From Scott’s Place:
1. Go into your blog archives.
2. Find your 23rd post (or closest to it).
3. Find the fifth sentence (or closest to it).
4. Post the text of the sentence in your blog along with these instructions.
Smile, is what it says but my god this is dark. I instantly liked it.
Saddam Interrogation Logs, these are hilarious. Example:
Interrogation commenced: 0330 hours
Woke SH quite early to catch him off-guard and groggy. I asked, “What’s your first name?” and he said, “Saddam.” Again I asked, “What’s your first name?” and he said, “Saddam.” I kept asking, “What’s your first name?” and he kept saying, “Saddam.” Once I had a rhythm going, I quickly asked, “Where are the WMD?” and he said, “Saddam.”
Interrogation terminated: 0338 hours
Only the dreamer venoms all his days , Bearing more woe than all his sins deserve – Keats
Non Sequitur: a conclusion that does not follow from the premises.
Asperger’s Syndrome seems to me the Syndrome du jour right now.
SemaCode for reading URLs encoded in barcodes. Sounds neat.
There’s this new show from HBO called Deadwood. It’s really fucking good but the amount of colourful language is unfuckingreal. Someone’s decided to count the number of fucks per episode which turns out to be 53. 53 in 50 minutes ! Besides the language it stars Ian Mcshane aka “Lovejoy” and it’s created by the co-creator of NYPD Blue.
Check out this Virtual Keyboard which can be ordered from here. Cheap, small and on the market now. It’ll look cool if nothing more.
A good article on how to deal with the usual assholes that you get on webforums.
How happy is the blameless vestal’s lot!
The world forgetting, by the world forgot.
Eternal sunshine of the spotless mind!
My Deus Ex Machina has arrived. 🙂
I got 74.14
I rate high in Boldness and Abstraction
Captain Koons: Hello, little man. Boy, I sure heard a bunch about you. See, I was a good friend of your Daddy’s. We were in that Hanoi pit of hell over five years together. Hopefully, you’ll never have to experience this yourself, but when two men are in a situation like me and your Daddy were, for as long as we were, you take on certain responsibilities of the other. If it had been me who had not made it, Major Coolidge would be talkin’ right now to my son Jim. But the way it worked out is I’m talkin’ to you, Butch. I got somethin’ for you. [The Captain pulls a gold wrist watch from his pocket] This watch I got here was first purchased by your great-granddaddy.
It was bought during the First World War in a little general store in Knoxville, Tennessee. It was bought by private Doughboy Erine Coolidge the day he set sail for Paris. It was your great-granddaddy’s war watch, made by the first company to ever make wrist watches. You see, up until then, people just carried pocket watches. Your great-granddaddy wore that watch every day he was in the war. Then when he had done his duty, he went home to your great-grandmother, took the watch off his wrist and put it an ol’ coffee can. And in that can it stayed ’til your grandfather Dane Coolidge was called upon by his country to go overseas and fight the Germans once again.
This time they called it World War Two. Your great-granddaddy gave it to your granddad for good luck. Unfortunately, Dane’s luck wasn’t as good as his old man’s. Your granddad was a Marine and he was killed with all the other Marines at the battle of Wake Island. Your granddad was facing death and he knew it. None of the other boys had any illusions about ever leavin’ that island alive. So three days before the Japanese took the island, your 22-year old grandfather asked a gunner on an Air Force transport named Winocki, a man he had never met before in his life, to deliver to his infant son, who he had never seen in the flesh, his gold watch.
Three days later, your grandfather was dead. But Winocki kept his word. After the war was over, he paid a visit to your grandmother, delivering to your infant father, his Dad’s gold watch. This watch. This watch was on your Daddy’s wrist when he was shot down over Hanoi. He was captured and put in a Vietnamese prison camp. Now he knew if the gooks ever saw the watch it’d be confiscated. The way your Daddy looked at it, that watch was your birthright. And he’d be damned if any slopeheads were gonna put their greasy yella hands on his boy’s birthright. So he hid it in the one place he knew he could hid something. His ass. Five long years, he wore this watch up his ass. Then when he died of dysentery, he gave me the watch. I hid this uncomfortable hunk of metal up my ass for two years. Then, after seven years, I was sent home to my family. And now, little man, I give the watch to you.
“Hate is reality” says Nailbomb
Glimmering in a black warehouse, an Art Deco falling spiral chandelier had crowds of party-goers mesmerised as they sent text messages to the light and watched their SMSs trickle through the crystal strands like a luxurious ticker tape.