The guitar strings I normally pay $7 a set for, are currently being scalped on eBay for $35 a set. Sold out everywhere else.
Goodbye to our cat Jeffrey. Our brave British cat. We’ll still look for you greeting us from your tree each morning.
2003 (probably) – to August, 27th 2017 @ 4:15PM PST.
Today our dog went to the vet…
I need to figure out how to get my Kinect to recognise and process the input from the paws of a feline.
To put this in context, my wife won’t let me re-purpose one of the huge touch screen computers we have as an interactive cat toy.
*grumble* *grumble* *grumble*
So now I need to see if there is any research that has been done on recognising touch input from a feline using the Microsoft Kinect and then figure out how to do that myself.
Life would be so much easier if my wife didn’t give me “that look” every time I wanted to experiment with my cats.
At the start of 2016 we had 9 computers (laptops/desktops) in the family household, 8 of them running Windows.
We are now up to 12 computers but down to only 4 installations of Windows.
By the end of this year, it will probably be only one, maybe two installations of Windows due to a desire to play certain games.
When you are in business and you act like an arrogant prick towards your customers, they vote with their dollars.
I fully expect Microsoft to go through the same shit they did in the 90’s with the anti-trust and wrist slapping because some companies are just pathological in their abusive practices.
Eventually you give up trying to teach the dog not to shit in the house using positive reinforcement and instead resort to negative reinforcement.
“I’d like to invite you to coffee. I’ll pay. I want to pick your brains about my start-up idea and I’m looking for a CTO. But I have to insist you don’t write about any of this on your blog. How does this afternoon sound?” said the unannounced inviter for coffee from New York City who found me through LinkedIn.
“I can only promise that if you promise not to say anything any reasonable person would regard as foolish.” I replied in an email from San Francisco.
I never did hear back.
I have refused to do business with at least three people over my career because after having lunch with them I realised I couldn’t stand to watch them eat, or worse, listen to them eat.
If you see me pop up in your “who viewed your profile” list it is a safe bet I was just tagged your profile with a “Facebook drivel” tag because you “liked” or commented on… well, on Facebook drivel.
“Well take care of yourself huh? Because that’s what you’re best at.”
I did not realise I was channeling Star Wars when I said that.
Beaver Builder and WP Types have suddenly become my two favouritest WordPress plugins.
Throw in Underscores theme and I don’t think I need to spin up Drupal instances for “those sites that don’t quite fit in the WordPress mould.”
Paying your web host for regular data backups of your server is like paying for insurance.
It’s only expensive until you need it.
Which is why I just quoted someone $25K to recover their malware infected web app server.
Because taking off and nuking the site from orbit with a known good backup is no longer an option.
It will entail weeks of painstaking work of picking through the rubble looking for things that shouldn’t be there.
There are some questions in your life that you should never seek an answer too.
Should I have invested in Apple at the time?
Should I eat that three day old taco in the refrigerator?
If you had to do it all over again, would you still marry me?
Yesterday I received a notice from a collections agency for an unpaid bill which I know I had paid months earlier.
I diligently called the number and after much fussing around I said “I can prove I paid the bill, I have the credit card statement that shows the amount was paid and the date it was paid on.”
“You would need to send us a copy of that statement.” said the collections “customer” service representive at the collections agency.
“Okaayyyy,” I said exasperated, “I will have to download it from my credit card’s website, print it out, redact other information, and…”
“We only accept unaltered, original documentation.” interjected the CSR before I could finish.
“Well I’m not going to contact my credit card company and have them mail me a physical copy of my statement and then mail you that statement with all the other information on it.” I countered.
“We’ll take it as a fax.” added the CSR.
“You absolutely require the original documentation?” I asked.
“Yes.” said the CSR.
“But you’re willing to let me fax it to you?”
“We’re not set up to handle physical mail.” clarified the CSR.
“I did some research on your company whilst we’re having this conversation,” I said, “it appears that your company is bogus and there are a number of investigations against various company directors.”
The telephone line went mysteriously dead.
And I never heard from that “collections agency” ever again.
“You’re quite the prolific influencer.” said a chap I met at a networking meet-up in reference to my writing and blogging and networking.
“Me? An influencer? I can barely get my wife to make up her mind about what she wants for lunch.” I quipped.
There was a game design mental exercise I used to do quite regularly. And I did this mental exercise on-again, off-again for about eight months total.
I would spend two or three hours drawing simple graphic assets, select a palette of limited colours, and a font, and a dozen sound effects.
I would then try to make an interesting game, and actually implement the game in code, out of only those assets I had available.
The mental exercise had a tendency to strongly focus the mind on what was important.
Sometimes you wound up with something interesting.
Sometimes you wound up with nothing at all.
But you always wound up with an interesting lesson in game design.
Yesterday I closed the door on my apartment in Mill Creek, WA and started the long drive South back to Los Angeles to stay with a friend whilst I recover from the roller-coaster of insanity in the past six months.
Hours before I am leaving, a little tortoiseshell kitten showed up on my front porch.
She cannot be older than 8 or 10 weeks.
I looked all around the apartment complex to see if anybody was missing a cat, but couldn’t find anyone. It was the middle of a work day.
I had resolved to take her to the shelter, but then thought better of it.
The hour had gotten late, I had just exhausted myself putting almost all of my belongings in to a storage locker, and I still had a long drive South to Los Angeles ahead of me.
Me, Cat, and my new kitten named Cath, are in the Land Rover, along with essential possessions such as clothes and computers, and are on the long road down through Washington, Oregon and California.
I don’t take work home from the office because I like to do somebody else’s work.
I take work home from the office so I can actually get the work done that I was being paid to do at the office but couldn’t due to the interruptions and the social distractions that are foisted upon me.
Website responds: “Thanks for uploading your C.V.”
“Now fill in all of the information from your C.V. by hand in to this multi-page form.”
Seriously. WTF!? This is like giving me a job before I interview for the job.
My C.V. is basically a list of things I hate to do.
I wish my clients’ finance departments would respond to my emails as quickly as my clients expect me to respond to theirs.
My new laptop (which I love) I picked up at Sears has a buggy video card driver.
The screen freezes periodically and you cannot recover from it.
Every time I have to shut down the computer (because it froze) feels like I am smothering a friend’s face with a pillow.
I have learned of this thing called “Thanksgiving” and apparently the entire fucking country shuts down and goes off to visit other people.
Thanks for letting me know you arseholes.
This would be like showing up on Christmas Day (without knowing about Christmas) in a new country and trying to figure out what the Hell is going on.
I’ve always held that if I do not stand a good chance of winning then I will refuse to compete.
And if I am forced to compete, then I change the rules to make sure I stand a good chance of winning.
The problem with people acting like an arsehole around me is that they get really upset when they find out I am a bigger arsehole than they could ever be.
You merely affect being an arsehole. It comes naturally to me and I practice, deliberate practice of course, every day.
You tinkle the ivories whilst I close out Carnegie Hall on a daily basis.
P.S. “Hell of a nice guy” in my Fido.net email signature block is a truism so long as you don’t push the wrong button.
The reason I do not hang out with people very much is that I find myself to be annoying.
I have very few friends but I seem to have an awful lot of acquaintances.
I can explain it to you, but I can’t understand it for you.
I fear the day when computers start thinking for themselves, not because computers will be thinking for themselves but because on that day people will stop thinking for themselves.
My personality reflects who I am.
My attitude reflects who you are.
So I learn that testing for infinite loops is actually called the “Halting Problem.”
Ah well, 40+ years late again.
So I just read that the Japanese people write their dates backwards, year, month, day.