From a few weeks ago around launch time, Facebook ads as aimed at spaceship engineers:
( Read more... )
Tonight, hilarious API specs:
( Read more... )
( Read more... )
Tonight, hilarious API specs:
( Read more... )
(repost from ![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-community.gif)
techsupport: http://techsupport.livejournal.com/2063144.html)
I worked for about a year and a half as tech support at a little domains'n'more shop in the Phoenix area, before I up and moved to California. After moving, I went back through all my journal entries and came up with a list of rules.
Things Azz (or Azz's co-workers) Shouldn't Do in the Workplace:
techsupport: http://techsupport.livejournal.com/2063144.html) I worked for about a year and a half as tech support at a little domains'n'more shop in the Phoenix area, before I up and moved to California. After moving, I went back through all my journal entries and came up with a list of rules.
Things Azz (or Azz's co-workers) Shouldn't Do in the Workplace:
- Must not knock over computers in the training room, even if they are just where a stray foot can push them over.
- "A great big truck" should never be included in any description of how the internet works.
- When specifically excluding "a great big truck" from discussions of how the internet works, should wait until instructor's mouth is no longer full of coffee.
- Must sign out for breaks with something at least resembling her legal name.
- Must not claim the last name of "Lunatic" when calling Tier 2, because they will take me seriously and get mad when they don't find me on the list.
- May not throw beachballs at the heads of teammates anymore.
- May not throw beachballs over the heads of teammates anymore.
- May no longer violate the airspace of the nearby Quality Assurance cubes with:
- beachballs
- frisbees
- frisbees-missing-their-centers
- hackey-sacks
- Nerf footballs
- Nerf baseballs
- ...anything, really
The Chocolate Penis Saga
Jun. 17th, 2009 09:33 amThis starts out, somewhat predictably, with a bet. My cousin sent me an instant message one fine afternoon.
I was hoping. Alas:
Since it is useless to fight against the inevitable, I considered my token protest to have been made, and climbed aboard the WTF train. ( A proper Saga ensued, with pictures. )
(Share with discretion. I don't really need my dad in this if he doesn't read DW.)
[update 6/23: a double-ended one.
( Image. )
[12:53] Azz's Cousin: So... I lost a bet.
[12:53] Azz: oh?
[12:53] Azz's Cousin: do you know anything about casting edible molds?
[12:54] Azz: ... my mind just went a very bad place from that. Please tell me that the end result of the loss of this bet is not a chocolate penis.
I was hoping. Alas:
[12:55] Azz's Cousin: How did you guess?
[12:55] Azz: but for edible molds silicone is a common substance
[12:55] Azz: ... oh dear
[12:55] Azz: well, my mind automatically went to the worst place I could reasonably think of.
Since it is useless to fight against the inevitable, I considered my token protest to have been made, and climbed aboard the WTF train. ( A proper Saga ensued, with pictures. )
(Share with discretion. I don't really need my dad in this if he doesn't read DW.)
[update 6/23: a double-ended one.
( Image. )
Er. Beware of snakes?
Aug. 23rd, 2008 02:14 pmVia ![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
hakeber
Note: not for those who fear snakes. Really. Even though this snake is really friendly. *Really* friendly. Beverages should not be brought into the snake-cooler.
Perfect antidote to A Howling In The Factory Yard, which is the only fic that I have seensynecdochic issue warnings for.
hakeberbeckyzoole (woops, wrong person right general name!), who had the excellent timing to have this on my friends page just as I was finishing up reading a very, very intense SG-1 fic (with snakes in). Note: not for those who fear snakes. Really. Even though this snake is really friendly. *Really* friendly. Beverages should not be brought into the snake-cooler.
Perfect antidote to A Howling In The Factory Yard, which is the only fic that I have seen
synecdochic issue warnings for.Mr. Out's Driving, continuing saga of
May. 23rd, 2008 11:21 amSo at breakfast today, Mr. Out mentioned that someone whose car he drives got a ticket from a traffic camera. He was grousing about how the owner of the car had, instead of stating that it wasn't them and sending in ID to prove it and not saying who it was, gave away his identity, so now Mr. Out is going to get the ticket.
I pointed out that this is probably karma.
"WHAT!?!" Mr. Out said, outraged. "How--! Why--! I don't--!"
