Pillbox bingo
I have weird friends. Or rather, they have me and I… No.
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One of the things that seems to define life events for me is the smell of fresh coffee.
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Elsenet (as said once in 1995 on The Well, by someone who probably quite liked Bruce Sterling books and had a pile of Mondo 2000 mags) someone was pondering-out-loud (Twitter.
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Oh, computer. The ancient m/b, which I had managed to keep mostly working by throwing a SSD and lots of memory at, finally couldn’t keep up with the weight of the JS required to make FB work.
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I’ve been in absolute pieces wrt SOPHIE and I have been struggling for an even slightly rational explanation, but I think it’s about multiple wolves.
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The last few weeks I have been regularly moved to tears by the toast-rack in one of the kitchen drawers.
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(This is a C&P from an aged LJ post, inspired by some tangenteering on someone else’s FB.
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I’m not sure I should bother others with weird dreams because they’re usually meaningless, but this one was, well…
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One of the things that I’m doing at work is hacking on our VM-build rig so that is it less terrible to use.
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Many years ago, when plotting my escape from VBCnet (ISP. Run by a Vietnam vet, which was, um, interesting) I went for an interview at something called X-Stream.
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The other thing that happened in the recent past was that we beetled off to the US.
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