Old Mexico never tasted like this

Maybe really, really Old Mexico...

Just a reminder that anything still in your refrigerator from before Christmas, Kwanza and definately Channukah is now officially OLD. Even if you're Agnostic, Pagan, Believin' Atheist, or just too freakin' lazy to comptemplate your place in the world, contemplate this: Gazillions of those hairy, squishy, greenish grey bacterial buggers have been camping out for more than a month on what used to be your food. Eating, growing, multiplying, expanding in such a way as to... Well, you know what happens to food *after* it's been eaten, right? Right.

Now the more frugal of you may be tempted to scarf down the borderline items right before they cross the finish line. This can lead to Dangerous Combinations of things that, individually, may be food, but when combined undergo a nauseous metamorphosis that transcends culinary description and ventures into That Which Man Was Not Meant To Taste. Please, act responsibly. You only have one set of tastebuds, and they have to last your whole life.

Art is where you find it

...and sometimes art finds you. I could have taken a better picture, but I was too busy Rocking Out. Maybe one day, if you're really good, eat your Wheaties, and say your prayers, Paul Thorn will come to your town.

Snow Day!

Ah, Snow Days. Those precious gifts bestowed upon us by a fickle Mother Nature, perhaps in atonement for rainy days at the beach, that spooky calm outside that starts when you tie the line to your new kite, or the dark looming clouds racing over the horizon when you just want to test out this really cool idea in your new solar oven, BUT NOOOOO!!!! That old hag has nothing better to do with her freakin' air pressure gradients than billow huge, grim, Old Testament, impenetrable clouds all ---

Ahem.

When you're a kid, a Snow Day is a free pass. Maybe you haven't finished your mobile for Ancient Greece Week, or Rudy Gimleson is going to pound you after 4th period because somebody told him you looked at his car wrong. Whatever's ailing you, a Snow Day is the cure.

Unless, of course, you work at home. In which case you have to sneak out early so you can be back at your desk by 9am.

I'm just saying is all.

Marketing 101

I majored in Mathematics, not Marketing, which means that I didn't wear Ray Bans, drink all weekend, or hang out with guys named "Ralston Q Parkersmith III, but everybody calls me Spaulding". I'm not exactly a people-person. I'm more of a person-person. This is a good thing, because I'm uncomfortable with (ie annoyed by) those who refer to themselves in the plural. It also should serve as an indication that if you need to unload 457 metric tons of second-hand snow on Nanook's Home and Garden Supply, I'm not the one to consult. But even one as socially and sociologically unaware as I, has no trouble recognizing why the New Hampshire segment of the Chinese Food Industry is struggling. (Photo taken through the car window while on Christmas vacation.)

This quiz has one question and counts for 100% of your grade for this course. I hope you didn't stay up all night studying when you could have been shotgunning Goebels with Ralston Q and The Buds.

Obey Giant

Even in New Hampshire, Andre has a posse. I snapped this shot of the side of an abandoned light industrial building. The intertubes snake their way around the world and into the New England zeitgeist*. If this were a wider angle photo you might be surprised by the lack of snow.


*Sorry. I just wanted to be one of those guys who can casually toss a really pretentious word like "zeitgeist" into his blog once in awhile.

Melvin goes shopping

Melvin found an open shop on level 4, even though it's Christmas! They didn't have much, 2 lamps that when rubbed turned out to not be magic, and an extra food ration. The shop was a nice place to read a scroll (enchant weapon) and try on the dwarven cloak which turned out to be +1.

Now he's on dungeon level 6, as a level 6 Bachelor with armor class -1 and a +3 long sword. With only apples and carrots for sustanence, Melvin remains optimistic though a bit peckish.

Further updates as events warrant.

Melvin of the Apes

So...

Well, you know how it is. Things get sorta hectic and there's work stuff and suddenly the tree crew is hauling huge oaks out of your backyard on this awesome tracked vehicle with an hydraulic claw, and the cat kinda freaks out and darts past the dishwasher repairman and hides under the car and by the time you've grabbed her and hauled her back inside it turns out to be just a switch next to the garbage disposal so you've still got time to decorate cookies and make it to the basketball game. Which is cool because you've done most of your shopping and wrapped stuff so you can leave it in the closet when you go to Southern Pines, where it will stay (in the closet I mean) until sometime in 2007 (see Casino Royale by the way) and you can make it back down and give it to your Dad so it can rain all the way back home like it did 3 or 4 times in a row until last time, when the weather was just a little bit nicer than it was for the flight to Boston which was actually very smooth, maybe because we approached Logan from the west instead of over Boston Harbor and it wasn't as turbulent so we actually made it to NH ahead of the presents which showed up the next day for the most part thanks to UPS who's logistics rock on toast.