"From what you've said about your driving," I said.
"I never--! What!!"
"You know, the cellphone thing", I smirked, gesturing.
"And you were all 'I'm on the PHONE!' ", our supervisor chimed in, shaking an imaginary cellphone at other drivers.
"How did you hear about that!!" Mr. Out demanded.
"You told us," about four of us chorus. "Over breakfast the other week."
"...Oh."
At this point, Mr. Out attempted to justify his driving. This was not particularly successful. He kept using worse and worse examples, including the number of times he has been pulled over on suspicion of drunk driving, which has always been cellphone-related, sleep-related, and/or steering-with-his-knees related. After about the third iteration, I started to mime tossing dirt out of a pit with a shovel. One of the new ladyfolk, the one who was actually something like awake, started dying laughing even before that.
My decision to not drive with Mr. Out stands.
I pointed out that this is probably karma.
"WHAT!?!" Mr. Out said, outraged. "How--! Why--! I don't--!"
"From what you've said about your driving," I said.
"I never--! What!!"
"You know, the cellphone thing", I smirked, gesturing.
"And you were all 'I'm on the PHONE!' ", our supervisor chimed in, shaking an imaginary cellphone at other drivers.
"How did you hear about that!!" Mr. Out demanded.
"You told us," about four of us chorus. "Over breakfast the other week."
"...Oh."
At this point, Mr. Out attempted to justify his driving. This was not particularly successful. He kept using worse and worse examples, including the number of times he has been pulled over on suspicion of drunk driving, which has always been cellphone-related, sleep-related, and/or steering-with-his-knees related. After about the third iteration, I started to mime tossing dirt out of a pit with a shovel. One of the new ladyfolk, the one who was actually something like awake, started dying laughing even before that.
My decision to not drive with Mr. Out stands.
Some selected moments:
Mar. 28th, 2008 07:40 am4:45 AM 3/28/2008
(Context: Can't get the battleaxe through airport security.)
"THIS IS BECAUSE I'M A 7TH LEVEL DWARF, ISN'T IT! (I'm playing the race and class card.)"
4:51 AM 3/28/2008
(Context: going out drinking in the morning and getting a DWI at 7am.)
" 'Is that an open container?' 'No, that was from yesterday.' "
(Context: Can't get the battleaxe through airport security.)
"THIS IS BECAUSE I'M A 7TH LEVEL DWARF, ISN'T IT! (I'm playing the race and class card.)"
4:51 AM 3/28/2008
(Context: going out drinking in the morning and getting a DWI at 7am.)
" 'Is that an open container?' 'No, that was from yesterday.' "
(no subject)
Mar. 4th, 2008 02:08 am"So You Hacked Our Site!" -- a tale of utter technical incompetence. Put down beverages. (Non-technical people might even get a giggle out of this.)
I am having far too much fun with this website:
http://limerickdb.com/?383 -- not safe for Abe.
http://limerickdb.com/?379 -- eBay.
http://limerickdb.com/?362 -- Orson Scott Card.
http://limerickdb.com/?389 -- relative silliness.
LOLcat Rede. (In case you haven't seen it yet...) ... now it needs illustration.
I Can Has Cheezburger is hiring.
I am having far too much fun with this website:
http://limerickdb.com/?383 -- not safe for Abe.
http://limerickdb.com/?379 -- eBay.
http://limerickdb.com/?362 -- Orson Scott Card.
http://limerickdb.com/?389 -- relative silliness.
LOLcat Rede. (In case you haven't seen it yet...) ... now it needs illustration.
I Can Has Cheezburger is hiring.
Little random.
Mar. 3rd, 2008 09:05 amMy brain is trying to filk "One Week", by the Barenaked Ladies, into a saga of DNS woes involving a too-long TTL. (It'll still be two days before I see your server.)
My new 9-5 job is sleeping.
No Wanking in the Office (video itself visually possibly sfw; audio not. Rest of site not. At all.)
hcolleen's lungs are courting bronchitis. Yay. (Hello, urgent care.)
Hello, bedtime.
My new 9-5 job is sleeping.
No Wanking in the Office (video itself visually possibly sfw; audio not. Rest of site not. At all.)
hcolleen's lungs are courting bronchitis. Yay. (Hello, urgent care.) Hello, bedtime.
