Archive for September, 2005

September 14th, 2005 3 comments

Top seven song from the past few days. Meme heartlessly ripped from reesey,s LJ.

Haujobb – Dream Aid (high frequency low frequency)
Code 64 – Resistance
DeVision – I’m not dreaming of you
Neon Electronics – Nice & Sexy
James Bong – Don’t say
Paul Oakenfold – Piledriver (Grayed out summer mix)
Razed in Black – Everything’s Gone Green

Share the love. post your top 7. Or else. no, really.

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Bad TV

September 14th, 2005 1 comment

For a couple reasons I found myself in front of the TV watching daytime programming today. My servers were busy doing some stuff I really didn’t feel like bothering, and I loathe surfing the internet on my windows PC. So I parked myself on the couch while lunch cooked, and continued to lounge for a couple hours (Bad Igg!). I soon remembered why it was that I avoided watching TV during the day.

For starters, the best thing I could find on the tube that didn’t involve hicks throwing chairs at hicks or the phrase “You ain’t my baby’s daddy!” was “Beastmaster” on Sci-Fi. Oh please, don’t give me that crap… I’m sure there are shows you would rather not admit you’ve watched. I know you watched Rikki Lake that one time when all you could find was infomercials and ads for college-by-mail.

Anyways… as if that wasn’t bad enough, there was a commercial (that they played an infinite number of times) for a delicious made-for-tv movie.. ‘Dracula 3000: Infinite Darkness’. The name alone sells the movie. It’s a vampire flick, which makes the content suspect in the first place. It’s set in outer space on a spaceship. The number of questions this raises boggles the mind. In the commercials, it even looked like he had the classic dracula outfit. The tagline on the commercial was “In the year 3000, the crew of the Demiter will find out… the future sucks”. IT HURTS! oh god, it burns.

Things like this are why I stopped watching TV in general. Although I have to admit I’m strangely drawn to watching it just to find out what the hell Dracula would be doing in space.

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September 11th, 2005 No comments

I was driving home frm Brian’s place a bit ago and drove past the guard rail I hit in the red SVX just about a year ago. First time I’ve seen it since I hit it. Can’t say it put me in the best mood to see it, since losing the SVX was the start of a nasty chain of unfortunate events.

Still, I have to say… I did a number on that rail. I play to win, dammit.

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September 9th, 2005 6 comments

What the…

Police Shoot Girl, 12, With Taser At School

Unable to control a powerful and dangerous 12-year-old girl, Cincinnati cops taser her

full story

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Don’t smoke

September 7th, 2005 8 comments

I was on a bus today. Ok, the story is getting crazy but bear with me. I was on the Logan express, heading from the airport back to Framingham. My work is located 5 mins walking distance from the logan express terminal, and nothing is more lovely than free parking when flying out of logan. Except perhaps not having to drive into Boston myself.

ANYWAYS… I was parking my lovely ass in delightful solitude when a figure approached me. I could tell from his body language that he was asking if it was alright if he sat next to me. It seemed at the same moment almost as if he was trying to vocalize something, but all that was emitted from his head sounded like… well, picture lining a person’s throat with a cylindrical chalkboard, flooding the cavity with oil, then rubbing a steel brush up and down it. The sounds escaping him, and they were loathe to do so… believe me, sounded nothing like a human communicating to another human. It sounded a lot closer to Darth Vader yelling through a dead cat. I expected these sounds to perhaps come from a dying person, or perhaps a dead person animated with unholy (though entertaining) magic, which made him sitting next to me a little worrisome.

I motioned (without making any sudden movements) that sitting next to me would be permitted. He then began a secondary series of communications. He was asking various questions, and although I was much more worried about the security and integrity of my delicious entrails I tried my best to understand him. He seemed to be querying the expected duration of the bus ride. A value I had recently become very interested in. I told him “about 45 minutes”, but he seemed confused. Apparently since I was not a machine speaking through a dead cat, he could not understand me. Moments later an automated recording came on telling us that we were now the property of the Logan Express for the next 45 minutes or so. He smiled with dimly opalescent teeth of shadow wrath, signaling his understanding of the kindly automated recording. He sat back, satisfied, and ceased his affront against the spoken word.

I chose to spend the trip people watching out the bus window rather than talking to my seat companion.

Please don’t smoke.

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