I totally reamed out my laptop and put on a fresh windows install and an extra 256MB of memory, so it feels like a much faster machine now. If your windows install is more than 18 months old, I highly recommend it.

I'm playing Slash-EM (Super Lots of Added Stuff Hack - Enhanced Magic) this holiday season. Let me introduce you to Melvin. He's a Lawful Male Human Knight. He has a horse, but he's around a corner right now so we can't see him. Melvin is trying to recover the Amulet of Yendor (somewhere below level 25 of the dungeon). He's not the brightest guy in the world, but what he lacks in brains he makes up for in shortness.

Gotta go wrap presents soon. Melvin says "Hey."

Pumpkin Pi

There are no holidays that cannot be enhanced by math puns.

A Lot of Good Reasons

The Wife's out of town, time for steak, egg and cheese biscuits! Uh... maybe just one.

It's Friday the 13th, and that means good luck for Tom. I found a new Jimmy Buffett album in the bookstore this morning. My head has been buried in the sand of work and obligation for so long that I didn't even know one was coming out. I just popped in to get A Prairie Home Companion and there it was on the new releases shelf. As a bonus, there was a new Neil Gaiman collection as well. Barbeque for lunch and all is right with the world.

Nothin' But the Devil

Font smoothing is the root of all evil. I spent the bulk of yesterday tracking down a bug that had to do with black and white bitmaps of text not being black and white anymore due to "font smoothing". Font Smoothing. Like that's going to solve the world's problems.

Great Scott!

Where does it end?

Note:

This entry brought to you by Mr. Grumpy-Drawers.

The Paul Thorn rock out marathon is no longer counted in hours. It is now a state of being.

National Novel Writing Month starts in three weeks. I'm gonna finish this time, or at least eclipse my paltry 6500 word effort of last year. I'm thinking I'm busier this year, so I'll get more done.

Speaking of which...

Where was I ?

Current Desk Inventory:

Two monitors (one 20" LCD with dual inputs, and an old 17" CRT), three mice, three keyboards, three thermal printers, one ink jet printer, one LCD signature pad, one signature pad without display, one laptop, two Windows XP Pro PCs, one Debian Linux PC, a wireless router, a scanner, a seven format memory card reader, and two USB memory keys.

So Tom, tell us why you only had one blog entry in September. Huh? Why?

* * *

You know what I like about libraries and bookstores? They're full of possibilities. Stories, ideas, new technology, answers to questions great and small, are all laid out before you. Of course, it takes some commitment to follow through and read the book or try the idea or build the gadget. That commitment comes at the price of the exclusion of other wonderful possibilites. But while you're there, reading titles and scanning tables of contents, the world, everything in it and beyond, is in reach.

Sure Sign

So I'm wondering around the house, trying to figure out what a "Path Error (-4)" could really mean, since it's not in the documentation and seems to have nothing to do with paths, when I step into the bedroom and see a unicorn head peeking out at me from under the covers. Light headed and dizzy, I slump to the floor, wondering which of her many offers was the one I Couldn't Refuse but did anyway.

Was it when she cheerfully volunteered to work the gas and break pedals with her hands while I steered the car? How about the time she said she'd be happy to cook strawberry cake with tofu icing and cheese for dinner? "Lawd ham mercy" I thought to myself, "I'm toast if I don't figure out what I did or didn't do."

"How's Tom?"

"Oh Tom... won't see him no more."

In a cold sweat I rack my brains, wondering which slight sent her over the edge. Kindergarteners can be so touchy sometimes. Maybe it was because I wouldn't let her watch movies all night and eat blueberries and cupcakes until the sun came up.

I gathered up my courage, walked into her room, kissed the big pink plastic gem on her Disney Princess ring, and asked her what I had done to cause her such unhappiness, and how could I make amends. With a casual wave of her hand she replies, "Oh, Mommy and I were just playing 'Unicorn Vetrinarian'".

As Vito himself used to say, "Women and children can be careless, but not men."

That's all I know right now

Let's take a moment to talk about Personal Health and Beauty Product Packaging.

If you're like most people, and most people are, you're not exactly at your cognative peak when you stagger into your morning shower. I'm lucky to remember that cold water knob is on the left, and the hot on the right. At least I think so. Actually, I usually stand outside the shower and freeze until I get the temperature right. Once bitten, twice shy and all that. As further evidence of a depreciated mental state, I somehow think that this would be a good time to drag a pair of razor blades over my face and neck. When the bleeding is mostly staunched I'm faced with selecting each of the the pictured products and applying same to their associated body parts. Kind of like a multiple choice quiz, but with hygenic consequences.