I have personally assisted in the discombobulation of an entire team meeting, and I'm so very proud of myself.
Our supervisor called us off the phones early for the team meeting, and sat us down in the conference room. I'd been plotting just such a thing for at least a week, and had cunningly brought in an egg.
This was no ordinary egg. No. This is a cunning toy, fashioned by those who know exactly how the mind of a small boy works, and are hell-bent on exploiting that knowledge for personal profit.
The toy consists of:
1) A transparent outer sac, shaped roughly like the shell of an egg, and consisting of a few millimeters' worth of that sticky, elastic gel that diverse other toys are made from. It's generally fashioned into long, violently-colored, hand-shaped slapping devices, or sticky things that resemble yo-yos, or the tongues of frogs. It picks up lint with ease, but comes mostly clean after being gently washed. (Don't try to dry it.)
2) Transparent liquid inside the sac, to all appearances either water or albumin.
3) A firm, but not hard, sphere, afloat (or a-sink) in the liquid inside, colored a violent yellow.
When cradled, it retains the shape of an egg. When thrown, it deforms from the force of the hurling, and lies in a splatter-shape ("yolk" merrily protruding) on its target for some short time before regaining its original integrity.
It's perfect.
I palmed it on my way to the team meeting. Not wishing to appear the fool, I did a "dry run" of my plot before our supervisor came in: I hurled the "egg" at the whiteboard he would be standing in front of. As advertised, SPLAT! it made a perfect impact on the board. I snickered and plotted. I had scored a seat next to the Pagan Dude. The remainder of the team filed in, including our supervisor. I bided my time. The meeting started out with our supervisor perched on the sideboard. I waited until he went up front to begin the main business before I struck.
My timing was perfect. My aim was not: instead of splatting nicely on the whiteboard, my shot went high, and it hit the wall above the whiteboard, catching sideways and not making the perfect broken-egg splatter, instead tumbling down in a graceless lump. Our stunned supervisor nevertheless grabbed the thing, examined it, and tossed it back: not at any one of us, but at the window by the door. It worked right for him, at least. Smoking Lingerie Chick snagged it before it would have dropped into the wastepaper basket and played with it. The meeting continued. Bored at last, she passed it along to Pagan Dude.
I am not so vain of my own perceptive powers as to say that I saw this one coming. Pagan Dude delighted in the egg. He poked it, prodded, it, squished it, squeezed it, squashed it, poked it some more. I did, however, begin to have slight misgivings. At length, he poked the "yolk" into a little pouch of the sac, and SQUEEEEZED...!
As with any other elastic material put under unbearable strain, the toy exploded, splurting the water inside all over Pagan Dude, his sweatshirt, the conference table, and my sleeve.
The meeting ground to a dead halt as everyone, supervisor included, stared, then burst out into uncontrollable laughter. Pagan Dude's eyes were as round and wide as fried eggs. He, clearly, hadn't seen this one coming. It took a full five minutes before order, and dry, had been restored.
After the meeting let out, Pagan Dude continued playing with the shell of the toy. It was still sticky and somehow more grotesque, with just a small hole to show for its injury. We proceeded out of the conference room into the call center proper, with its high ceiling. Pagan Dude tossed the egg high into the air ... only to not catch it as it didn't fall down. It had smacked into the tile of the suspended ceiling and stuck fast there.
The Egg of Damocles now lurks over one of the cubes. We have no idea when it's coming down.
[Edit 4/22/2008: video of the second instance of the toy.]
Our supervisor called us off the phones early for the team meeting, and sat us down in the conference room. I'd been plotting just such a thing for at least a week, and had cunningly brought in an egg.
This was no ordinary egg. No. This is a cunning toy, fashioned by those who know exactly how the mind of a small boy works, and are hell-bent on exploiting that knowledge for personal profit.
The toy consists of:
1) A transparent outer sac, shaped roughly like the shell of an egg, and consisting of a few millimeters' worth of that sticky, elastic gel that diverse other toys are made from. It's generally fashioned into long, violently-colored, hand-shaped slapping devices, or sticky things that resemble yo-yos, or the tongues of frogs. It picks up lint with ease, but comes mostly clean after being gently washed. (Don't try to dry it.)
2) Transparent liquid inside the sac, to all appearances either water or albumin.
