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Unbeknownst to many, there existed in the early days of the Internet a small cadre of computer-savvy castrati dwelling in southeastern Germany. BSD was their operating system of choice, and when they discovered an online bulletin board dedicated to the discussion of said operating system, they all attempted to join en masse. Unfortunately, they ran into trouble when it came time to select their user handles; although there were clearly posted rules explaining that usernames would be assigned according to a universal system, the German contingent demanded that they be allowed to choose their own, claiming that otherwise their individuality would be suppressed. The beleaguered system administrator, unable either to talk them out of or to comply with their request, was forced to simply reject their petitions for membership outright.

This would not in itself have been a particularly tragic story, were it not that the somewhat excitable would-be users in question interpreted this rejection (as, indeed, they tended to interpret any rejection) as a slur against their lost manhood; several of them, in fact, grew so incensed that they sought out the unfortunate sysadmin's home address, and before their fellows could stop them, they descended upon his home and shot the poor man dead.

When the shocking news of his demise reached the discussion boards he had administered, the users one and all were deeply saddened, but none of them were terribly surprised once the details of the story had come to light. After all, as one of them pointed out...

...when you nix Munich eunuchs' unique Unix nicks, Munich's Unix eunuchs nix you.

(crossposted to, illustrated by, and closing line derived in conjunction with [livejournal.com profile] saizai)
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I just entered a name into my cell phone that consisted entirely of letters that were each the last letter on the corresponding number key, meaning that I had to press every single key three times. It's always mildly annoying when you have to press that many buttons to enter a word, but this struck me as a special case of maximized annoyance.

I quickly realized, though, that even greater annoyance could be achieved by spelling an even longer name with the same property. Unfortunately, I can't come up off the top of my head with any particularly long ones using the letters C, F, I, L, O, S, V, and Z.

Can anyone else?


Jan. 25th, 2006 01:03 pm
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Two emails arrived in my spam folder with subject lines advertising Viagra and whatnot, but with the following text(s):

back different mischievous anybody make miserable? he corner did fascinate. wife make reply.
hard letters added bad.
carefully prison tying least? yours a wife companion. purpose respect again pride wife.
am explain force few nothing find.
thats young hard disappoint teach reference. arms force taught he again? my purpose evening wanted least somewhere.


pretty promised embarrass happened mentioned? promised how fascinate back.
out sandwich wrong.
corner fire black leader profession, not somewhere mischievous suddenly mischievous. thus why added few?
drew studied my added anybody steps. slow bad across thats bought benefit? she added the reading promised.
news anything off? reply drew shining embarrass reply.

I feel like there must be a story with an actual plot hidden in there somewhere. In fact I'm tempted to challenge somebody to write it.

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The executive director of the Cal Alumni Association, or so it would appear from this postcard I have lately received, is named...Randy Parent.

I really hope he doesn't actually have kids. I can just imagine the PTA meetings.
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The following thought drifted through my head during lunch today, and it wasn't until a moment later that I realized I'd composed an inadvertent haiku:

The chicken is good--
I should have grabbed more of that
and less of the rice.

(I didn't say it was a particularly interesting thought.)
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Suddenly I discover I'm not the only one who somehow thinks anything that happened in the '90s only took place a couple of years ago. I feel much better now.
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Okay, so most quizzes of the "completely random questions that don't really have anything to do with the supposed subject" variety are just annoying...but this particular result is actually good for a laugh:

fried chicken
You taste like chicken. Your succulent thighs,
legs, wings, and breasts melt in the mouth.
Your crunchy outer coating barely hides the
juiciness within.

How do you taste? brought to you by Quizilla


(blame [livejournal.com profile] mactavish for the link)
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So...I finally came all the way out to my dad today. I'd been expecting for a while now that this would happen in the near future--hadn't been expecting it today specifically, but I'm glad to have finally done it. And thank goodness, it was a lot less awkward than it could've been and he warmed to the idea faster than I'd expected. He always does manage to pleasantly surprise me.

To clarify: at least since adulthood, I've been keeping him fairly well apprised of the general outlines of my love life, so he's known for quite a while that I've generally been dating more than one person at a time. At first, though, he was under the impression that I was more or less "playing the field" and would settle down once I got "serious" with someone. I didn't quite have the nerve to disabuse him of that notion all at once, but I tried to think how to work up to it, and over the last year or so I've been managing to hint that I wasn't really ever planning for a monogamous future. Today, though, he finally asked me a direct question, which freed me to give him the direct answer I'd only recently found the courage to deliver.

