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Michael considered fate at 17:34   |   Permalink   |   Post a Comment
Well isn't this useful...

Michael considered fate at 13:49   |   Permalink   |   Post a Comment
To the tune of William Tell's Overture

Ode to the Mini Cooper


MINI Coop, MINI Coop, MINI Coop Coop, Coop,
Mini Coop, Mini Coop, Mini Coop, Coop, Coop!


Mini Coooooop, MINI Coop, Coop Cooper!

Michael considered fate at 10:55   |   Permalink   |   Post a Comment
Well well well.. I've seen a few weird cases in my day.. windowed, clear plexiglass.. But this one takes the cake, me thinks.The Polyurethane Foam Neuhausplatz 200NC case - no case.

I am still waiting for the duct tape case, however


Michael considered fate at 17:26   |   Permalink   |   Post a Comment
Back in what can only be guesstimated as my third year of university I participated in Frost, or whatever the hell they called Frosh in the winter. Frosh is "Freshman Orientation", which of course happens right before school in late August and involves ridiculus amounts of warm (free) beer. Unlike many universities and colleges in the states, McGill's orientation is run by students for students.. more specifically run by upperclass students [in order] for the [upperclass] students to [take advantage of freshman and their weak abilities in the drinking arena and] have loads of fun [while the freshmen are passed out]. Okay, it's not really that bad. Anyhow, Frost was just another excuse to do the same thing, albeit on a smaller scale, at the beginning of winter semester. Since it's miserable and cold in January in Montreal everything is kept inside and really, what can you do inside besides drink beer? So.. Frost is mostly "Beer Olympics", which means drinking till you puke, and sometimes with a time limit.

Alright. Now that the introductions are over our story may begin:
Enter Rom, goofy blonde-haired drinkster extrodinaire. His drinking team consisted of a finely trained group of bingers and bingettes that could rival the world over. Mid-competition there is an event that is essential a practice in ad-lib theatrics. The teams had to come up with a basic story and act it out in a 5 minute span. Now Rom's team was "The Shatner's" or something silly like that due to the fact that the student union building is itself called the William Shatner building, due to the fact that William was a student of McGill at one time or another. Anyhow, the team performed what is probably the lewdest theatre I've ever seen describing a vivacious Shatner rampaging through the ranks of freshman women like a flu virus.. Or maybe it was Rom himself. Or a superhero, I'm not sure. The point is that the skit ended with his coup de femme: he "Shat'n'her". Oi. Almost as weird as Bill's very own website, which - am I wrong here? - is reeeeaaally weird. I'm mean strange. It's a cross between a eStore and a personal website? His daughter has space on it but he gives away free fridge magnets with every purchase.. wha? Cripes, if this is the new economy, show me where to find the door.


Michael considered fate at 16:33   |   Permalink   |   Post a Comment
I just realized I have been resizing the windows on my desktop to the beats and rhythms of Gilberto & Getz' Girl from Ipanema for the last 4 minutes. . .

Michael considered fate at 13:42   |   Permalink   |   Post a Comment
I need a woman like you wouldn't believe. I've maintained my new years resolution.... it's been about 83 days, 10 hours, and 13 minutes since I got any nooky *whatsoever*. Of *any* kind. Do you realize the implications?

I'm dyin here. Everyone is looking juicy and scrumptious. My standards are dropping faster than Enron stock on sept. 11th. I want a meaningful relationship SO badly my left knee might spontaneously explode into a thousand pieces sending bone splinters into my gonads like so many pins and needles in a voodoo doll. OHhhhh the pain, the agony of it all. I'm trying so hard to hold out, to not be a manwhore. What do they expect of me? What human should be forced to endure this?


