...just in case you're slowpoke.
Saturday, February 26, 2011
Wednesday, February 23, 2011
Dear Reader: (engrish pun lemix)
I'm tired as fuck. I promise I'll catch up on your blogs.
Love, the stupid fucking blogger with the stupid fucking blog on blogging is fucking stupid.
Yes. There is a lot of stupid and a lot of fucking in the last sentence. Not so much blogging. Your herring, I make red.
Love, the stupid fucking blogger with the stupid fucking blog on blogging is fucking stupid.
Yes. There is a lot of stupid and a lot of fucking in the last sentence. Not so much blogging. Your herring, I make red.
Tuesday, February 22, 2011
A Marijuana Nightmare. And Haggar.
I awoke just now. My heart was racing. Easily 200bpm, adrenaline-fueled.
My friend smokes pot often. I? Rarely. I'm a boozer.
So, we're walking around, near sub-terranean tunnels in this vast iceland hellhole of Indiana. We're on campus, but it's still the conservative home of the KKK. Anyway.
There's two smokables in rotation: a big blunt on a toothpick, kind of like the way you see those samples of sausage at the grocery. The other is your standard joint. Both merrily burning away, I reluctantly pick the blunt. Simply because it looks cool as hell and I've never smoked anything in that quantity before. (The backstory, I'm a lightweight with the chronic. That's why I don't smoke often. I'm completely useless after 3-4 hits)
I grab the toothpick and lightly pull the air with my lips not even touching. I'm usually a 2-hit wonder, and a 3-hit K.O. when it comes to this, hence my very small pull. To balance, I take a mouthful of whiskey and pass them off to the friend. My friend pulls hard while offering me the roach. I pass. So now they're two-fisting the blunt and the roach. I wield my ethanol bottle of glory.
We aimlessly walk. I see many faces. I can tell that they are faces of contempt behind their false smiles. They are smiles, but none want to come near and talk. They all pull away when we romp near. This isn't good, but as long as they don't call the cops, I don't care. I can't afford to be caught right now, I'm still technically on probation after being slapped with a public intoxication (which is a bullshit charge. What, I can't be a drunk pedestrian? I can't be a drunk driver? Then what? Sit in the bar until 8am? That can't happen either. Thank you, I'm glad that my tax dollars are funding your donut-fueled small-penis rage against people out walking around drunk instead of mowing stuff down in a car. Fucking cops.)
Anyway, I'm looking for some sign of friendliness besides these smiles made of 100% feces. None. I try and subtly tell my friend we should go elsewhere. They pick up on it. We exit the labyrinth of underground hallways and whatnot to the open road and air around campus. I immediately go find somewhere to sit while remaining hidden, that way if I do decide to pass out, I'll remain hidden while still able to see around me and whatnot.
I end up going to the middle portion of a subdivided road with a raised hill in between the traffic going one way and the traffic going another. There is a large and fancy set of dividers that the snow has piled up to about 10 or so feet high. I go over to the hill and start digging near a pine tree and then sit in the dugout while I occasionally peek out to see if anyone noticed me.
I start to get sleepy, so I fully wrap my trench coat around me while I pull my hoodie down (yes, I'm wearing three layers) the warmth really starts to tug my eyelids shut. Suddenly I hear a sing-shouting sound. I look in the direction of the noise. It's coming from the entrance of the subterranean tunnels. I can barely make out the scene. It's my friend with both middle fingers in the air, doing a mock dance. "Come and get me, fuckers", she seems to say. She then starts running. I whistle and motion my arm in the air. Maybe we can both hide in the pit till whatever blows over. She beelines towards me, and surprisingly fast. No go. I can see the lights now flashing red and blue. God fucking damn it. What you do? Fucking shit.
Shit. No time to think, run on instinct. We cross the road, while the cop speeds down one side and pulls a U-ey to come straight back of where we would be if we ran forward. We fall back and turn left. Cop speeds down and pulls another U-Turn at the other end of the street. We double back again, this time turning right. Cop tries to stop, but ends up sliding down the street. Halfway through the slide, the cop guns it and then goes back to the place where they did the first U-Turn. This time we run forward. Pull the enemy to you and fight them on your own terms. We're almost home-free. All we have to do is hop the median and dash past the park. FFFFFFFUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUuuuuuuuuuuuu......... Captain Ragecop's cruiser appears off to our side, going down a set of wide stairs. My friend slips and I grab the neck of her coat and pull her up so we can try and jump the median. I see the cop's window was open, and I hear them calling for backup.
I wake up at this point, face-down in my pillow, with my heart racing and my tired eyes throbbing.
As much as I hate dealing with pigs and the law, I'd say this is the best/worst dream in a long time. There was a lot of primal fear, but there was also the fun factor of psyching out the cops. 9.1/10
Also, I want to see more youtube videos of Haggar combos. After doing a few training missions and playing around, I can definitely see him being devastating. But everyone wants to play with Wesker, Dante, and Sentinel... like pussies.
Welp, I think the adrenaline burst is catching up to me. I'm back to feeling exhausted. Back to nappy time. We have high executives coming from the corporate office coming to visit tomorrow. I suppose I should look good, even though I'm making minimum wage. Good thing I have auto-defenses that make me laugh when I rage. Such a shitty job and a huge joke. But I'd lol hard at the person in my position, if I wasn't me.
Don't worry. There'll be plenty of time to drink myself back into oblivion, come Friday. /lesigh
My friend smokes pot often. I? Rarely. I'm a boozer.
So, we're walking around, near sub-terranean tunnels in this vast iceland hellhole of Indiana. We're on campus, but it's still the conservative home of the KKK. Anyway.
There's two smokables in rotation: a big blunt on a toothpick, kind of like the way you see those samples of sausage at the grocery. The other is your standard joint. Both merrily burning away, I reluctantly pick the blunt. Simply because it looks cool as hell and I've never smoked anything in that quantity before. (The backstory, I'm a lightweight with the chronic. That's why I don't smoke often. I'm completely useless after 3-4 hits)
I grab the toothpick and lightly pull the air with my lips not even touching. I'm usually a 2-hit wonder, and a 3-hit K.O. when it comes to this, hence my very small pull. To balance, I take a mouthful of whiskey and pass them off to the friend. My friend pulls hard while offering me the roach. I pass. So now they're two-fisting the blunt and the roach. I wield my ethanol bottle of glory.
