I'm Apparently Gay For Legolas

1:33:07 PM Kerplunk: which motivates me to buy a gun

1:33:24 PM Kerplunk: and a bow and arrow, because i want to be like fucking legolas

1:33:58 PM Teleolurian: you want to be fucking legolamb?

1:34:18 PM Kerplunk: hes so swift and non aging

1:34:25 PM Kerplunk: maybe i dont ever want wrinkles

1:34:32 PM Teleolurian: that's what asianism is for, i'll be young forever

1:34:46 PM Kerplunk: maybe i want to hear the pain of the forest and shit

1:34:55 PM Teleolurian: only if i'm causing said pain

1:35:06 PM Teleolurian: it would be awesome to kick the shit out of a forest

1:36:19 PM Teleolurian: don't be an elfass bitch

1:36:21 PM Kerplunk: fair enough

1:36:30 PM Teleolurian: galadriel was a total wuss

1:36:42 PM Kerplunk: you're a fucking wuss

1:36:47 PM Teleolurian: i could kick an elf's ass

1:36:57 PM Kerplunk: with your inability to look at someone in the face

1:37:06 PM Kerplunk: YOU COULDNT EVEN SEE THE ELF

1:37:08 PM Teleolurian: all i have to do is threaten to piss on a mushroom or something

1:37:21 PM Teleolurian: and then, when they're crying for the mushroom, steal all their shinies

1:37:35 PM Kerplunk: yea right. legolas would stick you

1:37:43 PM Teleolurian: legolas wants to stick me anyways

Standard Deviant

7:35:06 PM Teleolurian Kordyne: like, if somebody gets a mean 1000 hits to a website per week with a standard deviation of 200 hits, it's only 25% likely that they'll get 1400 hits in a week

7:35:45 PM Teleolurian Kordyne: but another person with 1000 hits a week and a standard deviation of 600 hits is 50% likely to see 1400 hits in a week

7:36:36 PM SGrDDyPiMP: how do you determine standard deviation?

7:37:23 PM Teleolurian Kordyne: get the number of hits for x weeks, find the average, subtract the mean from each week's count, square the counts, add the results, divide by the number of values, sqrt the result

7:37:36 PM Teleolurian Kordyne: simple math

7:38:13 PM SGrDDyPiMP: that makes my brain hurt - which must mean you're touching yourself

Stupid Horrible Sunlight

Last week, the President sent me my tax return, so my fiance and I decided to go be good consumers. You know, for America. So we went out to the new Town Square shopping center by Fry's Electronics, at the south end of the Strip. Mostly so I could pick up an Airport Extreme; I need that 802.11n love, and fast.

I also made sure to stimulate the entire American economy, using trickle-down powers granted to me by the ghost of Reagan, by buying a PSP. Wow. I didn't know handheld gaming systems had such great graphics. In fact, the graphics were so hypnotic and gorgeous - as if though I were watching CGI porn made of lasers - that I completely didn't post at all yesterday, because I was swimming through a beautiful sea of joy. With a mermaid made of chocolate, who cried syrup tears of pride as I beat all PSP games ever, all at once.

419 Scams Hit Prosper

Check it out while it's still running! There's a total 419 scam going on on Prosper, as someone who apparently works in the clergy claims to be bringing gold, diamonds, atom bombs, lions, tigers, and prostitutes from South Africa to the USA! Okay, just gold and diamonds. But still.

Besides the fact that the price of gold is totally fixed and there is no way this could happen, ever, that doesn't change the fact that somebody obviously thinks it can happen, and will probably privately message this upstanding church member to find out how to trade in their worthless American paper money for eternally rewarding gold. Which they will then probably craft into idols representing J-Lo.

Anyways, it's one more loan on Prosper that won't see any of my money. Even though I am going to go around the corner right now and show it to Jimmy. He'll think it's the awesomest idea ever.

Recent iTunes Loves

The Delgados - Witness

I seriously love the Delgados. This isn't the absolute best of their songs (Woke From Dreaming), but it is one that I just recently found in my collection, and I'm enjoying it a lot. And if you don't like Woke From Dreaming, whoever you are, you're a total cockrobber and should just turn in your headphones, now, to me. Because I keep breaking mine.

Cranes - Shining Road

Yeah, I had an annoying indie rock friend who kept talking about how superhumanly great the Cranes are. My analysis? Meh. Alison sounds like she's twelve. Seriously. But this song is good.

Denali - You File

Aww, Denali, how come you had to cease existing before I heard this song? Maybe it's because most of your other songs are just okay, or because you were eaten by vampire zombie sushi or something. Whatever. I set the CD player in my car to start on this song when I get in, so I can roll down the windows and everybody can hear what tremendously good taste in music I have.

The New Pornographers - Letter From An Occupant

You know I can't do a music post without mentioning Neko Case and her fantastic hot singing powers, which she uses to save tiny children from monsters. Neko Neko Neko. Apparently everyone in the world besides me has already heard this song, but damn it, I have a really really big music collection. I'll get through it, eventually.