3) A firm, but not hard, sphere, afloat (or a-sink) in the liquid inside, colored a violent yellow.
When cradled, it retains the shape of an egg. When thrown, it deforms from the force of the hurling, and lies in a splatter-shape ("yolk" merrily protruding) on its target for some short time before regaining its original integrity.
It's perfect.
I palmed it on my way to the team meeting. Not wishing to appear the fool, I did a "dry run" of my plot before our supervisor came in: I hurled the "egg" at the whiteboard he would be standing in front of. As advertised, SPLAT! it made a perfect impact on the board. I snickered and plotted. I had scored a seat next to the Pagan Dude. The remainder of the team filed in, including our supervisor. I bided my time. The meeting started out with our supervisor perched on the sideboard. I waited until he went up front to begin the main business before I struck.
My timing was perfect. My aim was not: instead of splatting nicely on the whiteboard, my shot went high, and it hit the wall above the whiteboard, catching sideways and not making the perfect broken-egg splatter, instead tumbling down in a graceless lump. Our stunned supervisor nevertheless grabbed the thing, examined it, and tossed it back: not at any one of us, but at the window by the door. It worked right for him, at least. Smoking Lingerie Chick snagged it before it would have dropped into the wastepaper basket and played with it. The meeting continued. Bored at last, she passed it along to Pagan Dude.
I am not so vain of my own perceptive powers as to say that I saw this one coming. Pagan Dude delighted in the egg. He poked it, prodded, it, squished it, squeezed it, squashed it, poked it some more. I did, however, begin to have slight misgivings. At length, he poked the "yolk" into a little pouch of the sac, and SQUEEEEZED...!
As with any other elastic material put under unbearable strain, the toy exploded, splurting the water inside all over Pagan Dude, his sweatshirt, the conference table, and my sleeve.
The meeting ground to a dead halt as everyone, supervisor included, stared, then burst out into uncontrollable laughter. Pagan Dude's eyes were as round and wide as fried eggs. He, clearly, hadn't seen this one coming. It took a full five minutes before order, and dry, had been restored.
After the meeting let out, Pagan Dude continued playing with the shell of the toy. It was still sticky and somehow more grotesque, with just a small hole to show for its injury. We proceeded out of the conference room into the call center proper, with its high ceiling. Pagan Dude tossed the egg high into the air ... only to not catch it as it didn't fall down. It had smacked into the tile of the suspended ceiling and stuck fast there.
The Egg of Damocles now lurks over one of the cubes. We have no idea when it's coming down.
[Edit 4/22/2008: video of the second instance of the toy.]
Bunny's Christmas Story
Can Has Sweet Potato?
Why Being Into Cats is Essentially The Same as Being Into Psychotic Tweakers
Dogs in Elk
Squirrels in Beet Pulp
Lost: big box of crickets on the subway
Neighborhood Hazard (or: Why the Cops Won't Patrol Brice Street)
The Brown Plastic Packaging Tape Monster Story
One hundred surreal things that have happened to cadhla
Cat pee on Bang.
Things Mr. Welch May Not Do During an RPG
The parking lot seems to be on fire.
I have no idea where I left my three-hole-punch. I also need to keep drawing assorted little cartoons, because I win at that, in general. But I have a plastic file crate full of empty binders, and this is a Good Thing. I've been filing away assorted things that need archiving, and consolidating things. One of these days, all my written diaries will be backed up in electronic form.
Things I have gotten away with at work now include:
I make playlists in my head. I know I had one called "Bad Love", but it's disappeared somewhere.
"Borderline", Madonna.
"Two Out of Three Ain't Bad"
"I Will Survive" (and maybe "Believe", that might be better)
Perhaps "Walls" and/or "The Distance", and/or "Perhaps, Perhaps, Perhaps".
"Everybody Knows", maybe "Hallelujah", but it's not that kind of playlist, I don't think.
UV-reactive cats!
Can Has Sweet Potato?
Why Being Into Cats is Essentially The Same as Being Into Psychotic Tweakers
Dogs in Elk
Squirrels in Beet Pulp
Lost: big box of crickets on the subway
Neighborhood Hazard (or: Why the Cops Won't Patrol Brice Street)
The Brown Plastic Packaging Tape Monster Story
One hundred surreal things that have happened to cadhla
Cat pee on Bang.