Which brings me back to the packaging of these items. I realize that all of the marketing computers are telling these companies the same things about the size, shape, and color of package that appeals most to the discerning super market shopper. But for the love of Pete, could you please agree on a level of variation that will make it less likely for people like me to find out just what exactly 2.54 ounces of "Gillette(R) Series(tm) after shave gel sensative skin" tastes like?

I need a new toothbrush and a haircut.

Resurrection Day

Ahhh. My office is Carolina Blue. My whiteboards are up. All is right with the world. My new pack of disposable razors even claims to have a "Soft Ultragrip". I'm on the top of the heap, baby.

Ain't Livin' in Sin No More

Ever hear the phrase "Ugly as Homemade Sin"? Thanks to the fine professional gentlemen who have consented to paint our house in exchange for certain financial considerations, we are well on our way to asthetic normalcy. Yee-hah!

The living room and dining room are done. The other rooms are full of boxes covered in plastic, awaiting the return of a more palatable palatte. My office is still Navy Blue since they're saving the wallpapered rooms for last. It will be wonderful when the painting is finished and we can finally unpack. Mmmmm, domestic tranquility. Isn't there something in the Constitution about that? We need an ammendment regarding the colors tenants are and are not allowed to use in rented houses...

I thought the wife would be the one who was most aggrieved by our home's interior tragedy. Oddly, I'm the on who's most disturbed by it. But do I complain? Hell yes!

I'm holed up this weekend hosting a marathon programming party. I'm also the only guest. Still, it's nice to be able to cross off big chunks of my task list. PDF file generators fear me.

More next time I take a break. For now I'm back at it...

BlackRainbow

Well, we're back. They painted the interior of the house, except where it needed it...

I think these tragic pictures speak for themselves.

We're settling in. The water heater blew up this morning, right after the toilet broke. They tell me the events were not related. I'm not so sure.

Things Left Undone

Paul Thorn Rock-Out Marathon hour 1295, and packing is nearly finished. Just the last minute sweeps of the rooms, pack up the computer, and stow the bed linens in the morning.

You'll have to use your imagination kiddies, the camera, card reader, and usb cables are all packed. Besides, one empty house looks pretty much like another. Right now an empty house looks pretty good.

Avast me hearties! Tomorrow we sail fer home!

800 Pound Jesus

More like: "9,700 pounds? Jesus!"

Packing continues.

(Paul Thorn rock out marathon hour 997)

Every little bit hurts

Paul Thorn rock-out marathon hour 954.

There are few immutable rules in life. One of them is: If it stings Tom, it dies.

There was (note the clever foreshadowing provided by the past tense) a wasp nest in the car port last week. I didn't think much of it; live and let live. Until I was trying to get some boxes out of the back seat of the car, and a wasp flies down and bounces off my UNC hat...

"That was kinda wierd. (Gears slowly grinding into motion) They must not like me being so close to their nest in a bright orange Auburn TShirt. (Gears emmiting horrible screeching noise as they gain momentum) I'd better get these boxes out of the car (Gears spinning freely, finally up to speed) before, OWW!! That *%^&ing little son of a *%&#$ing &%^$ *#&^%#$er stung me!" And it hurt too. Not as bad as some stories would have you believe, but it's by no means pleasant.

It's also interesting to note that while it failed to penetrate my UNC hat, it had no trouble piercing my flesh through an Auburn shirt.

Heels: 1

Tigers/WarEagles/WhateverThey'reCallingThemselvesThisWeek: 0.

So I popped out to the grocery store that night and invested in a can of pressurized and highly potent neurotoxins, developed by member of my species for the express purpose of eleminating members of his species. Heh. I got your food chain right here pal. Long story short: Who would you put your money on, the species that builds their houses out of paper, or the one that builds their houses out of concrete and steel?

Double Wide Paradise

Paul Thorn rock-out marathon hour 877.

I have lots of things to write about when I'm too busy to write about them. Thus, no entries for five weeks.

The beach was awesome, as usual. Communed with four of the five nephews. Hung out with siblings. Told bad jokes with my Dad. Took a stack of books that I didn't get to open. Got some kites in the air. Consumed much tasty comestabilia*. Ate NC Barbeque three times. Had taffy and orange sherbert on a porch swing with the spousal unit. Generally decompressed at a time when decompression was called for.


*You may know this as food. Hmm, maybe "comestabilia" should be food that you take home as a souvenir, like a doggie bag?