We aimlessly walk. I see many faces. I can tell that they are faces of contempt behind their false smiles. They are smiles, but none want to come near and talk. They all pull away when we romp near. This isn't good, but as long as they don't call the cops, I don't care. I can't afford to be caught right now, I'm still technically on probation after being slapped with a public intoxication (which is a bullshit charge. What, I can't be a drunk pedestrian? I can't be a drunk driver? Then what? Sit in the bar until 8am? That can't happen either. Thank you, I'm glad that my tax dollars are funding your donut-fueled small-penis rage against people out walking around drunk instead of mowing stuff down in a car. Fucking cops.)
Anyway, I'm looking for some sign of friendliness besides these smiles made of 100% feces. None. I try and subtly tell my friend we should go elsewhere. They pick up on it. We exit the labyrinth of underground hallways and whatnot to the open road and air around campus. I immediately go find somewhere to sit while remaining hidden, that way if I do decide to pass out, I'll remain hidden while still able to see around me and whatnot.
I end up going to the middle portion of a subdivided road with a raised hill in between the traffic going one way and the traffic going another. There is a large and fancy set of dividers that the snow has piled up to about 10 or so feet high. I go over to the hill and start digging near a pine tree and then sit in the dugout while I occasionally peek out to see if anyone noticed me.
I start to get sleepy, so I fully wrap my trench coat around me while I pull my hoodie down (yes, I'm wearing three layers) the warmth really starts to tug my eyelids shut. Suddenly I hear a sing-shouting sound. I look in the direction of the noise. It's coming from the entrance of the subterranean tunnels. I can barely make out the scene. It's my friend with both middle fingers in the air, doing a mock dance. "Come and get me, fuckers", she seems to say. She then starts running. I whistle and motion my arm in the air. Maybe we can both hide in the pit till whatever blows over. She beelines towards me, and surprisingly fast. No go. I can see the lights now flashing red and blue. God fucking damn it. What you do? Fucking shit.
Shit. No time to think, run on instinct. We cross the road, while the cop speeds down one side and pulls a U-ey to come straight back of where we would be if we ran forward. We fall back and turn left. Cop speeds down and pulls another U-Turn at the other end of the street. We double back again, this time turning right. Cop tries to stop, but ends up sliding down the street. Halfway through the slide, the cop guns it and then goes back to the place where they did the first U-Turn. This time we run forward. Pull the enemy to you and fight them on your own terms. We're almost home-free. All we have to do is hop the median and dash past the park. FFFFFFFUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUuuuuuuuuuuuu......... Captain Ragecop's cruiser appears off to our side, going down a set of wide stairs. My friend slips and I grab the neck of her coat and pull her up so we can try and jump the median. I see the cop's window was open, and I hear them calling for backup.
I wake up at this point, face-down in my pillow, with my heart racing and my tired eyes throbbing.
As much as I hate dealing with pigs and the law, I'd say this is the best/worst dream in a long time. There was a lot of primal fear, but there was also the fun factor of psyching out the cops. 9.1/10
Also, I want to see more youtube videos of Haggar combos. After doing a few training missions and playing around, I can definitely see him being devastating. But everyone wants to play with Wesker, Dante, and Sentinel... like pussies.
Welp, I think the adrenaline burst is catching up to me. I'm back to feeling exhausted. Back to nappy time. We have high executives coming from the corporate office coming to visit tomorrow. I suppose I should look good, even though I'm making minimum wage. Good thing I have auto-defenses that make me laugh when I rage. Such a shitty job and a huge joke. But I'd lol hard at the person in my position, if I wasn't me.
Don't worry. There'll be plenty of time to drink myself back into oblivion, come Friday. /lesigh
The rule of thumb...
...is 1"/1'. For me, anyway. Basically, it's the parallax between your eyes, using the thumb as a focal point. How much the object jumps between closing my right eye to my left eye translates to how far away an object is. It's actually kinda accurate. I've tested it at 10ft, 30ft, and 100ft. It's quick and easy, too.
Thursday, February 17, 2011
Cortex A9, Stuxnet, HBGary & AnonOps, MOO I/II Etc.
Sup fuckers. When I'm not getting wasted or selling overpriced garbage (read: AT&T), I'm on mah lappy. Now, you'd figure that I'd stop to communicate all these interesting ideas I have with you, but you're wrong.
I recently found Master of Orion 1 and 2 again. And boy, howdy. I had to call in sick just to play the entire damn day. I, in fact, did not use the internet at all that day. Just me, DOSBox, and a bottle of vodka. I even forgot to masturbate. Or get cigarettes. Or smoke the cigarettes I would've gotten, had I gotten them.
Yes sir, I should've been downloading my TV episodes like a good little robot, but I was too busy doing the time warp and actually enjoying myself and my time as a living being. And now, fun times are over. Back to the mundane diarrhea that is day-to-day. Mind you, I have fun things to watch, and lots of awesome news to read (I lol'd hard at HBGary getting deepdick assfucked by anon after they came up with some bullshit garbage saying they "found the leader of anon". I know, right? lolwut.) And man, that dual-core Cortex is fucking hot shit.
Ah, I never have enough time for the fun, while I have too much time for the suck. FML, FYL, and thank science for booze.
Thursday, February 10, 2011
Non-nightmare dream. Awesome.
The main point in the dream was how thing were remembered. I overheard that a big event was 40 campfires ago. A really big event was 48 pretty flowers ago. As this was told to me, I visually (in my dream) had a faded overlay of time running backwards, as we walked on the arid land (think New Mexico) past brush and... oh a pretty flower on a cactus. 48 of those ago? Boggles the mind. And then both the alarms went off and I was up. Ok I gotta go catch mah ride.
Ah, college. The boozan', videogaman', alonan' foreveran'.
Sometimes I tell myself that it's better in the present and possibly the future. My naive self was so carefree back then... so stupid.
my favorite rpg to play on the verge of blackout
ok. i'm outta control. really, though, i dunno where i'm going with this at all. so it's time to stop posting.
