http://www.humblebundle.com/
They have my $10.00

Well... maybe not threw, but a rock suddenly appeared where one wasn't before, in the space of 12 days, and the scientists are going crazy over it:  http://www.cnn.com/2014/01/20/tech/inno ... ?hpt=hp_t3]story here.
-- Bob
---------
Then the horns kicked in...
...and my shoes began to squeak.

Timote: Your sig has just made my night.
My younger brother, Tsojat, looked over my shoulder and read it... and had a complete and total moment of BSOD.  Literally.
He did a double take and the sudden intensity of focus brought about a dyslexia attack so strong that he physically suffered for a few minutes.  It was epic.  I LMAOd so much.  He says a Redbox logo looked like Rebdox and an Orbitz logo looked like Orditz.
Bob: this oughta go into the All The Tropes wiki under Real Life Examples.
Thanks much! 

Here's an image. Anybody want to tell me a story about it?


--
Rob Kelk
"Governments have no right to question the loyalty of those who oppose
them. Adversaries remain citizens of the same state, common subjects of
the same sovereign, servants of the same law."

- Michael Ignatieff, addressing Stanford University in 2012

Sad news via the FFML (http://www.chez-vrolet.net/pipermail/ffml/]web archive here, specific message http://www.chez-vrolet.net/pipermail/ff ... 04294.html]here).

Apparently Brian Randall chose to take his own life this month.

Damn.

Newly ensconced within Port Luna, the neophyte Fen, Van Loan, had his inaugural utility epiphany.

“Gah, I’m surrounded by ‘Eighties action figures!”

He had to do something about all  the senshi costumes that crinkled, ill-fit  & flashed cheap fabrics constantly within the sphere of his new existence. 

He sought the Lunar leader.  

“I’m hanging a tailor’s shingle.”

Tanith Curtis attempted to smooth down an all together too rigid, too shiny and far too plastic looking skirt as she  navigated around her cluttered office desk to offer her guest a enthusiastic, firm handshake.

“Real clothes? You don’t know how sick I am of our Hallowe’en wardrobes! What do you need to start?”

“What don’t I need?”

She made a call.

“Bev, can you make a shopping run with...”

“Van Loan,” Van Loan offered.

The voice on the other end of the speaker phone sounded more than a little dubious : “I’m pretty busy down...”

“He’s a dress maker!”

“I’ll be right there!”

That’s how he met the second boss lady, Beverly Hayakawa.  A Stellvia & Greenwood shopping excursion commenced :  he acquired fabrics from the latter, the tools and resources for jewelry design from the former. Feeling a little giddy at the most that he had ever been in hock at any one time, Van Loan was return moon-shuttled by a 

future-wardrobe enthused Hayakawa. 

“True tiaras! I can’t wait!”

****

It was with his new found goal and his new found stock that he discovered that there was more to his recent ‘Waviation than just turning blue. On some fundamental level, he fabricated outfits that were well beyond his official ken. Oh, if he concentrated he could make perfectly acceptable outfits ; but if he released his consciousness in favour of...muscle memory? generational genetic recall? voodoo?...he was the Carl Fabergé of costuming! 

It was nice when the membership expanded into the realm of the ‘action girl’.  Van Loan, now established Fen, Dr. (unofficial) Drakken, welcomed the enrichment of the costuming orders : seifuku & magical girl outfits, while his rye & churned cream, tended to fall within the dual spectrums of repetition & perversion. The one he was finessing now fell well within the gravitation of the far pole of the latter ; but at least by extension of this wanton fabric abandon it was far from a routine build. Holding up the  ‘wide belt’ & scant-more-than-pasties top, he informed the outfit, “Your owner is a naughty, naughty girl!”

“Do you always harangue your outfits?” The wry comment originated directly from his six o’clock blind spot. 

He jumped, but only a scant three feet : hardly a start at all. “Only the very vulgar variety.” He replied, rapidly re-stuffing his metaphorical heart, and other major & minor organs into his chest cavity. 

“yes, it is a filthy, filthy getup : exactly what I ordered!” The über pneumatic satirical sass enthused. (sass: (noun) A brash, bumptious, brazen being) She held it up against the plentitude of her physique. “Umm, how is this supposed to stay...attached?”

 Van Loan handed her the complimentary case of spirit gum.

“What’s this?”

Trying his best to remain somewhere within the bounds of professionalism, Van Loan found himself applying considerable amounts of adhesive to equally considerable amounts of a girl who was far less of a Lorelei than she immediately let on. For his troubles, Van Loan received an ample sum and an equally bounteous quantity of gratitude for gallantry. 

After the lass had left, Van Loan poured himself a double of his very best single malt. He hoisted the weighty Scotch glass in a self-toast:

“To the girl I don’t have to be professional with!”

He proceeded  to salve his soul with  the honeyed silk of a twelve year old Cardhu. 

http://socialreader.com/#me/content/N54WK]Article here, with links to some of the reporter's favorites.

I wonder how many folks will be downloading the one of Carrie Fisher and stunt-double...
--
Rob Kelk
"Governments have no right to question the loyalty of those who oppose
them. Adversaries remain citizens of the same state, common subjects of
the same sovereign, servants of the same law."

- Michael Ignatieff, addressing Stanford University in 2012

MSN is reporting that http://tv.msn.com/tv/article.aspx?news=847737]Russell Johnson passed away yesterday, at age 89.

I'd recently re-watched This Island Earth - well, the MST3K version - although I suspect most folks will remember him from Gilligan's Island. Odd how he played characters with quiet dignity in both stories...
--
Rob Kelk
"Governments have no right to question the loyalty of those who oppose
them. Adversaries remain citizens of the same state, common subjects of
the same sovereign, servants of the same law."

- Michael Ignatieff, addressing Stanford University in 2012

So.... Please allow me to vent.

Earlier this week I had an excellent job interview. Really good. Twenty minutes ballooned into a half-hour and every left happy. Got a phone call this morning, telling me that the interviewer had really liked the stuff I'd shown him on my laptop, my referee on my CV was positive and I'd made an excellent impression - but he'd decided to go for someone with more experience.

Ten minutes later, I get the same thing from an interview I'd had after that one. You're good - but not experienced.

Disappointing, but par for the course. I've a third one to come tomorrow morning, 2 hours drive away in Lurgan. That's probably 40 euro worth of fuel and another tenner in tolls to get the exact same Catch 22 answer. What is this experience and how does one get it?

Fast forward to evening time, there's a big fight going on outside. Dogs are going wild. Until I hear a sound outside suspiciously like a car horn, followed by revving and a trailer full of something toppling over. Turns out some knacker had backed their car through the garden wall in an attempt to run someone else over as part of an ongoing feud - before driving off at speed. I hand a few carparts to the Garda when she shows up. Someone hands a registration to me they found further down the street from the car after the Gard' left.... Chances of them having car insurance are somewhere between none and less than that.

And putting my car back into the driveway after going to get a pizza to sooth my frustrations, trying to avoid the damaged pillar with the front of the car, I forget that there's another gatepost and tear the shite out of the paint on the passenger door. And it's a proper fucking gouge, right down the door to the primer.

Bollox.

And now I'm officially the worst driver in Ireland.... worse than paying for it is listening to the nagging over it. Like nobody else ever scratched a car in their lives.

Sorry about the rant.... It's all petty. It's all minor. The world isn't coming to an end, I know. Nobody's dying. Thursday's over and no Vogons. But it's all bloody annoying and frustrating as hell when it dumps at once.
________________________________
--m(^0^)m-- Wot, no sig?