Recently on Metafilter, someone posted a link to Automated Mario: video of user-created Super Mario World levels that are designed to play themselves. And this was cool and nifty and entertaining ( Read more... )

My hobby: fixing broken rhymes in popular songs.

So slide over here
And give me a moment
Your moves are so raw
I've got to let you gnaw
I've got to let you gnaw
You're one of my kind

Oh, and:

Poor cook, he caught the fits ( Read more... )

( This is an entry about me cooking beans. It is very long. )

I just found out that they're going to be holding that Labor Day thing again, and that it's this weekend. This is most upsetting. Besides the obvious problem that I have to stop wearing white shoes again, they picked a weekend during my biggest work crunch of the last few years. I wasn't planning on being able to have a weekend, much less a three- ( Read more... )

Ok, I didn't mean to do this again, but this is too beautiful not to share.

( Are my dreams to come true? )

Every now and then it's nice to know that, while computers do and henceforth always will own your soul, they don't yet know quite what to do with it.

( Trust the computer )

ladybanchee, this is for you. Or rather, for your roommates.

I know no better way to get gamers to do anything than by dangling precious experience points in front of them.

The last time tonyfox was here, I ended up posting an entry about watching seals in Coos Bay, which prompted kinkyturtle to comment that "ooo! Seals are Coosbaynians!"

Now tonyfox is here again, and, in a completely unrelated incident, taper happened to bring up the fact that Jim Henson named the planet Koozebane after Coos Bay, Oregon.

Odd. Just...odd.

So I've just come to work for the first full day since Friday, having been out Monday, Tuesday, and Wednesday with the worst sickness I've had since mononucleosis laid me low for three weeks in college. Nausea, vomiting, all kinds of bad news from the bowels. The stomach pain became so intolerable on Tuesday that I had to "borrow" a Percoset to ( Read more... )

The worst thing about a near miss in the roundabout is thinking back on the honk you honked at the idiot who swerved across lanes and nearly creamed you, realizing it sounded too much like a beep, and coming up with all the really cutting honks you could have honked if only you had thought of them at the time.