Wednesday, February 9, 2011
...insomnia, data compression, and spinach proteins.
So, yeah. Tired all day. Finally come home and crash around 2000. Wake up at 0030. I guess that's what happens when you treat your body like a temple... a temple to the god of trash, that is.
So, I saw some pretty screenshots of a h-gore game. It's been quite a few years since I have played one, as I am busy cramming garbage into my head, garbage into my lungs, and garbage into my stomach. So, I checked the 2-part .rars and then unrar'd them to a directory (I use 7z which is broad-encompassing etc). After getting Daemon Tools Lite (and having AVG pop up telling me that a component was malware categorized as a downloader... and i thusly removed that part w/o changing functionality of DTL as far as i can tell) and installing the game, I figured that I might zip it up and keep an archive in case it was a good game.
So, I right click on the game and the English patch and add them to a 7z archive. There are lots of options to choose from (although the main ones are LZMA, LZMA2, and PPMd), and, of course, I have not a goddamn clue which to choose. Wiki'd.
I never seem to leave Wiki without visiting at least an additional reference page. Today was no exception, as I read about ZPAQ compression and BARF.
See Comparison of file archivers for a list of file compression benchmarks.
I was impressed, so I am giving it a try. Please note, however, the compression time is large. FUCKING HUGE OH DEAR GOD FUCK
P.S.: 64649 seconds = 17.96 hours
Plenty of time leads to the inquisitive mind's inquisition. You now have that song stuck in your head.
So, I saw some pretty screenshots of a h-gore game. It's been quite a few years since I have played one, as I am busy cramming garbage into my head, garbage into my lungs, and garbage into my stomach. So, I checked the 2-part .rars and then unrar'd them to a directory (I use 7z which is broad-encompassing etc). After getting Daemon Tools Lite (and having AVG pop up telling me that a component was malware categorized as a downloader... and i thusly removed that part w/o changing functionality of DTL as far as i can tell) and installing the game, I figured that I might zip it up and keep an archive in case it was a good game.
So, I right click on the game and the English patch and add them to a 7z archive. There are lots of options to choose from (although the main ones are LZMA, LZMA2, and PPMd), and, of course, I have not a goddamn clue which to choose. Wiki'd.
I never seem to leave Wiki without visiting at least an additional reference page. Today was no exception, as I read about ZPAQ compression and BARF.
Comparison
The following table is a sample from the Large Text Compression Benchmark by Matt Mahoney that consists of a file consisting of 109 bytes (1GB or 0.931GiB) of Wikipedia English text.| Program | Compressed size (bytes) | % of original size | Compression time | Memory |
|---|---|---|---|---|
| PAQ8HP8 | 133,423,109 | 13.34 | 64 639 sec. | 1849 MiB |
| PPMd | 183,976,014 | 18.4 | 880 sec. | 256 MiB |
| bzip2 | 254,007,875 | 25.4 | 379 sec. | 8 MiB |
| InfoZIP | 322,649,703 | 32.26 | 104 sec. | 0.1 MiB |
I was impressed, so I am giving it a try. Please note, however, the compression time is
P.S.: 64649 seconds = 17.96 hours
Plenty of time leads to the inquisitive mind's inquisition. You now have that song stuck in your head.
Tuesday, February 8, 2011
I like being me. Sometimes.
Q: How do you know when you're awesome?
A: When you are just getting over a nasty cold and have only slept 2 hours... you go over to your friend's house and finish off their handle of Jim Beam and then proceed to drink an entire bottle of vodka over the course of the night. Then you have no idea how you got home, but you wake up and go to work and make the first sale out of your entire group and bank on some commission, yet have not a single dollar in your hand. And then you blog about it like a total winner.
I'm awesome. FML. Gettin' paiiiiiiiiiiid.
Nah, it's actually not that bad though. Plenty of regrets. I'd probably have more, too, if I actually gave a fuck. FUCK ITTTTTTTTTTT
On a more positive note: AIDS.
HIV is a joke. Didja getit?
Durrr. I think I just made two AIDS jokes. Ok, now you can officially FML.
<3
<:3
<::3
<:::3
<::::3
I forgot where I was going with this. heart = small paynis
sigh
ok i really need to stop
A: When you are just getting over a nasty cold and have only slept 2 hours... you go over to your friend's house and finish off their handle of Jim Beam and then proceed to drink an entire bottle of vodka over the course of the night. Then you have no idea how you got home, but you wake up and go to work and make the first sale out of your entire group and bank on some commission, yet have not a single dollar in your hand. And then you blog about it like a total winner.
I'm awesome. FML. Gettin' paiiiiiiiiiiid.
Nah, it's actually not that bad though. Plenty of regrets. I'd probably have more, too, if I actually gave a fuck. FUCK ITTTTTTTTTTT
On a more positive note: AIDS.
HIV is a joke. Didja getit?
Durrr. I think I just made two AIDS jokes. Ok, now you can officially FML.
<3
<:3
<::3
<:::3
<::::3
I forgot where I was going with this. heart = small paynis
sigh
ok i really need to stop
Monday, February 7, 2011
Don't hate me. Jane Time started it.
Do you remember 1986? Of course you don't. I only vaguely remember it as some time after learning to play Gateway to Apshai and watching The Challenger explode in 1st grade. Now that we've mildly affirmed my oldfaggyness, let's go a step further. Hopefully the awesomeness will bridge generation gaps? Can't hurt, anyway.
If you are unsatisfied AND have already gone and fucked yourself, you may blame Jane Time. She's the one that suited me up and sent me all nostalgia'd down that OH SHIT KIDD VIDEO, HEATHCLIFF, CBS STORY BREAK, TEEN WOLF AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA GOD DAMN IT JANE
If you are unsatisfied AND have already gone and fucked yourself, you may blame Jane Time. She's the one that suited me up and sent me all nostalgia'd down that OH SHIT KIDD VIDEO, HEATHCLIFF, CBS STORY BREAK, TEEN WOLF AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA GOD DAMN IT JANE
Ah. A while ago, on /f/ -> lum_snow -> [Tycho]Systems.
Also, if you're the owner of servut, thank you! (Jos olet omistaja servut, kiitän teitä erittäin paljon! Myös pahoillani hotlink xD...)