Harsh Dose Of Reality

teleolurian:i heard she rode a horse, and then it exploded

[08:53am]MUUUUUUHFORD:and her butt is sore and thats why she is angry?

[08:53am]Kerplunk_secret_location:what?

[08:53am]teleolurian:it reminded her of when her grandfather was in the korean war

[08:54am]MUUUUUUHFORD:lol, drink some coffee plunk

[08:54am]teleolurian:and he threw his body on a grenade to save his squad

[08:54am]teleolurian:and it turned into a horse

[08:54am]Kerplunk_secret_location:i wanna rockstar

[08:54am]teleolurian:and then didn't explode

[08:54am]MUUUUUUHFORD:hahaha

[08:54am]MUUUUUUHFORD:was he humiliated?

[08:54am]teleolurian:no, but he was on a horse

[08:54am]teleolurian:which is pretty scary

[08:54am]teleolurian:because horses are scary

[08:54am]MUUUUUUHFORD:negative

[08:55am]MUUUUUUHFORD:horses are fucking awesome

[08:55am]teleolurian:i once pet a horse and it picked me up and swung me around and threw me thirty miles

[08:55am]teleolurian:then it wrote me one love letter a day for ten years

[08:55am]teleolurian:...then it died of a lung attack, which is like a heart attack but worse

[08:56am]teleolurian:oh my gosh, how can you people stand listening to me

The Dictatorship Of Wang

teleolurian:somebody's got ego problems

[2:32pm]teleolurian:and only i'm allowed to have those

[2:33pm]d:it's all about the wang here

[2:33pm]teleolurian:she has to reset up irc

[2:34pm]teleolurian:i suppose we'd better clean up before the girls get here

[2:34pm] You changed the topic to "boobs".

[2:34pm]teleolurian:there we are

[2:34pm] Topic changed to "huge boobs" by d.

[2:34pm] Kerplunk joined the chat room.

[2:34pm]teleolurian:congrabulations

[2:34pm]d:good timing

[2:34pm]Kerplunk:WOOOOO

[2:34pm] Kerplunk was promoted to operator by you.

[2:35pm]Kerplunk:thank you thank you

Trickle Down

Each day

We receive an alloted amount of creativity.

I probably get more than you.

In fact, I probably get more

Than you and your circle of friends

Put together.

This is because Fate loves me.

Probably because I'm asian.

As each hour ticks by

Witty retorts

Brilliant pieces of code

And drug seeking behaviour

Reduce the amount of creativity remaining.

Kind of like a gas tank

Full of methamphetamine.

I have a pretty big side project.

It's hard.

Like, calculus hard.

Difficult projects excite me.

So now I'm all over it

Like Rain Man.

Every day the sun goes down.

And most people go to sleep

And have the dreams

That fill up their tanks

Like a coke mule receiving his parcel.

Except of course

That dreams don't always hurt.

But I can't work forever.

I will be back

Very, very soon.

AOL's Wonderful SMTP Response

A little background info: mail servers are very polite to each other. You say "HELO", they say "250 Ok". It's all some very seemly, gentlemanly conduct. Look at this spammy response from AOL:

Apr  9 12:17:24 [servername] postfix/smtp[23067]: B8698966A: to=[redacted], relay=mailin-04.mx.aol.com[64.12.138.57]:25, delay=804, delays=0/803/0.28/0.23, dsn=5.0.0, status=bounced (host mailin-04.mx.aol.com[64.12.138.57] said: 550 We would love to have gotten this email to [redacted]. But, your recipient never logged onto their free AIM Mail account. Please contact them and let them know that they're missing out on all the super features offered by AIM Mail. And by the way, they're also missing out on your email. Thanks. (in reply to RCPT TO command))

OMFG, AOL. A simple "550 Bounced" would have sufficed. I don't need to feel like the computers want me to be a telemarketer, not to mention that you're swamping our mail logs with this crap.

Flippin Out

I just got the Flip video camera, and it's pretty freakin' sweet. Unfortunately, it makes a loud power-on noise, so I can't just bust out with the filming of hot girl-on-girl action at a moment's notice. But that's okay, because I can just turn it on and THEN go into customer service. Where, um. The hot girl-on-girl action takes place.

They're not actually on each other back there yet, but I'm sure I can just whip some Chanel No. 5 or something through the door. Or some pictures of cute puppies. Or, like, a Milky Way. Bitches love Milky Ways.

Nobody Says It Better

teleolurian:nobody is more important than your media collection

[2:14pm]teleolurian:it's like, if the terrorists broke in and said they'd take either my wife or my terabyte drive...

[2:14pm]teleolurian:...

[2:14pm]teleolurian:i have like THREE SEASONS of house

[2:14pm]d:lol

Tweeker Tire

They're all over Las Vegas. They operate 24 hours a day. They will fix the shit out of your tires.

Welcome to the tweeker tire shops.

The first time I rolled into one, I had no idea what to expect. Tweeker tire shops are run exclusively by Mexicans, and I was wondering if I needed to perform some secret handshake embedded deep in cultural memory in order not to get a tire forged from shit. Let me tell you something: in Las Vegas, the Mexicans are either the friendliest, most wonderful people you can possibly know, or else they will piss on you with a gun full of bullets.