Things Mr. Welch May Not Do During an RPG
The parking lot seems to be on fire.
I have no idea where I left my three-hole-punch. I also need to keep drawing assorted little cartoons, because I win at that, in general. But I have a plastic file crate full of empty binders, and this is a Good Thing. I've been filing away assorted things that need archiving, and consolidating things. One of these days, all my written diaries will be backed up in electronic form.
Things I have gotten away with at work now include:
- Pelt supervisor with Atomic Fireballs during team meeting.
- Hold up "Applause" and "Boo" signs during team meeting.
I make playlists in my head. I know I had one called "Bad Love", but it's disappeared somewhere.
"Borderline", Madonna.
"Two Out of Three Ain't Bad"
"I Will Survive" (and maybe "Believe", that might be better)
Perhaps "Walls" and/or "The Distance", and/or "Perhaps, Perhaps, Perhaps".
"Everybody Knows", maybe "Hallelujah", but it's not that kind of playlist, I don't think.
UV-reactive cats!
![[info]](https://stat.livejournal.com/img/sponcomm.gif){kind=small}
news: LOOK AT ALL THIS COOL BLINKING SHIT!! We'll be 100% implemented and look exactly like MySpace by a year from today, on April 1, 2008! burr86: "Thanks 4 t3h ADD!!1!!"Eastern Users & Those Anticipating This: "Nice one. Happy April Fool's Day to you too!"
Users West of Chicago & Not Prepared Yet: "$#@*(!@#*(. ... Oh. Right. April frickin' Fool's Day."
Users Who Haven't Caught On: *freak out, rant, run around in circles screaming*
Ashamed to be Caught Out Users: *delete ranty comments after realizing what day it is*
burr86 and other helpful news denizens: *reply to ranty comments before they are deleted* "Check your calendar! ;) "Ashamed to be Caught Out Users: "WTF. I DELETED that PDQ. How did you...?"
burr86: *hasn't turned off e-mail notifications* Unamused Users: "Laa-aame. Wasn't LJ supposed to be cool and funny back in the day?"
Paranoid Users: "Laugh it up, but we'll see who's laughing when changes like this REALLY HAPPEN! This is a vision of dystopia here."
The NSFW-sensitive: "Big! Red! Finger! LJ-cut!! My eyes! My children's eyes! My boss's eyes!"
Vgift Addicts: "Please tell me the finger vgift is for reals, at least?"
/b/tards and other offsite buddies: *lovefest*
lj_dirtycache: *have a really scary style*MySpace Mockers: *act like stereotypical MySpace users for the lolz*
Spammers: *spam*
Maintainers: *delete spam*
burr86's inbox: *catches fire*-
- the phat street-influenced beats laid down by
![[profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
lj_dirtycache
Basic Geek Body Types
Feb. 20th, 2007 12:48 amStick: Your stereotypical 98-lb weakling, if you're going to get technical about it. Thin, slender, verging on emaciation -- this geek is not going to win any strength contests any time soon, except by cunning. Don't underestimate the cunning. Brains and a plan can win out over brute strength as long as brains has a head start to get the plan in place.
Ninja: This wily geek is fast on his or her feet, small and slight of build, and through dedicated training, packs a surprising amount of wiry muscle on that small frame. Will kick your ass.
Barbarian / Amazon: This geek is built to a larger scale than the Ninja, has well-toned muscles (oiled & rippling are a bonus) and is equally at home in the gym, the library/computer room, and the DDR pad in the arcade. Will kick your ass.
Teddy Bear: Has enough padding to be eminently huggable (and knock someone's eyes out if laced into a tight bodice). Can be fearsome warriors, especially when disturbed. Scaled from giant grizzly to baby koala.
Cushion: This geek is rather round and soft. Do not underestimate this geek, however: they are given to sudden and alarming (if perhaps infrequent) feats of strength, and have been occasionally known to pick up an unsuspecting Barbarian or Teddy Bear and heave them across the room. Not half so vulnerable to being stuffed in a locker as the Stick, and can be hidden behind in case of enemy attack.
Fragile: Treat this geek with the same care you would exercise with a shiny new bit of tech swag. Do not expose to extreme temperatures, shock, static electricity, sharp objects, abrasives, wild animals, unauthorized chemicals, or end-users.