Sunday, February 6, 2011
Lol, I bought methamphetamine from Walmart for the low, low price of $3.85
Vicks Vapor Inhaler. Active ingredient: levmetamfetamine.
I read it out loud and was like lolwut.
well. i don't have a running, bloody nose any more. nor a sore throat. but i can't fall asleep, either. :/
I read it out loud and was like lolwut.
Wiki'd:
Levomethamphetamine (other names include l-methamphetamine, levodesoxyephedrine, l-desoxyephedrine, levmetamfetamine), is the levorotary (R-isomer) of methamphetamine. Levomethamphetamine is a sympathomimetic vasoconstrictor which is the active ingredient used in some over-the-counter nasal decongestants including Vicks Vapor Inhaler.
Chemistry
Levomethamphetamine affects the sympathetic nervous system but has little activity in the central nervous system, so it is not thought to possess an addiction potential anywhere near that of racemic methamphetamine or dextromethamphetamine. Among its few physiological effects are the vasoconstriction that makes it useful for nasal decongestion.[1]Side effects
When used as a nasal decongestant, levomethamphetamine has potential side effects resembling those of other sympathomimetic drugs used for the same purpose; these effects include hypertension (elevated blood pressure), tachycardia (rapid heart rate), nausea, stomach cramps, dizziness, headache, and tremors.well. i don't have a running, bloody nose any more. nor a sore throat. but i can't fall asleep, either. :/
Saturday, February 5, 2011
Sore Throat? Triscuits!
Holy crap, Triscuits are soooo good for mah sore throat. Menthol cough drops + water = I can breathe!
Also, don't use Vaseline. Use proper lubrication. Unless you're all about bareback. Have fun makin' dem babies! xD
Also, don't use Vaseline. Use proper lubrication. Unless you're all about bareback. Have fun makin' dem babies! xD
Friday, February 4, 2011
lololol nosebleeds
you know what is awesome? failing to hold a sneeze that causes your nose to spray blood and mucus. as an added bonus, your headache temporarily goes away too. what sucks is getting it stopped so you can actually go in to work. fresh blood looks so much more vibrant than dull, dried blood.
[generic reference to popeye & vitamins]
[generic reference to popeye & vitamins]
Thursday, February 3, 2011
Wednesday, February 2, 2011
Selective Neurostimulation = Ability to squelch or amplify neuroactivity?
http://www.gizmag.com/magnetic-brain-stimulation-makes-learning-easier/17745/
E:\Audio\Royksopp - Senior [2010-MP3-Cov][MJN]\07 - The Fear.mp3
[This page left intentionally blank]
Let's think of the positive and negative, shall we?
Add this to Scopolamine and you have a one-two starter combo going.
Ok. I feel like diarrhea and vertigo. I don't have to fuck you, right? You're an adult now and you can go fuck yourself.
<3 ?
E:\Audio\Royksopp - Senior [2010-MP3-Cov][MJN]\07 - The Fear.mp3
[This page left intentionally blank]
Let's think of the positive and negative, shall we?
- Potential ability to treat certain brain disorders without drugs and/or surgery.
- Potential to increase muscle reflex speed and perhaps change cardiac rhythms.
- I have a head cold, think for your fucking selves, you sheep.
- Fucking up someone's brain with very little/no evidence to show tampering.
Add this to Scopolamine and you have a one-two starter combo going.
Ok. I feel like diarrhea and vertigo. I don't have to fuck you, right? You're an adult now and you can go fuck yourself.
<3 ?
Tuesday, February 1, 2011
Fuck Twitter.
More bloated social networking data mining laggy faggot shit. Lick my hemarrhoids: http://twitter.com/#!/tvvitter_is_gay .
Monday, January 31, 2011
Nightmare (2030-2250)
We drove around the on the highways. The beautiful lavish highways. I was on foot and I had missed my last bus. This was the last bus that went out of town and on to the highway. I watched it come towards me and then turn on to the on-ramp. Fuck it. I have feet. I can walk.
I see a suburban truck not too far, in some sort of large parking lot right before the arteries of the highway flourished opened. This was like some sort of long-term parking for an airport, but there weren't planes around. The suburban's window was open. It's the dead of winter and here is this kush looking truck with its window open. I have to go look.
I walk around the truck twice. Trying to be inconspicuous but failing miserably. Someone starts coming towards me. Bryce? This is your truck?! Man, I haven't seen this guy in years. It is his truck. Maybe. We drive it around. This is no ordinary truck. It's fucking HUGE.
We pass people by driving over them. Over them without crushing them, that is. This truck can comfortably drive over a smaller truck without even touching it. We drive around.
After a while, Bryce gets out. Jeff gets in. We decide it would be hilarious to drive against oncoming traffic. Shit, I see cop lights coming at us. We stop in the middle of the highway. So does everyone else. Jeff opens the tailgate and sits on the back, waiting rather impatiently for the cops to come hassle the shit out of us. I as well. The cops get out and move fast towards us. They seem calm... a little too calm.
We sit there and listen to a mute speech. Then men with suits and ties appear. Shortly after, men with white coats and needles. Our arms are grabbed and I feel the needle's prick as it jams into my skin. I then feel a freezing cold sensation, then a burning hot sensation in my arm. After that I just have blurred vision and a general pain. I look at the needles they used for injection. They were glowing a beautiful dark cyan. Radioactive.
I can't stop laughing. They have a paper with our names on it. We're still in the middle of the highway, fucked up something fierce, and these motherfuckers are quizzing us.
I get another injection and things start to clear up. I want to see how well I did. I want to see my score.
Wait, these papers, I'm supposed to sign... where's my score? I saw the list of scores on this exact sheet of paper!... These must be... new... wait. How long have I blacked out?...
I try hard and focus on what I can remember. The soft-hued and fierce cyan needles. Not unlike the orange of the crossbow's rebar in Half-Life 2. The image of the needles are fiercely embedded in my mind, along with the buzzing sounds and fuzzy feeling in my body. I need to stay calm as to not rouse suspicion...
...on the other hand, I need to look for an immediate way out. I feel another prick
And I wake up and grab my laptop. Charging. Bootloader (grub) selection. Name and password login. Auto-auth on WiFi. Firefox. Name and password login. Type this shit... then hit [Enter].