Interestingly, he worked around to it through the subject of bisexuality--whether because he thought the two were related or just because it was a convenient lead-in I don't know (and I probably should find out at some point), but what he asked was "so, if you do find someone to settle down with [as that subject does seem to keep recurring between us, though for unrelated reasons], will you still be seeing women, or will you settle down with a woman and keep seeing men, or both, or neither, or what exactly?" So I said "well, both" and he said "so you're basically talking about an open marriage, then" and I said "yeah, pretty much" and he said "well, I've got no moral objection to that, but I'm not so sure it would actually work." Which was a little daunting, but not too far from what I'd expected, really. His morals have always been quite liberal, but he does have a history of being overprotective and I'd figured such qualms as he had would all be born of fear for my mental well-being. Hell, I think I'd been a little afraid that he'd imagine, as a therapist once did, that I was being inducted into some kind of cult.

So I tried as best I could to explain that yes, I've seen it work and it's working fine for me so far and yadda yadda, but I worried I wouldn't get very far with anecdotal evidence. My vague hand-waving assertions that there are tons of folks all over the place doing this and no, it's actually not just a "San Francisco thing" seemed to go over a little better, but interestingly, I think what finally convinced him was my manner of speaking, more than anything I actually said. I don't recall what else I told him exactly, but he finally said "You know, you sound happier and more sure of yourself than I've ever heard you. Not so long ago you sounded kind of directionless, and now you don't. I get the impression you've finally figured yourself out a bit." My immediate inclination was to debate that statement, as there's still so much about my life I haven't got figured out yet--but it's undeniable that I have in fact figured out a lot about how I want my love life to go, and I do feel good about that, even if the details are going to require some more hashing out. And based on that, it seems my dad was convinced that I really do know how I'm going to make this poly thing work. He even seemed positively glad about it by the time we were done talking, and that was definitely more than I'd expected. I am so grateful to have a parent who loves me so unselfishly. When you get right down to it, he really does just want me to be happy, and he really does believe I have the tools to accomplish that for myself. His confidence in me is one of my best sources of inspiration.

We hit some other fairly serious topics, too; it was one of the longer conversations we've had. I came away from it feeling better about a lot of things--most importantly, he reassured me that I've been calling him for advice less often because I genuinely need his advice less often, not because I'm trying to train myself not to need his presence in my life because I'm afraid at any moment I might lose it. Now that I think about it, I think those things might actually both be true, but the first one makes the second one much more bearable anyway. I think I'm starting to learn how to not be too attached to things and still not totally detach from them either--like, how to stop needing something while still wanting it, and enjoying wanting it, and enjoying the thing itself when I have it.

Oh, and he shared this piece of slight mind-bendiness: While his car was in the shop, they gave him a free rental car from Enterprise. The license plate frame said: "My other car is an Enterprise Rent-a-Car." Neither of us could decide if this was a paradox or not, but it was amusing as hell to think about.
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Me: *explanation of how I'm glad, for the sake of my self-respect, that I ended up working as a tutor instead of a financial analyst-in-training er something*
[livejournal.com profile] saizai: You mean you wouldn't enjoy making rich people richer? ...Oh, wait, I think you're supposed to call them "high-net-worth individuals."
Me: Shouldn't that be "people of worth"?
Sai: No, 'cause that might give the impression that they were black. And we can't have that.

Gah. The irony works on so many levels. Now I remember why I missed having him around.
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On the way to the hospital cafeteria for lunch today, I was treated to the sight of a gray-haired fellow in a white lab coat and bicycle helmet locking up his bike. Somehow the juxtaposition of those two accessories was funnier than it had any right to be--as was the image of a doctor on wheels.
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This morning Ki was lying near the edge of my bed purring as I brushed my hair, and when he stretched out and started to roll over I could see that his back end was about to roll right off the bed. For a moment I considered putting a hand out to stop him--but only for a moment. The next second, he was digging his front claws into the blankets in a desperate bid to keep his front end from following his back; unfortunately I didn't see if he was successful or not, because I was too busy falling down giggling.

Sometimes I worry that the ASPCA will come knocking on my door any day now. But then I remember that Ki's other human is even crueler to him than I am.
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There are these SPCA ads I've been seeing in AC Transit buses for quite a while that say, among other things, "Ask about our pit bull service." Can anyone out there tell me what the heck "pit bull service" even is?
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One of Ki's favorite toys is currently dangling from his cat tree; a few minutes ago, he stretched down from his perch atop the tree, couldn't quite reach it, and doggedly oozed his front end so far down in pursuit of it that he overbalanced and was suddenly forced to "jump" the rest of the way down in a less than graceful manner. Silly kitty. When I laughed at him, he came running over and looked up at me with what I thought was reproach in his gaze, but a few moments later I concluded that he'd merely taken my laughter as a summons to leap up onto my chair and interfere with my typing--although I could've sworn he didn't think he needed an invitation to do that. Perhaps "reminder" is a more accurate word. ("Hey, that's right, I haven't bothered you yet today!")
I've just realized I have a -grl, a -grrl, and a -grrrl on my friends list. Also a -girl and a girl-, but only a couple of boys of any spelling--not that there are as many recognizable spellings, of course. I'd be highly amused, after this, to see a -grrrrl and maybe a -grrrrrl show up in my social circles.