"Average": Body type has no particular distinguishing characteristics. Could pass for a non-geek if cast as an extra in a movie.
Ninja: This wily geek is fast on his or her feet, small and slight of build, and through dedicated training, packs a surprising amount of wiry muscle on that small frame. Will kick your ass.
Barbarian / Amazon: This geek is built to a larger scale than the Ninja, has well-toned muscles (oiled & rippling are a bonus) and is equally at home in the gym, the library/computer room, and the DDR pad in the arcade. Will kick your ass.
Teddy Bear: Has enough padding to be eminently huggable (and knock someone's eyes out if laced into a tight bodice). Can be fearsome warriors, especially when disturbed. Scaled from giant grizzly to baby koala.
Cushion: This geek is rather round and soft. Do not underestimate this geek, however: they are given to sudden and alarming (if perhaps infrequent) feats of strength, and have been occasionally known to pick up an unsuspecting Barbarian or Teddy Bear and heave them across the room. Not half so vulnerable to being stuffed in a locker as the Stick, and can be hidden behind in case of enemy attack.
Fragile: Treat this geek with the same care you would exercise with a shiny new bit of tech swag. Do not expose to extreme temperatures, shock, static electricity, sharp objects, abrasives, wild animals, unauthorized chemicals, or end-users.
"Average": Body type has no particular distinguishing characteristics. Could pass for a non-geek if cast as an extra in a movie.
Hooray for Saturday!
Feb. 17th, 2007 03:40 pmefw presents: A Bujold thread. (efw is the Existential Flame War, where instead of flaming, one describes the flame in the time-honored fashion made popular by Title of the Song. For those who appreciate a fine SG-1 slash:
synecdochic: "Attention." Via A.J. Luxton: http://accrispin.blogspot.com/2007/02/happy-valentines-day-from-writer-beware.html and http://www.sfwa.org/beware/twentyworst.html -- places and people to back away from, or run away from.
Now there are more things that Mr. Welch may not do during an RPG. And, for those who haven't seen it yet, Skippy's List.
Asking techsupport a technical question when you're not a technical person is not recommended. One will get far better advice from shitty_advice.
Viametaquotes: A look inside botia's immune system.
Pimping:samurai_ko is collecting music lyrics for a project.
techsupport a technical question when you're not a technical person is not recommended. One will get far better advice from shitty_advice. Via
metaquotes: A look inside botia's immune system. Pimping:
samurai_ko is collecting music lyrics for a project.My mornings are full of random!
Sep. 13th, 2006 02:03 pmhcolleen: "There's room on my bookshelves! I won't have to purge for a while!" me: "It sounds like you have a reading disorder."
...yes, my roommate and I are total geeks.
A comedy of errors, starring the door-to-door religious, several dogs, and runaway milk production!
The final (I hope) installment in this particular IM-random problem:
[12:42] allthewaytk31@hotmail.com: hey who is this
[12:43] Azure Lunatic: We already had that conversation. You added me, I don't know you, so why the hell did you add me?
[12:44] allthewaytk31@hotmail.com: i dn who u r lol
[12:44] allthewaytk31@hotmail.com: asl
[12:45] Azure Lunatic: Not very much.
[12:45] allthewaytk31@hotmail.com: not very much/
[12:45] Azure Lunatic: I don't know very much ASL, just parts of the Manual Alphabet.
[12:46] allthewaytk31@hotmail.com: wow ur cool
[12:48] allthewaytk31@hotmail.com: how old r u
[12:49] Azure Lunatic: Old enough to know how to spell and know how to push the ignore button now. Bye-bye, little troll!
Is God Root?
Aug. 29th, 2006 11:35 amChristian Theology from the Perspective of UNIX System Administration: Final Exam -- if you're the sort of minor religion-geek who knows about Christianity, and you know *nix ... I recommend this. Don't bring food or drink into the lab.
http://xkcd.com/c91.html -- pwned. Not all of them are this good.
http://xkcd.com/c90.html -- jacket.
http://xkcd.com/c109.html -- spoiler.
http://xkcd.com/c116.html -- city.
http://xkcd.com/c122.html -- quirky.
http://xkcd.com/c134.html -- myspace.
http://xkcd.com/c136.html -- science fair.
http://xkcd.com/c137.html -- WORD.
http://community.livejournal.com/metaquotes/5370878.html -- more myspace. For the whole family! (Not work-safe text.)
http://xkcd.com/c90.html -- jacket.
http://xkcd.com/c109.html -- spoiler.
http://xkcd.com/c116.html -- city.
http://xkcd.com/c122.html -- quirky.
http://xkcd.com/c134.html -- myspace.
http://xkcd.com/c136.html -- science fair.
http://xkcd.com/c137.html -- WORD.
http://community.livejournal.com/metaquotes/5370878.html -- more myspace. For the whole family! (Not work-safe text.)