Instead, they took off my tire and did some crazy magic to it, in a massive pool of water, making it magically newer than new. I have no idea how they manage to run 24 hours a day (METH) or how they can fix your shit so fast (METH), but I wish they would branch out. 24 hour window repair; sandwich making; corpse reburial (programmers get lonely too). These guys are fantastic. Good game.

The Future Is Tomorrow

Geez, the freaking internet.

I remember when I was a kid, and they were showing the MOUSE on Saturday morning television as the newest, most revolutionary invention yet. The mouse. And now, all of a sudden, I can make loans through Prosper; I can get a more or less accurate account of anything in the world via Wikipedia or the Urban Dictionary; I can see more naked women then I thought could possibly exist.

So, obviously, I'm bored like ninety percent of the time.

When I'm not writing code or doing simple administration work, I'm surfing the web while my mind crunches the next hurdle I have to navigate. There are like six billion channels, literally, and nothing is on. There's not much point in taking a day off (I already got marked down for unexcused awesomeness) because at home, I'm pretty much using the same internet. And you manager types who think I should be quantizing my time or carpe-ing my diem need to die in a fire. Programming well is thinky work. And thinking requires webcomics. It's all in the Bible, somewhere.

I really wonder what my life would have turned out like if I'd grown up in the rock-beating, wheel-inventing days of Before The Internet. I probably would have gotten addicted to laudanum or absinthe or something and done whatever the prehistoric version of "checking my email over and over" was.

But then I would have invented rocket lasers and killed everyone, twice.

Workers Of America Unite

I have a truly colossal amount of work to do. I love how it avalanches in, burying me completely, and then everybody waits with bated breath just because I'm the guy who wrote the system and nobody really understands how to use it (including me).

Sorry I'm not hilarious at the moment; I promise I will be at my first opportunity.

Where Babies Come From

jason
dammit, gina
why'd she have to get preggers

teleolurian
because she sat on a dick
duh

jason
that... was disturbingly blunt

200 Posts Of Love, Please Kill Yourself

When I started this blog project last August, I certainly wasn't expecting it to still be around, not to mention be at 200 posts* before even one year had passed. I suppose I have a good thing here, with the freedom to pretty much post about any random thing that enters my head. For the record, I currently write for three blogs, and this is the only one to have reached so many posts (despite being younger and having less writers than Edible Unknown).

[Today's round of completely obvious narcissism is brought to you by FudgeBar. FudgeBar, it's full of nuts.]

* Some particularly offensive posts were cycled back into draft.

Fifty Five Point Two

Guess what I scored on my purity test. Seriously. Close your eyes and think of a single-decimal floating point number between 55.1 and 55.3. And then put a percent sign after it. I think this means I win everything, forever. It's a monumental occasion. I should throw a party. One that includes farm animals.

Huh? Oh, You're Damaged

Please, please note that I am not your therapist.

While I am sitting at my computer, composing letters of apology for my unexcused awesomeness, reading bash, and chatting people, I am killing time by doing things that I like to do. The fact that I do them all day... well. That's because they pay me the big bucks to sit in front of the computer, writing code. I am not an internet psychoanalyst.

I do not know where your boyfriend is. He is probably outside my house, waiting for me to come home, because I am sexy and he likes penis. I hope he brought chocolate syrup.

I don't know why you can't ever seem to meet the right person. Well, I do. It's because you read the common law wrong. When a gentleman opens the door for you, it doesn't bind him into a lifetime of servitude.

I really am not sure how come things keep ending up the way they do, but I did get a letter in a bottle recently that said Y_u _ust mig_t b_ a b_tch.

This has been a hopefully short and sweet public service announcement. I am now going to hit 'Ignore'.

Outdated Concepts Of Marriage

11:23:55 AM Kerplunk: thats stupid

11:24:06 AM Kerplunk: these people should kill themselves

11:25:18 AM Teleolurian: but then there'd be less people in the world that want to marry me forever

11:28:50 AM Kerplunk: oh god

11:28:54 AM Kerplunk: haha

11:29:11 AM Kerplunk: hopefully, when people want to marry you, its forever

11:29:18 AM Teleolurian: they all do

11:29:19 AM Kerplunk: thats kind of a deal sealer

11:29:35 AM Kerplunk: to have and to hold, til DEATH DO YOU PART

11:29:54 AM Teleolurian: in sickness and in health UNTIL YOUR GREEN CARD APPLICATION COMES BACK SIGNED

The Cold That Would Not Die

I have had this chest cold for the past ten days.

How, you may ask, is this possible? How does something like a cold manage to persist for more than a week? It's a mystery, just like twinkies. Floating around in my veins are the twenty-times-great grandchildren of the original viral expedition that planted its flag on the arterial shores of my disgusting, infested bloodstream.

I really don't know what's going on, and I hope all the space invaders die off soon. All I have right now is the grim satisfaction of watching everyone around me get sick and die. Which is way more fun than you might think.