Michael considered fate at 17:31   |   Permalink   |   Post a Comment
So Alison has gone the way of Ernie, it appears, removing her commenting system altogether for now. I was afraid this would happen. Elizabeth never had any comments, to my knowledge, so that now brings the number of weblogs I read with comment systems down to zero. This is particularly disturbing since, as much as Ern, Ali, and Liz write, they don't write nearly enough to keep me busy at work not working. I always counted on the comments to provide, if not interesting then at least lengthy, reading material. I did, however, manage to find some of Alison's old layouts which are kind of fun and it allows you to avoid seeing her site with the new layout which is frankly a bit dark and scary for this early spring environment (although very well done as usual). Also, In Passing has comments and they're usually nice, inane, long ones with running commentary and discussion about the quotes, or about nothing at all, but mildly amusing nonetheless.

Moving on to brighter things, it is spring. The time of renewal and rebirth and little lambs flying out of their mother's butts encased in embryonic goo and pretty little flowers being run over by the convoys of construction vehicles rolling out of their wintery caves. It is a time for bright glaring sunshine blinding you to tears on the drive to work and... last but not least... the biting blistering cold of a winter wind reaching from behind it's bars, tearing at your clothing trying to reach you from the other side of the line in the sand called the spring equinox.

You see, up here in Maine weather is not a timid animal. She is a fiesty bitch with sharp teeth but soft fur. A temptress who bats her lashes at father time, coldly wrapping her thin bony fingers around his free will. A woman who cajolingly winks at us with the bright sun of a new day while sprinkling the seeds of a winter's storm behind her back.

This weekend I drove into that storm. It started early, in Grafton notch this side of the New Hampshire border. An easy climb through the woods for the car despite the sand and dirt on the roads and the wet slick pavement. The snow began to spittle at first but offered no signs of the onslaught that was to come. By Dixville's notch I was making better time than I ever have and the night was clear and crisp as The Balsalm's flew by like a Christmas postcard. At a quick stop for fuel in Colebrook a light mist was noted that was barely perceptable inside the car... by the crossing it was snow flurries with a hint of more to come. I thought this would be the final card she would play that night, a low face card but a admirable showing on this new spring's night.. but how I was wrong.

As I merged off 55 onto route 10 Ouest towards Montreal with a mere 120km separating me and my fine city things were once again clear as day and I cruised at an easy 80mph with little traffic to contend with. In a few short minutes I would arrive in a frozen hell.

It started with big puffy flakes, a few here and a few there. It was nice at first as they flew by like little white lights, lite up by my halogens, pretty even. Seconds later there were more than I could count and they kept rushing at me with all the anger and intensity of a thousand tiny bulls charging at my milano red flag of a car. In seconds visibility dropped to about 25 feet and my muscles tensed as I tentatively tapped the brakes until my speedometer came down to a resonable reading of 20mph. I stared hard at the mesmerizing pinpoint where all flakes seemed to be attacking from in the center of my vision and found myself veering to the left or right more than once. As the wind blew harder and harder the car's rear end slide dangerously over the ice-glazed pavement as the engine tried to pull things into line. A number of times even the light gray lines of the previous vehicle's tires before me disappeared from view, even the front of my car, as I rolled along at a speed in the single digits, weaving back and forth acrossed the highway with only the snowbank and a rumble strip to warn me of the impending doom on either side.

Not until I came to a slow and agonizing sliding stop behind a tractor trailer truck did I realize the extent of the ice on the road's surface; enough to make even walking a challenge. As I sat behind the truck staring blankly at the flashing hazard lights the rear of the car once again slid precariously towards the side of the road, forced by the howl of the wind - this time while at a standstill - until the car's angle became sharp enough away from the wind that it no longer could push with all it's might.

After ten minutes of deliberation traffic started moving again, albeit slowly, through the dark wintery night. To my left a forlorn trucker stood in front of his wrongly-facing rig, frowning sadly at the mess across the road. To my right lay a giant 26-wheeled vehicle twisted like an aluminum can of soda and tossed into the ditch. Lights flashed and men milled about.

For the next 30 minutes I drove, sometimes slowly, sometimes fast, through the varying weather, braving the evil hells of winter and finally, in a sigh of immense relief I reached the city limits. And as I crossed the Pont Champlain the city was hidden in a dark cloud of nothingness, not a single building or light visible from mere miles away, hidden in a dark mass I thought reserved only for such imaginarys as Gotham.