Not that I'm asking for it or anything.
The silly spam continues. Some of the new ones:

Recessed R. Organizing
Hookers A. Fairness
Rap P. Marketer
Waste Q. Mohair
Bulkhead L. Dispatcher
Mulling C. Waterbeds
Lubricant K. Saltpeter
Athenians T. Bounden
Housemaids I. Misled

I really like that last one.
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...either that, or I've developed something resembling self-confidence. *gasp*

So I'm at a delightful party chatting up this very cute guy, and our conversation expands for a few minutes to include a mutual acquaintance sitting nearby; this person (who shall remain nameless *sticks out tongue*) teases me, as folks sometimes do, about my relative youth and then says to my chat-up target "oh, I'm sorry, am I screwing up your attempt to seduce her?"

My immediate reply: "No, you're screwing up my attempt to seduce him!"

My next thought: Fuck, did I just say that out loud?

(Fortunately, it apparently takes considerably more than that for me to botch a Seduction roll. My friends list (among other things) has incremented once again. Hee-hee.)

(Y'know, I suspect the fact that I'm posting this and not being all cryptic about it (except for leaving out the names) is one more sign of Growth on my part. If that's what to call it.)
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On my way to today's job interview, I found a BB on the sidewalk and picked it up for luck; on the way back from the interview, I came upon first a washer and later a nail lying underfoot. No sooner had I thought to myself that this seemed to be a day for finding odd bits of metal, than I spotted a paper clip and a pop-top ring in the next ten feet. Except for the pop-top ring, these are not things that I see on sidewalks all that often.

The next block yielded another pop-top ring and another paper clip; at this point I decided to stop picking them up, but almost went back on this decision when I came to a broken hair clip and still later a screw. I had fun redistributing the items I had collected, though: the washer is now balanced on top of a railing, the pop-top ring paper-clipped to a chain link fence, and the nail sticking out of the pocket of a pair of jeans being worn by a rather creepy torso-less mannequin outside a small store. The BB is still in my pocket, though; I never did find what seemed like a good place for it, though now that I think about it, it might've rested nicely on top of the washer.

([livejournal.com profile] kaidevis, you're a bad influence. Or a good influence. Or something.)

Tardy haiku

Jul. 5th, 2005 11:30 pm
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Dammit, I forgot
to mention that today was
World Blog Haiku Day!

I was going to post
about this earlier, but
I just plain forgot

to do it during
the few hours I was home
and here at my desk.

Now it is almost
too late for it to matter.
But, in case you care,

mark your calendars.
Next year, on July the fifth,
you too can be cool

and post haiku, like
me (but hopefully in a
more timely fashion.)
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I just love it when spammers generate fake names using dictionaries instead of phone books. This mailing list I'm on has been getting a string of nearly identical junk emails from people like:

Bemoaned K. Kickoffs
Grandstand V. Straplesses
Hairbrushes A. Fiendish
Proton Q. Flicks
Telephoto V. Informed
Saskatoon G. Naysayer
Temporizing P. Apathetic
Conformists J. Cyclamen
Cenotaph E. Effeminacy
Clue G. Mysteried
Progresses K. Minuend
Stalked P. Disneyland

Actually, Stalked P. Disneyland and Telephoto V. Informed sound almost threatening. I wonder if I could sic the law on them for intimidation, just to screw with them.
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Job posting just encountered on craigslist: "Branding Topic -- Looking for Submission"

*raises eyebrow*

Meanwhile, is it just me or does this ad sound kinda suspicious?
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Dang it. When I caught sight of the line "I salute you in the name of the most High!" at the top of the latest email in my spam folder, I thought I was going to be invited to join a fringe religion. But alas, it was just a 419 scam.
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...because gods know it's easier than coming up with anything original to say.

An example: My dad and I were just discussing movies over email, but he interjected this into his latest reply:

My computer-guarder thingy, Norton, says, "Remember to check for updates frequently."

1) I remember frequently that I should check for updates, but I never do check for updates.

2) I remember now and then that I should frequently check for updates, but I check rarely or never.

Wouldn't it be better to check for updates frequently and forget about remembering to? And wouldn't it be better for Norton to say, "Check for updates frequently"? That way they'd be staying out of my mind and I'd be getting proper instructions.

This is just the kind of thing that I would post here more often, if only the impulse didn't flee before I had the chance to and if only I didn't anticipate loud sighs and head-patting in response. Maybe I need to stop caring about that.


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