I see a suburban truck not too far, in some sort of large parking lot right before the arteries of the highway flourished opened. This was like some sort of long-term parking for an airport, but there weren't planes around. The suburban's window was open. It's the dead of winter and here is this kush looking truck with its window open. I have to go look.
I walk around the truck twice. Trying to be inconspicuous but failing miserably. Someone starts coming towards me. Bryce? This is your truck?! Man, I haven't seen this guy in years. It is his truck. Maybe. We drive it around. This is no ordinary truck. It's fucking HUGE.
We pass people by driving over them. Over them without crushing them, that is. This truck can comfortably drive over a smaller truck without even touching it. We drive around.
After a while, Bryce gets out. Jeff gets in. We decide it would be hilarious to drive against oncoming traffic. Shit, I see cop lights coming at us. We stop in the middle of the highway. So does everyone else. Jeff opens the tailgate and sits on the back, waiting rather impatiently for the cops to come hassle the shit out of us. I as well. The cops get out and move fast towards us. They seem calm... a little too calm.
We sit there and listen to a mute speech. Then men with suits and ties appear. Shortly after, men with white coats and needles. Our arms are grabbed and I feel the needle's prick as it jams into my skin. I then feel a freezing cold sensation, then a burning hot sensation in my arm. After that I just have blurred vision and a general pain. I look at the needles they used for injection. They were glowing a beautiful dark cyan. Radioactive.
I can't stop laughing. They have a paper with our names on it. We're still in the middle of the highway, fucked up something fierce, and these motherfuckers are quizzing us.
I get another injection and things start to clear up. I want to see how well I did. I want to see my score.
Wait, these papers, I'm supposed to sign... where's my score? I saw the list of scores on this exact sheet of paper!... These must be... new... wait. How long have I blacked out?...
I try hard and focus on what I can remember. The soft-hued and fierce cyan needles. Not unlike the orange of the crossbow's rebar in Half-Life 2. The image of the needles are fiercely embedded in my mind, along with the buzzing sounds and fuzzy feeling in my body. I need to stay calm as to not rouse suspicion...
...on the other hand, I need to look for an immediate way out. I feel another prick
And I wake up and grab my laptop. Charging. Bootloader (grub) selection. Name and password login. Auto-auth on WiFi. Firefox. Name and password login. Type this shit... then hit [Enter].
YOU FUCKS READY FOR SNOW?q!!1/
Gosh, that shift+[key] then anti-shift+[key] is so old. Good thing I'm a lame piece of shit. Anywho, fuck you. And the shit you rode in on. Seriously. Sucky days ahead. Bad times.
Sierra Tango, Doing the Tango Sierra
Goonies, man. Fuckin' Goonies.
Yeah, I know right? Truffle Shuffle!
Again, in accordance to last week's standard procedure, I have only slept two hours.
At least I have finally formatted mah lappy and brought back the happy dualistic union of rinex and windildoes. Not strong enough for a virtualization. But gentle enough for native execution. My laptop is a fuckin' Kotex commercial. Aieeeieeeeieeeeeeee... (generic TAOC reference. R.I.P. 2k3 TMOLOLOL)
Where the fuck was I going with this?
...
...
...
...
ah, yes. Rainymood + Black Coffee. So easy:
"Play Alarm.bat":
For those of you playing along at home and are lost, just relax. Wherever you may be.
Have a good one. Smoke me a kipper, I'll be back before yadda yadda.
(I suppose the next logical step would be to write a corresponding bash script or something... I'm so fucking lazy, therefore, fuck it.)
Yeah, I know right? Truffle Shuffle!
Again, in accordance to last week's standard procedure, I have only slept two hours.
At least I have finally formatted mah lappy and brought back the happy dualistic union of rinex and windildoes. Not strong enough for a virtualization. But gentle enough for native execution. My laptop is a fuckin' Kotex commercial. Aieeeieeeeieeeeeeee... (generic TAOC reference. R.I.P. 2k3 TMOLOLOL)
Where the fuck was I going with this?
...
...
...
...
ah, yes. Rainymood + Black Coffee. So easy:
"Play Alarm.bat":
"C:\Program Files\nircmd\nircmd.exe" mutesysvolume 0And set that up under Task Scheduler (mmc snapin) to wake laptop and run with regular permissions. You now have a big alarm clock. And if you have Google voice, a cellular alarm clock.
"C:\Program Files\nircmd\nircmd.exe" setsysvolume 65535
"C:\Program Files\Winamp\Winamp.exe" "E:\Audio\The Fragrance of Dark Coffee vs RainyMood.com.mp3
For those of you playing along at home and are lost, just relax. Wherever you may be.
Have a good one. Smoke me a kipper, I'll be back before yadda yadda.
(I suppose the next logical step would be to write a corresponding bash script or something... I'm so fucking lazy, therefore, fuck it.)
Sunday, January 30, 2011
BALLSACKS AND VAMPIRES, DAWG
Back at this shit again. HAVING A BAD CASE OF THE MONDAYS
please, dicks go everywhere
please
please, dicks go everywhere
please
A nation without boundaries.
An idea that is seeded logically and perpetuated to a large portion of the population that can remain dormant. One day it triggers a mass migration/exodus. Where would these millions or billions of people go? They simply cannot invade a country and settle there. However, they can socially network with each other and coordinate movements and tactics.
If it were free, as internet proper, this is what social groups and dynamics would be. Facebook is an example of greed and how such groups fall apart. Many may still be unaware or simply not care, but that's the basics. I cannot predict specific times, but it will happen. So: Get in, make your money, and leave to something else.
Doesn't sound too far-fetched from a corporate bubble that generates waves and the bursts, amirite?
Well. Don't tell me I didn't warn you.
Don't worry. I'll take a shit on my blog later. I'm just constipated at the moment.
If it were free, as internet proper, this is what social groups and dynamics would be. Facebook is an example of greed and how such groups fall apart. Many may still be unaware or simply not care, but that's the basics. I cannot predict specific times, but it will happen. So: Get in, make your money, and leave to something else.