From http://www.wpuniverse.com:
From WPU:
These companies failed to think their domain names through:
1). A site called 'Who represents' where you can find the name of the agent that represents a celebrity. Their domain name is:
http://www.whorepresents.com
2). 'Experts Exchange', a knowledge base where programmers can exchange advice and views at:
http://www.expertsexchange.com
3). Looking for a pen? Look no further than 'Pen Island' at:
http://www.penisland.net
4) Need a therapist? Try 'Therapist Finder' at:
http://www.therapistfinder.com
5). Then of course, there's the Italian Powergen Company:
http://www.powergenitalia.com
6). And now, we have the Mole Station Native Nursery, based in New South Wales:
http://www.molestationnursery.com
7). If you're looking for computer software, there's always
http://www.ipanywhere.com
8). Welcome to the First Cumming Methodist Church. Their website:
http://www.cummingfirst.com
9). Then, of course, there's these brainless art designers, and their wacky website:
http://www.speedofart.com
10). Want to holiday in Lake Tahoe?????? Try their brochure website at:
http://www.gotahoe.com !
Tahoe gets extra credit for their bus system.
Also: Cats: Revenge Pooping
Also also: the talented
lizardspots brings us Not Safe for Work: Jack/Elizabeth/Will art! With link to fic! Highly recommended![Edited To Add: Have started to commence less-polished/less-canned blogging in the comments to random posts that I feel need a little bit of fill-in-the-blanks. Like this one. But I didn't feel like making a new post. So there.]
So after India slammed into Eurasia, it suddenly developed rivers! ( *groan* )
The noted philosopher claimed that an alien tractor beam had wrested control of his car from him, causing the five-car pile-up. The police determined that it was in fact driver error due to distraction and not paying attention to traffic. Why? ( *GROAN* )
The noted philosopher claimed that an alien tractor beam had wrested control of his car from him, causing the five-car pile-up. The police determined that it was in fact driver error due to distraction and not paying attention to traffic. Why? ( *GROAN* )
Wednesday to Weekend to Wednesday again
Jun. 30th, 2006 03:14 amSometimes it seems like I live for Wednesdays. This one featured less sheer debauchery, but lots of hilarity, not to mention the scene in the parking lot, where we provided the denizens with far too much entertainment. (I am glad that the cops park on the other side, though technically all we were doing was flailing about a lot, giggling, and inciting possible traffic accidents.)
My pirate name is Burn. D's is Slash. ("And you're Crash!"easalle cried triumphantly, but we decided it had to be Slash, for the yaoi.) Good gods no, I am not going by Acid as well.
Some uncomfortable truths came out, after. I amazed myself with the starkness with which I presented the story. An opening line like that sort of falls very loudly in the ensuing silence.
Am backlogged on comments, entries, and e-mail. Thalia is still with the BOfD. I have not finished checking my e-mail, and it has taken three hours, 'k? So anything I need to see/hear/read, link me.
Am thinking of writing up a schedule for the day for my phone goons (and me) tomorrow:
12 noon: supervisor arrives, starts setting up job and coffee machine.
12:45: supervisor finishes first cup of coffee, and panics because we're not going to have enough person/hours to finish out the job today.
1pm: Midshift commences. Snarky Lady finishes briefing new hires on $ISSUE_SIDE_JOB. Supervisor finishes first pot of coffee.
1:11pm: Monitor reports start hitting supervisor.
1:15pm: Supervisor hits restroom. Then coffee machine.
2pm: Snarky Lady turns new hires loose on the phones.
2:11pm: Monitor reports for new hires start hitting supervisor.
2:25pm: Supervisor belatedly ducks, starts another pot of coffee.
