Went for a walk with my aunt yesterday, down on Rockaway Beach and its environs. Mostly its environs. As I was gathering myself together to head out the door, and waiting for my aunt's call so I wouldn't be standing out there too long, tiferet called, advising me about a computer tool run with teshiron and jd. However, I was already on my way out, so I advised that yes, I could in fact look up bus schedules from home at need. Then my aunt called, and soon we were on our way.
My aunt had forgotten the purple harness for the poodle, so his leash was clipped to his jaguar-spotted collar. (He is a remarkably sensible dog despite the poncy collar.)
The poodle does not hump indiscriminately, for the record. He humps Deacon. Deacon tries to hump him, but is even less allowed to, as he is getting to be a creaky old dog, and ought not to either hump or be humped. They also have mutual dicklicking. The poodle does not hump other dogs (often), or objects, or people. Just (mostly) Deacon. (There was no humping on this trip.)
The fog was in thick enough that we could just barely see the waves breaking and the rocks surrounding the beach, and one intrepid surfer out in the ocean, the torso of a dark-wetsuited ghost in the fog.
I had brought my cane, and was glad of it, as I was stiff. Deacon has recovered from his most recent bout of stiffness after a few rounds with the Metacam again, and all is well. We set off into the tourist village and proceeded down in the direction of the water. I noticed the lovely waves-of-broken-glass-in-different-color
There were little puddles of water on the terrace by the rail, and a sign warned about waves breaking over the rail. I noticed the high-tide line and rusted drain grates and access hole covers. There was a strand of seaweed fetchingly draped near one drain. We wandered along the walk chattering.
We reached the end of the sidewalk, and I noticed that this was the parking lot at the other end of the quarry walk. We walked back through the buildings, some of which were actual houses for actual people, and the dogs exchanged barks with a smaller, yelpier dog inside a fence, and peed on the grass on his corner. The poodle slipped his collar. My aunt nabbed him and re-collared him, then tightened the collar so he couldn't escape -- she does not like to leave it that tight as he has a soft trachea and it should not be irritated, but running away is not good either. She told him she'd loosen it after the walk, and we continued. She'd had the bright idea that we could return the dogs to the car and have dinner, but the place she had in mind was closed. Alas. So we continued back to the car and headed back home.
On the way back, my phone rang again, with intelligence that there was now an IHOP run. I collected myself at home, confirmed the location, and set out, dismissing the message from the Whispering that bringing my netbook would be a good plan. I arrived first; the rest of the party walked up somewhat damp but triumphant after a Krispy Kreme stop. Genial activities continued to commence within iHop, with much accent-geeking and chatter about regional variations, and also discussion about people on Twitter who introduce themselves via gay porn. (Not that gay porn is a bad thing, but it makes a singular first impression. "Hi my good sir; would you care to try some porn today?" I suppose face to face they call this cruising?)
Post-dinner, entertainments in the form of a lot of screwing commenced at the Teshypants/JD household. Specifically, JD's macbook is not charging, although it still takes mains power. This is a source of much fucking frustration, and taking apart a fucking macbook is not recommended for the amateur. (JD relates from the "geniuses" that in fact some of the screws are decorative, and they're all different lengths.) (Oh hey, JD, if you had florist foam on hand, paper with drawn diagram, on top of the foam, push the screws in so they stay.) Having ignored the Whispering, I was without my netbook, but this crowd is always good for entertaining discourse. There are plans involving a Greek food festival and Folsom Street Fair, and possibly also RHPS.
The final screw proved difficult. It was tiny, in a poor location without enough room to put the big screwdriver in it straight, the little screwdriver that was potentially its size was bent and did not work in it, and all four of us tried with a succession of different screwdrivers and tips, with increasing lack of luck. I eventually took the pliers to the bent screwdriver and bent it further, so its handle was at a 90° angle from the tip, to provide leverage, but still no luck. Universally, either we could not get a grasp on the head with the driver, the driver was the wrong size, or we were not able to get it to turn when we did. tiferet had some screwdrivers of better size, and it was proceeding in a bedtime-like direction in any case.
JD accompanied us, and ran in with her for the screwdrivers (and also, as it transpired, to be the Tall One swapping out a lightbulb). I dropped him back off and went home.
Upon connecting to the internet again, I discovered that LJ had exploded due to an exploit of scripting in Flash, and Flash content was at that time temporarily disabled, and there was a whole lot of security-minded IRC chatter. There is a news post up. It looks to have been an email address harvester with a side effect of UNLOCKING RECENT/TOP ENTRIES, presumably to make it spread more easily. The security flaw has been patched, but if you are in the habit of making locked posts and were reading LJ yesterday, please check the news post and your recent posts to make sure you're OK.
Tonight looks like Borderlands. :D :D :D