Doesn't sound too far-fetched from a corporate bubble that generates waves and the bursts, amirite?
Well. Don't tell me I didn't warn you.
Don't worry. I'll take a shit on my blog later. I'm just constipated at the moment.
History lesson.
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=wdNHS8b9C7I
vs.
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=1z8gCZ7zpsQ
Understandably. hhttp://www.youtube.com/watch?v=z2b-GRPyqhA
You learn nothing. Fuck you, I don't care. Pay me. Now go start a failing business and feed the government! Fukkin' HUNGRY dawg
yeah let's keep those hilarious programs open
you know, the ones that help you get those useless degrees
that help you flip burgers?
i want a goddamn refund
Prostitution 4 LYFE son
vs.
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=1z8gCZ7zpsQ
Understandably. hhttp://www.youtube.com/watch?v=z2b-GRPyqhA
You learn nothing. Fuck you, I don't care. Pay me. Now go start a failing business and feed the government! Fukkin' HUNGRY dawg
yeah let's keep those hilarious programs open
you know, the ones that help you get those useless degrees
that help you flip burgers?
i want a goddamn refund
Prostitution 4 LYFE son
Saturday, January 29, 2011
DAAAAAAAAAAAYYYYYYYYYUUUUUMMMMMMMMM
Crazy commissions where I work at. $375 bonus for meeting quota, average of $20 per item sold. Some dude commission'd like $130, so in addition to minimum wage, he averaged 23.50 an hour. And that was off one sale. DDDDAAAAAAAAAAYYYYYUUUMMMMM
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ynfk7izWNE8
Speaking of sex machines, it's time to check up on my craigslist fuckbuddy. Hey, she may not be pretty, but she's clean and free. Better than my fingers, amirite guise? FML. Wait, am I a lesbian? =_=
Edit: ho, fucking shit. Goddamn awesome. http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=9tfNhL_R_rI
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ynfk7izWNE8
Speaking of sex machines, it's time to check up on my craigslist fuckbuddy. Hey, she may not be pretty, but she's clean and free. Better than my fingers, amirite guise? FML. Wait, am I a lesbian? =_=
Edit: ho, fucking shit. Goddamn awesome. http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=9tfNhL_R_rI
Wednesday, January 26, 2011
Paging Doctor House
My balls are caught in
a barbed wire fence
[chorus]
Paging Doctor Houuuuse
Paging Doctor Houuuse
I raped some child
and lost my license
Paging Doctor Houuuuse
Paging Doctor House
Doctor Condo. Usually misdiagnoses patients and kills them. On very rare occasions he actually correctly diagnoses them and saves them.
He's a giant man-dyke who is constantly raping Cunty. His best friend is Wilman, who practices homeopathic remedies, usually involving feces and semen. His team of retards, Foreskin, 29, Cumwrong, and that one fucking guy whose name nobody can remember.
Doctor Condo
coming this spring
a barbed wire fence
[chorus]
Paging Doctor Houuuuse
Paging Doctor Houuuse
I raped some child
and lost my license
Paging Doctor Houuuuse
Paging Doctor House
Doctor Condo. Usually misdiagnoses patients and kills them. On very rare occasions he actually correctly diagnoses them and saves them.
He's a giant man-dyke who is constantly raping Cunty. His best friend is Wilman, who practices homeopathic remedies, usually involving feces and semen. His team of retards, Foreskin, 29, Cumwrong, and that one fucking guy whose name nobody can remember.
Doctor Condo
coming this spring
Monday, January 24, 2011
work in like 2 hours and wtf did i do all night?...
>Input.passive "BBC 3/3 Drugs: Cocaine"
> I/O: wiki "Blood-brain barrier"
> I/O: wiki "multiple sclerosis"
> Memory.recall "Lorenzo's Oil" | I/O
> I/O: imdb "Lorenzo's Oil" | grep reviews.interesting
> 1-Star review found: "Many years have passed, and there is still no cure for ALD, 13 May 2007"
> more (y/n)?
> y
> [Misfits] Devil Doll
YEAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH
WORK IN 2 HOURS. GOOD THING I TAKE PLEASURE IN HAVING A SHITTY LIFE. >_<
tl;dr:
> I/O: wiki "Blood-brain barrier"
> I/O: wiki "multiple sclerosis"
> Memory.recall "Lorenzo's Oil" | I/O
> I/O: imdb "Lorenzo's Oil" | grep reviews.interesting
> 1-Star review found: "Many years have passed, and there is still no cure for ALD, 13 May 2007"
> more (y/n)?
> y
"Many years have passed, and there is still no cure for ALD. That is the final judgment for this movie… all hype.> feelsbadman
Hollywood gives a free pass to this type of crap that raises parents hopes but is false science. It's very easy for Hollywood to lambaste the medical community for ignoring an " orphan disease". In fact, there has been an enormous amount of work on ALD, but no definitive solutions. In fact, recently the family has withdrawn from their own charitable research organization.
It is a bad movie, but worse it exemplifies the popular bias against real science in favor of pseudo-science."
> [Misfits] Devil Doll
YEAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH
WORK IN 2 HOURS. GOOD THING I TAKE PLEASURE IN HAVING A SHITTY LIFE. >_<
tl;dr:
NIGGA, GIVE ME DAT NANOCRYSTAL SHIT
Yay, more announcements on ARM/Racetrack/Photon/Dildo etc. GOOGLE IT YOU LAZY FAGGOT. I DON'T CARE
Yo, you gots to get in on dis RAWR EARF MAGNETS (they do, indeed, fucking work). BULLSHEEIT
General Electrics (GE) is trading technology for raw materials? MAYBE! CONSPIRACY. IT WAS YOU, NIGGA. BUSH KNOCKED DOWN THE TOWERS IT WAS you de
Nah, I was just remembering Immortal Technique. Although, really, I was thinking in a happier place in youtube: Public Enemy and Grandmasta Flash.
Seriously. Those videos make you feel good. Well, maybe if you're over 16, that is.
COMPARE AND CONTRAST TIME
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=6bdr_2IAJWU
VS
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=qw_f1fl7pRU
VS
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Z6L1AIpA8MM
LEADS TO
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=RBA-xi8WuCU
BUT, I DIGRESS.