2:45pm: Nervous breakdown #1 for supervisor. Cure: coffee.
3pm: Evening shift commences.
3:07pm: Nervous breakdown #2 for supervisor. Cure: more coffee.
4pm: Late arrivals arrive.
5pm: 8pm Eastern time. Supervisor is gibbering wreck, especially considering that 70 of the 86 needed interviews are from Eastern time zone cells, and those are the hardest to get, and may not be dialed late. Solution: offer coffee to phone goons.
5:30pm: Midshift takes 1/2 hour break. Supervisor takes tranquilizers. Eastern time zone may no longer be dialed without an order from God. Now dialing Central to get the few last surveys in the cells in question.
6pm: Midshift returns from break. Emergency backup supervisor has taken over while primary supervisor melts down again, and/or gets rid of recycled coffee.
6:30pm: Midshift dismissed. Evening shift given choice of 15 minute break (which they've earned) and departure after same, or immediate departure. Supervisor scraped off ceiling, given antidote caffiene.
6:45pm: Last stragglers from evening shift told to get the f*** out of here, supervisor has to start all the paperwork.
7:45pm: Supervisor working on paperwork and a cup of coffee.
8:45pm: Supervisor still working on paperwork and another cup of coffee.
9:45pm: Supervisor asking for a hand with paperwork. Coffee is cold and nasty, but still drinkable.
10:30pm: Supervisor finally done with paperwork... until tomorrow morning, when we start THE NEW MONTH OF $ISSUE_SIDE_JOB!!!!!!!
My pirate name is Burn. D's is Slash. ("And you're Crash!"
easalle cried triumphantly, but we decided it had to be Slash, for the yaoi.) Good gods no, I am not going by Acid as well. Some uncomfortable truths came out, after. I amazed myself with the starkness with which I presented the story. An opening line like that sort of falls very loudly in the ensuing silence.
Am backlogged on comments, entries, and e-mail. Thalia is still with the BOfD. I have not finished checking my e-mail, and it has taken three hours, 'k? So anything I need to see/hear/read, link me.
Am thinking of writing up a schedule for the day for my phone goons (and me) tomorrow:
12 noon: supervisor arrives, starts setting up job and coffee machine.
12:45: supervisor finishes first cup of coffee, and panics because we're not going to have enough person/hours to finish out the job today.
1pm: Midshift commences. Snarky Lady finishes briefing new hires on $ISSUE_SIDE_JOB. Supervisor finishes first pot of coffee.
1:11pm: Monitor reports start hitting supervisor.
1:15pm: Supervisor hits restroom. Then coffee machine.
2pm: Snarky Lady turns new hires loose on the phones.
2:11pm: Monitor reports for new hires start hitting supervisor.
2:25pm: Supervisor belatedly ducks, starts another pot of coffee.
2:45pm: Nervous breakdown #1 for supervisor. Cure: coffee.
3pm: Evening shift commences.
3:07pm: Nervous breakdown #2 for supervisor. Cure: more coffee.
4pm: Late arrivals arrive.
5pm: 8pm Eastern time. Supervisor is gibbering wreck, especially considering that 70 of the 86 needed interviews are from Eastern time zone cells, and those are the hardest to get, and may not be dialed late. Solution: offer coffee to phone goons.
5:30pm: Midshift takes 1/2 hour break. Supervisor takes tranquilizers. Eastern time zone may no longer be dialed without an order from God. Now dialing Central to get the few last surveys in the cells in question.
6pm: Midshift returns from break. Emergency backup supervisor has taken over while primary supervisor melts down again, and/or gets rid of recycled coffee.
6:30pm: Midshift dismissed. Evening shift given choice of 15 minute break (which they've earned) and departure after same, or immediate departure. Supervisor scraped off ceiling, given antidote caffiene.
6:45pm: Last stragglers from evening shift told to get the f*** out of here, supervisor has to start all the paperwork.
7:45pm: Supervisor working on paperwork and a cup of coffee.
8:45pm: Supervisor still working on paperwork and another cup of coffee.
9:45pm: Supervisor asking for a hand with paperwork. Coffee is cold and nasty, but still drinkable.
10:30pm: Supervisor finally done with paperwork... until tomorrow morning, when we start THE NEW MONTH OF $ISSUE_SIDE_JOB!!!!!!!