After I arrived I quickly made my way to the bathroom to alleviate 5 hours of driving urine built up to a knee-shaking pressure. I stood there, leaning against the wall, listening to the clank of Colt 45's in the fridge and the crinkle of the paper bags on the other side of the bathroom door and the laugh of my compatriots at the ridiculus kids in the hall and then I remembered. I remembered I had forgot to put my winter tires on. Oi, was I glad to be home again.


Michael considered fate at 13:45   |   Permalink   |   Post a Comment
Oh ha........ha........ha. The GLOBAL March Madness. Them people over at satirewire sure think they be funny folk. Well, alright, it's actually done pretty well. Check out the Southern Regional, looks like MS by a landslide.


Michael considered fate at 12:57   |   Permalink   |   Post a Comment
So there was some 21st birthday mayhem going on this weekend down in Bean town. I spent too much money, got stumbling drunk, dropped the poor girl in a puddle, and drank 5 nights in a row (stupid st. patty's day..heh). I was very impressed with Jake Ivory's, the bar we went to that had "dualing pianos". A truly interesting concept and what a racket they have going: they'll play bad music till you pay them to stop. It's a blast, check 'em out by Fenway.


Michael considered fate at 10:18   |   Permalink   |   Post a Comment
Testing new comments.

Michael considered fate at 10:05   |   Permalink   |   Post a Comment
Add to the ongoing evils that is 'Microsoft's kampf':
Sometime last spring an activist group called Citizens Against Government Waste is caught simulating a "grassroots" campaign to get state attorneys general to drop their antitrust suit against Microsoft. Funny, they got a lot of funding from Microsoft. Even worse: Some of the letters supporting Microsoft are from people who have long since died.

classy. real classy.


Michael considered fate at 11:04   |   Permalink   |   Post a Comment
Some bad news:

a) Alison was gone for awhile... London, SXSW, etc, so not much going on there for the last few.

b) Ernie took down his comments system. Something about people abusing it, although I never saw anything. He was probably deleting posts from some nazi gay basher, I dunno. Too bad really cause it was oft entertaining stuff... the other comments.. not the bashing.. not that there was bashing.. I'm just hypothosizing. I think I just spelt hypothesizing wrong.

c) sp1nk.. umm.. can't even remember her name. But a couple interesting comments about California there.. but otherwise the photos she chose to put up are.. um.. boring? A couple interesting tree shots.. but otherwise...


Michael considered fate at 13:09   |   Permalink   |   Post a Comment
Webloggers Axiom 1:

All weblog entries with user comment threads must contain, as their second comment, an entry extolling it's own "First Post!" greatness.


Michael considered fate at 09:48   |   Permalink   |   Post a Comment
Back in 1996 at Bell Labs there was a group of highly regarded OS groupies working on the Inferno Operating System, now owned by Vita Nuova. I won't go into detail because the real point of this thread is that one of the guys working on Inferno at the time was this dude named Phil Winterbottom. Yeah. Winterbottom. Coldbutt. Phil Frozenass. Ha.



Michael considered fate at 10:02   |   Permalink   |   Post a Comment
The cool thing about this 'internet' is it's complete inability to practice prejudice. Sure, may get more hits, more ads, more links... But even the crazy neurotic nuts of the world can provide their lunacy with little to no trouble. www.JoeBob' is just as accessible as This is the power of the internet. This is where the real power lies. We are a richer people for Time Cube, I assure you.


Michael considered fate at 15:16   |   Permalink   |   Post a Comment
A quick bit about the word "dink" today, folks. Don't use it. It's weak and sour and rolls off the tongue like a sausage in a thresher. It smells of low-brow pseudoswearing and it's *not* at all becoming. Note that has nothing to say about dink as a derogatory term in the way that people oft use it these days. If you really want to go that route, just use 'dick'. It's much more clear and it doesn't sound nearly as whiskey tango. As Zappa said, "That's right. You asked for it. Remember there's a big difference between kneeling down and bending over."

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Check out heroecs, the robotics team competition website of my old supervisor's daughter. Fun stuff!
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