DON'T CLICK ON THE OTHER LINKS. JUST THIS ONE:
Yo, you gots to get in on dis RAWR EARF MAGNETS (they do, indeed, fucking work). BULLSHEEIT
General Electrics (GE) is trading technology for raw materials? MAYBE! CONSPIRACY. IT WAS YOU, NIGGA. BUSH KNOCKED DOWN THE TOWERS IT WAS you de
Nah, I was just remembering Immortal Technique. Although, really, I was thinking in a happier place in youtube: Public Enemy and Grandmasta Flash.
Seriously. Those videos make you feel good. Well, maybe if you're over 16, that is.
COMPARE AND CONTRAST TIME
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=6bdr_2IAJWU
VS
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=qw_f1fl7pRU
VS
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Z6L1AIpA8MM
LEADS TO
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=RBA-xi8WuCU
BUT, I DIGRESS.
DON'T CLICK ON THE OTHER LINKS. JUST THIS ONE:
Sunday, January 23, 2011
WEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEED
Eh, another documentary, this time from the BBC.
Essentially like the one from CBC earlier.
tl;dr version:
if you're gonna smoke up, and you have schizo/paranoia, make sure there's CBD with your THC. i.e.: non-skunk.
or you can be like me and get drunk and pee on everything. maybe fight a nigga or two. shoo.
I DON'T NEED NO GAWDDAM LIVAH. FUCK DAT
Essentially like the one from CBC earlier.
tl;dr version:
if you're gonna smoke up, and you have schizo/paranoia, make sure there's CBD with your THC. i.e.: non-skunk.
or you can be like me and get drunk and pee on everything. maybe fight a nigga or two. shoo.
I DON'T NEED NO GAWDDAM LIVAH. FUCK DAT
MY INTERBUTTS IS BACK UP. PREPARE FOR HOTGLUE AND DATA INJECTIONS
COMCUNT AND DONGRIZON SERIOUSLY SHIT ON THEIR CUSTOMERS BECAUSE THEY ARE GIANT
eh
can't really think of a word. i mean
"faggot" doesn't cut it in this case
"jewniggerfaggot"??
KIMMOS WHO ARE BEYOND A LEECH TO BALLSACKS AND DIARRHEA ETC. AMEN
NO, REALLY. BUT NOW I HAVE INTERTUBES
SO MY VAS DEFERENS IS FILLED TO THE BRIM WITH JIZZ. IN FACT SOME IS LEAKING OUT. I JUZZED MUH PANTS. AND I'M ON A BOAT.
TODO: FILL FALLOPIAN TUBES WITH OWN DICKJUICE. GIVE SELF HANDJOB WHILE PENIS IS IN VAGEEN BY WAY OF HAND IN ANUS COILED AROUND DICK.
Also, repartition, format, and dropkick shit. All over.
FML
eh
can't really think of a word. i mean
"faggot" doesn't cut it in this case
"jewniggerfaggot"??
KIMMOS WHO ARE BEYOND A LEECH TO BALLSACKS AND DIARRHEA ETC. AMEN
NO, REALLY. BUT NOW I HAVE INTERTUBES
SO MY VAS DEFERENS IS FILLED TO THE BRIM WITH JIZZ. IN FACT SOME IS LEAKING OUT. I JUZZED MUH PANTS. AND I'M ON A BOAT.
TODO: FILL FALLOPIAN TUBES WITH OWN DICKJUICE. GIVE SELF HANDJOB WHILE PENIS IS IN VAGEEN BY WAY OF HAND IN ANUS COILED AROUND DICK.
Also, repartition, format, and dropkick shit. All over.
FML
Saturday, January 22, 2011
OH LOOK I PUT ADSENSE IN MY SHIT
NOW I MUST FIND LIKE A BILLION OTHER COMPANIES AND PLASTER MY PAGE TO MAKE IT 110% AWESOME
Friday, January 21, 2011
These kinds of dreams :: nightmares.
I lay there, tired from my ?4 (i went to sleep at 0400ish) (now its 0800) hour nap.
I tend to forget the dream I had after a while. After certain neural switches go on.
Lest I get lost in words:
Apartment. Outside. Rows of apartments. Streets. Not so much about school. Shops, stores, night time. Apartment. Outside.
...inside, however is a different matter. The upper floors ... in some dreams they are regular living quarters. In some they lavish expanses of mansions. There are trapdoors and secret passageways in between all the floors (the dreams even vary, themselves, as to the types--rustic, old and dusty (dustbunny), facility (the stories of concrete, metal, and men between the ground floor and the nuclear reactor), mansion with trapdoor, upscale new york top-floor, etc.)
Even in one apartment the dustbunny-ish upper floors completely start to dissolve into a street-metal-sewage lattace that becomes very sparse of anything quickly, save the void that you ever fall through, lest you loose your balance or gripping.
No, this dream tonight brought back the memory of those other dreams. Why? How? I don't know. Like a lattice of thoughts that are turned off and kept from normal processes during the waking day (i.e.: janitor / debug mode)... why have they remained today? Why was I not just recalling my freshly-dreamed dream, but also those of years previous?
Anyway, the dream. Swimming pool. Lots of Japanese. Famous ones. Naked. The girls aren't as timid as expected, but they're not acting slutty, either. Just the right amount of social friction. Fucking hottubs. Love 'em.
The butler comes in. Like the one from Fresh Prince. With an "Ask Jeeves" imagined vocal demeanor (like constantly asking if shit's ok, temperature, garbage, shit)
Ok, time to shower off and get dressed. Man, looking at those girls and not getting any. I'm gonna go beat off. But where? These showers have silvered, 1-way mirrors. Fuck. I guess I'll have to go do that elsewhere. Ah, you have brought me an electrical footwarmer that goes in the shower. Thanks, Jeeves.
Even this doesn't make a whole lot of sense in the dream. I keep looking at it and making sure it has the right trip switches and fuses because, hey: water and electricity don't fucking mix. In fact, I go to the swimming pool and see a huge hierarchical splitoff of a hugeass surge protector, underwater, serving smaller surge protectors... also underwater. I unplug the large one (yeah, try this at home = you die = no great loss, kiddies) and find that the 330volt crazy-blade plug isn't going to work. Fuck it.
