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She loves the cream!

Being awake at the same time and listening to the same songs means saying "She loves the cream!" at the same time when the topic of Oreos comes up.

*snerk*

This is hysterical, and about the same factual quality you'd expect from a cross between The Register, Overheard In New York, Oh No They Didn't, and The Onion.

Spoiler/Spoiler, and so hot. Legilemen!sex.

I have friends whose upstairs neighbors are On. Crack. Case in point -- one should never just randomly throw a head of lettuce off your balcony into their yard. (I can't even type it with a straight face, because it's so very completely the sort of thing that should NEVER HAPPEN. At the time, I recommended finding a wig (the one on that userpic of ljkrissy's might do), a baseball cap, a few nails, a Sharpie to draw two X-marks and a frowny, and plenty of ketchup or red paint, and then returning it... )

From Thursday:
Busted the nice necklace I made for my ID card almost the moment I put it on. The crimping did not withstand me whacking the thing as soon as I sat down. Alas. Got most of the beads back from the floor.

http://www.javascriptkit.com/howto/htaccess.shtml was my current reading for part of this morning. One

http://datasells.com/designsdirectusa/ -- addictive. Not allowed at my workplace on the call floor for the obvious reason.

I'm already ready to shoot the easy website creator tool that the workplace has. I don't think it was designed for bloody effing FireFox. Oh, heck. And I asked the domain forwarding to happen. (I'm playing with two practice websites here: one internal-only links site, and one customer-facing example site. But I set up the 2nd URL to forward to the 1st URL, so I had to tell it to not forward and now I'm waiting for the thing to propagate so I can see it.) (Insert more cursing here.)

Woohoo, it's propagated! (It has my last name and employer in it, so I don't think I'll be linking it publicly, but I'm having fun with it.)


From today (longer):

Breakfast this morning: applesauce and tea. Heather makes tea strong enough that it tastes like sweaty socks smell if it's not diluted. (I don't know how sweaty socks taste. Never tried 'em.)

The rule is "Show, don't tell." Except sometimes telling tedious things in too much detail, and telling some things out of sequence becomes telling. See, hcolleen is a sly one, and has shoehorned herself a captive beta for her commute to and from work.

Suggested training tool: a sockpuppet of the company mascot. It could work!

A background in art helps more than most people know whenever you're dealing with visually presenting something or other. I made the poster for today's group presentation, just as I made it for yesterday's. My handwriting is hardly perfect, but it's a lot better than the handwriting of some of the other people around (the other day, people in my group complimented me on my handwriting), and it's readable. I know about color and balance and all sorts of fun artistic techniques, so my efforts are going to automatically incorporate those things and look a lot better than the efforts of people without a comparable background.

In a discussion of sales, one of the guys used the "ASSUME" thing. Except -- "If you don't ASSUME the sale, well, you know what that makes out of U and ME." Um. Isn't that backwards from the usual? *facepalm*


And then some things stripped out of IM:

We were coming up with really cracktastic analogies for domain names, hosting, and websites.
Heather threatened to leave if I went any further on my "A complete hosting package is like a box of chocolates" analogy.
See, the hosting is like the box.
The website content is like the chocolates.
And the domain name? That's Valentine's Day.
She walked out right before chocolates.


http://www.geocities.com/darthmaligna/harrypotter2.html, via samurai_ko (no spoilers for anything current)
Gone away, gone ahead,
Echoes roll unanswered.
Empty, open, dusty, dead.
Why have all the Weyrfolk fled?

Where have dragons gone together
Leaving weyrs to wind and weather,
Setting herdbeasts free of tether;
Gone, our safeguards, gone, but whither?

Have they flown to some new weyr
Where cruel Threads some others fear?
Are they worlds away from here?
Why, oh why the empty weyr?

-- "The Question Song", Anne McCaffrey
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