June 2011
28 posts
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"Fuck you. Pay me."*
I hate the notion of “donationware.”
If you’re a developer, you either: a) believe that your app will have value to users and therefore you should ask a fair price for it in the marketplace, or, b) you’ve built your app for fun or for your own personal use and then decided to throw it in the public domain for use without expectation of compensation.
That whole squishy...
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indefensible asked: Yeah, you fucking BETTER watch it, fucko. My wrath is FIGHT.
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Truthful Tuesday: Weltschmerz edition
So. Very. Weary.
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WatchI died.
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Whoa.
So it turns out that I was somehow able to wrangle myself a pitch meeting this Friday.
Which is quite surprising, considering how it takes a wall of style guides and a legion of editors to mold even the shortest pieces of my writing into something only marginally less repulsive than Vogon poetry.
Wish me luck, if you’ve got any to spare.
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I am enjoying my newfound power of invisibility.
It struck me just moments ago, as I was reflecting on how strangely productive I’ve been today, that no one has wanted or needed anything from me in more than a week.
I reeled.
I quickly skimmed all of my recent email, text messages, DMs. Nothing. In the last eight days, not one person has thrown me a “Hey, can you do ____ for me?” or a “When you get a sec could you help...
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“Snakes. Why’d it have to be snakes?”
– Cardinal Richelieu, 1637
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Corpunculary
That is your made-up word for today. Use it often.
You’re welcome.
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“Rah, rah, ah, ah, ah
Roma, roma, ma
Gaga, ooh, la, la
Want your bad romance”
– Pliny the Elder, 79 A.D.
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Wherein I officially endorse a product
For the last two weeks I’ve had a constant cough. It started as a dry cough, turned into a wet cough, then back into a dry cough, then into a tubercular cough, then into a bubonic cough, then down into the current state of annoying bronchitis cough. But I’m still spending the majority of my hours coughing to the point of vomitismic spasm and near rib-breakery.
No brand of cough remedy...
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So apparently I'm being sued! Thanks, Friday!
My already strong support for tort reform has just increased by an order of magnitude.
Also, send cash plsthx.
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Chapter five
Vigenère ciphers. Blood in the sand. The bishop has a collection of secret things. Teeth are bared, literally and figuratively. No one lives forever (or do they?). Urges are fought.
Someone goes missing.
Someone pulls a Lazarus.
And nothing is as it seems.
[ previously ]
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For much of my youth I thought Johnny Cash was...
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