Well, that was a quick shower. I don't even feel wet... OH GOD WHAT THE FUCK.
DUDE. GET THE FUCK AWAY FROM THAT SPIDER. KICK THE SHIT OUT OF IT. RUN! YEAH, KICK IT OFF RETARD. OH SHIT IT SPLIT INTO A BUNCH OF BABIES. THAT BEACHBALL-SIZED BLACK WIDOW GOT KICKED INTO A BUNCH OF FIST-SIZED BLACK WIDOW SPIDERS. RUN YOU FAGGOT. HEY YOU STUPID FAT FUCK THAT GOES FOR YOU TOO.
I'm yelling as I stay the fucking furthest from those two retards and closest to the door where I can slam it closed and be safe from all that shit. One guy is pretty dumb. The other guy is a fucking vacuum bag full of dust and retard. Jeeves hears the commotion and a look befalls his face: "Great. I don't want to deal with this shit."
"Jeeves," I mouth to him, "911. Now." He quickly walks down the hall (no need to run, paramedics won't make it in time) as the one with half a brain brushes off the huge spiders and moves away. The stupid one, with the fangs of at least 8 different spiders, THE SIZE OF HIS FIST, buried across his legs, back, and neck, is slumped over on the grass.
All of us know, even the half-dimwit, that the guy is dead. There is nothing anyone can do. I try and think of something, but instead I wake up.
I kinda want to go back to sleep now.
I tend to forget the dream I had after a while. After certain neural switches go on.
Lest I get lost in words:
Apartment. Outside. Rows of apartments. Streets. Not so much about school. Shops, stores, night time. Apartment. Outside.
...inside, however is a different matter. The upper floors ... in some dreams they are regular living quarters. In some they lavish expanses of mansions. There are trapdoors and secret passageways in between all the floors (the dreams even vary, themselves, as to the types--rustic, old and dusty (dustbunny), facility (the stories of concrete, metal, and men between the ground floor and the nuclear reactor), mansion with trapdoor, upscale new york top-floor, etc.)
Even in one apartment the dustbunny-ish upper floors completely start to dissolve into a street-metal-sewage lattace that becomes very sparse of anything quickly, save the void that you ever fall through, lest you loose your balance or gripping.
No, this dream tonight brought back the memory of those other dreams. Why? How? I don't know. Like a lattice of thoughts that are turned off and kept from normal processes during the waking day (i.e.: janitor / debug mode)... why have they remained today? Why was I not just recalling my freshly-dreamed dream, but also those of years previous?
Anyway, the dream. Swimming pool. Lots of Japanese. Famous ones. Naked. The girls aren't as timid as expected, but they're not acting slutty, either. Just the right amount of social friction. Fucking hottubs. Love 'em.
The butler comes in. Like the one from Fresh Prince. With an "Ask Jeeves" imagined vocal demeanor (like constantly asking if shit's ok, temperature, garbage, shit)
Ok, time to shower off and get dressed. Man, looking at those girls and not getting any. I'm gonna go beat off. But where? These showers have silvered, 1-way mirrors. Fuck. I guess I'll have to go do that elsewhere. Ah, you have brought me an electrical footwarmer that goes in the shower. Thanks, Jeeves.
Even this doesn't make a whole lot of sense in the dream. I keep looking at it and making sure it has the right trip switches and fuses because, hey: water and electricity don't fucking mix. In fact, I go to the swimming pool and see a huge hierarchical splitoff of a hugeass surge protector, underwater, serving smaller surge protectors... also underwater. I unplug the large one (yeah, try this at home = you die = no great loss, kiddies) and find that the 330volt crazy-blade plug isn't going to work. Fuck it.
Well, that was a quick shower. I don't even feel wet... OH GOD WHAT THE FUCK.
DUDE. GET THE FUCK AWAY FROM THAT SPIDER. KICK THE SHIT OUT OF IT. RUN! YEAH, KICK IT OFF RETARD. OH SHIT IT SPLIT INTO A BUNCH OF BABIES. THAT BEACHBALL-SIZED BLACK WIDOW GOT KICKED INTO A BUNCH OF FIST-SIZED BLACK WIDOW SPIDERS. RUN YOU FAGGOT. HEY YOU STUPID FAT FUCK THAT GOES FOR YOU TOO.
I'm yelling as I stay the fucking furthest from those two retards and closest to the door where I can slam it closed and be safe from all that shit. One guy is pretty dumb. The other guy is a fucking vacuum bag full of dust and retard. Jeeves hears the commotion and a look befalls his face: "Great. I don't want to deal with this shit."
"Jeeves," I mouth to him, "911. Now." He quickly walks down the hall (no need to run, paramedics won't make it in time) as the one with half a brain brushes off the huge spiders and moves away. The stupid one, with the fangs of at least 8 different spiders, THE SIZE OF HIS FIST, buried across his legs, back, and neck, is slumped over on the grass.
All of us know, even the half-dimwit, that the guy is dead. There is nothing anyone can do. I try and think of something, but instead I wake up.
I kinda want to go back to sleep now.
Wednesday, January 19, 2011
Sunday, January 9, 2011
Friday, January 7, 2011
Tuesday, January 4, 2011
54Mbps connection
==nothing connected==
240p -> 3% spike ~10s, 1% flux
360p -> 3% spike ~15s, 1.5% flux
480p -> 3% spike ~35s, 3% flux
720p -> 3% spike 3% max
3% * 54Mbps = 197kB/s (no overhead or anything)
==ipod connected==
Low quality for saturated connection 1-1.5%
High quality for saturated connection < 0.5%
--rx saturation: 67516 / 17031
youtube mobile regular quality is 360p
also kunio is a faggot
==nothing connected==
240p -> 3% spike ~10s, 1% flux
360p -> 3% spike ~15s, 1.5% flux
480p -> 3% spike ~35s, 3% flux
720p -> 3% spike 3% max
3% * 54Mbps = 197kB/s (no overhead or anything)
==ipod connected==
Low quality for saturated connection 1-1.5%
High quality for saturated connection < 0.5%
--rx saturation: 67516 / 17031
youtube mobile regular quality is 360p
also kunio is a faggot
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