Rant-A-Day

the time traveling mangoes will rule us justly.

the space shuttle Endeavor is a less than ideal place for making out with redheads, for obvious reasons.

http://www.defaceababy.com

I have heard several reports of China planning on seeding clouds in order to have more clear weather for the 2008 olympics. I’m terribly worried about this situation as some clouds already have various narcotic addictions. For example, Thunder clouds are merely angry drunk clouds while fog just happens to be a collection of stoner clouds that are cool with ‘just chilling’ on the ground while looking at humans and trying to figure out what animals they look like. While under the influence of chemicals, clouds forget their primary responsibility of protecting nature from heinous sunburns. I submit that global warming is but a symptom of a much sicker disease.

By pumping clouds full of chemicals we are only feeding their addiction. Morally, I cannot support such poor decision making.

-Holiday

Apparently, you can do it if you make pi a constant. And then try to have that constant legislated. In Indiana.

An a side note, I’m moving to Iowa to have the “Women are the root of all evil” equation taught to all fourth graders.

I will also be attempting to have the tone associated with my phone number named the national anthem.

Lastly, I’ve recently had the city of Palo Alto pass a piece of legislature declare the number of hairs on my head as the actual value for 100^5.

During a recent late-night french fry and chocolate shake fest, the age old debate of whom should take whose name in a marriage came up. The ladies at the table indicated mostly that they would rather keep their own names, or hyphenate, with the exception of one woman, having already married and dropped her name, was rather happy to no longer be called something along the lines of Ms. Syphilis-Indigestion.

I, personally, would not stand for such shenanigans. Typically, I am well within my normal operating procedure to deal with shenanigans. There is supposed to be a “we” in marriage, and as such, I feel like having the same name is an important part of that. Naturally, this leaves us with only 3 options.

Option 1: The man takes the woman’s name.

An interesting concept, certainly. Very progressive. No one would see it coming. Perfectly legal. Also, really dull. And I think it would only be a matter of time before I got so tired of people telling me I was “the sweetest man in the world” before I drank myself into another Liu Kang fit.

Option 2: The man and woman combine their names into some sort of hybrid beast-name.

Only a few documented cases, this option is promising. Flimmons, you say? Is that dutch? German? Certainly not Japanese; there’s an ‘l.’ I would love to see a marriage between Cornelius Fudge and David Packard.

Option 3: Steal the identities of two arbitrary people at the wedding.

Nothing will bring two people together like pretending to be strangers! Imagine, you walk out of the church, and start your strange journey all over again, as complete strangers. Maybe not even as strangers… Perhaps you coincidentally chose an aunt and nephew as your new identities. Move to the south! Start the whole thing over again! Truly, this method can only lead to a life of international mystery and intrigue.

Lastly, I would once again like to express my concern for the Syphilis-Indigestion family. Your pain must be so similar to the diseases and symptoms you embody.

Is true! We can make food burgerz from the tin. If you eat, I destroyz hunger! Hunger suzpactz nothing.

Failure, that’s what happened. I have no excuses for my lack of Saturday and Sunday postingness. At both times, I was pre-occupied, but not to the point of near death. On Saturday, I spent the bulk of my time at the Stanford Job Fair, recruiting wee ones into my strange, robot-infested world. I have more than reached my quota of people for the year.

Then I did a proof of concept on a project I got roped into, though I don’t have nearly the time for it, simply because the problem seemed rather entertaining, and I can write a web advertising network in a weekend, right?

Then I took a nap. A good, long nap. Some might call the time period an epoch. I probably would not. After that I worked on a plethora of items on my plate, including a quite tasty steak quesadilla. I finished season 2 of the office,got a good chunk of code out the door, and low and behold, I nixed all restaurants with the same names as cities from our database. And it only took 4 days!

But this isn’t a rant like I know the four people reading want to hear, my sincerest apologies. But more importantly, my sincerest apologies for Saturday. And for Sunday. And probably for next weekend. I am but a feeble man that likes to wear sandals, eat goldfish crackers, and avoid robots like the plague.

Just because you can’t see him now, doesn’t mean blue leader’s not behind you. Unless you have your back to the wall, in which case its significantly less likely.

Unless we’re considering the other side of the wall still behind you, which technically it is. In which case, just about anywhere is behind you, since the world is a sphere and all that jazz. Which means, I’m behind you.

LOOK OUT!!!!!

That almost lasted a week.

Balls.

So, I’ve been on this huge Mexican food kick lately, and to my pleasant surprise the local grocery store carried this amazing pre-marinated seasoned fajita chicken. It was ten degrees of delicious. Unfortunately, I arrived at the butcher’s station last night, and to my dismay, I saw my sweet, succulent chicken covered in bell peppers and onions from those bastards in produce.

Why would you ruin a good thing?

WHY?!?!?!?!?!?!?