants stuffed with newspapers if it meant I could have another hour of sleep.
So anyway I'm driving through the fog, the fog being mostly stuck to the inside side of the windshield and nothing will make it go away, nothing, not the air on high, not the sleeve of my fleece, not my burning glare of irritation which I would have thought would act like a radioactive blowdryer, nothing, and suddenly, I find myself muttering about how come they only sell seedless watermelon nowadays, dammit.
Um... what? It was clear that somebody else was using my brain while my attention was otherwise occupied in very important grumpywork. And not to its full potential, either. Some sort of... tinfoil hat might be in order. Or getting to bed earlier could be the right way to go. Or both. Just to cover all eventualities.
Site might not bite
Was kicking around a new look for my own website, peaeater.com, this weekend. I think I like it: new look maybe. It's kind of a break from the serious corporate looks I usually am working on. What would be perfect is a picture from East Sooke Park. I'll have to get out there with the camera before the weather breaks.
And I was NOT hunched in front of the screen all weekend. Just a couple of hours. Maybe three. Okay, four. Shutup, I did so get outside. For hours. On a walk. It was very healthy.
Laff-A-Lympics
Once upon a time I meant this blog to contain useful and important informational tips on how to use Inmagic in a .NET environment and/or with javascript. Oh, they show up here and there still, but I confess I find that a less interesting pursuit than finding a wave of hilarity and riding until I'm tossed breathless and laughing up onto the beach.
That's a metaphor. See, which I also like. I just think there's nothing better than metaphorizing something to death, often involving cartoon levels of violence. Not that I grew up with TV. No TV in my house growing up. If I had had TV [ooh, pluperfect tense! you don't see that every day] I would have gotten my fill of Acme brand explosions and cliff-diving accidents. Unfortunately I never got enough and now am forced to manufacture it myself.
Actually, there is one more ingredient in the mix that I owe to an education in the Classics [capital C]: the epic simile. An epic simile, also called a Homeric simile, is an extended comparison or cluster of similes or metaphors that are elaborated in great detail. Yes! YES! YEEEESSSS! Of course Homer, writing [sorry, redacting] the Iliad and Odyssey, always used them to serious heroic effect, while I think they're highly amusing and bastardize them for the fun of it. Not that I don't like Homer. I love Homer. Homer, I love you. Your incredibly blood-soaked clashes between childishly arrogant uber-heroes: I love them. It's just that in this age of heightened self-evaluation and cultural guilt, they can only be used for satire and parody.
Ah, well.
Fastbaby
Yes, it has a name. And a lot of horse. See rachelle there; I think she loves the new car more than me.
Peter's lack of fitness makes baby jesus cry
Started a new gym regimen this morning, based on consultation with a personal trainer. On the very first superset (leg extensions! squats! leg extensions! squats!), I thought I was going to die. Then I definitely did die, but obviously I went straight to hell because it only got worse.
All the exercises are done to fatigue. Fatigue achieved? Check. Muscle fibres collapsing and sliding off the bone? Check. At one point I was pushing about 20 lbs with both legs, and whimpering. Actually maybe the chinups were the most hilarious.
Today was the light day for legs. Ha ha!
Internet connection fluctuates
In a stunning exposé released just this morning, Peter's internet connection speed was found to have been fluctuating in recent weeks, say experts at Shaw Cable Victoria. This astounding discovery was made during a routine check on the high-speed modem, which had been stopped by authorities when it failed to deliver the morning email.
Shaw Cable's advisory alert system was immediately upgraded to "Paisley", and citizens are advised to stay indoors until Del the repair guy comes round tomorrow probably between 8 and 5.
A distraught and visibly shaken Mr. Tyrrell was unavailable for comment but has received extra coffee ration and was last seen shucking his wordly vestments in favour of sackcloth and ashes.
Utilitarian origami
To a Rational like me, nothing is better than a useful yet simple tool. A free disposable personal organizer? Sign me up.
PocketMod - "Nothing beats a folded up piece of paper." So true. And uh, probably could fill in as a pocket protector in a pinch.
Javascript tools
Debugging javascript is akin to charting the Northwest Passage through yeti-infested ice with a small nubbin of chalk to mark where you've been.
The Venkman debugger for Mozilla/Firefox is nice, but highly complicated, as debuggers tend to be.
I'm a simple man, with simple tastes, and probably a simple ton. I'm happy then, to say the least, to find this method at A List Apart: Javascript logging with fvlogger. Basically a trace log with different levels of info. Huzzah!
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