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But wait, there's more.

There's just no polite way to say "Buy me things", is there?

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I'm baded and jitter. So are these people. (And why not follow the previous, next, or random links?)

Need a band name?

Doug vs. Japanese Snack Foods: Part 1, Part 2, Part 3.

rant is where the heart is

diaryland: sirilyan.diaryland.com: entry for 2002-05-30 (01:52)
In which our plucky young hero makes it almost like being there.

The programming process, as defined by the phrases I heard myself utter tonight over the course of hours of banging on an obtuse piece of code:

"This should be pretty easy."

"Huh, that's odd."

"Okay, I see what it is. This'll fix that."

"Huh, still broken? Oh, wait. Okay, now I see what it is."

"Huh, still broken? Oh, wait. Okay, now I see what it is."

"No, I don't."

"My God, it's 5:30pm."

"You little son of a bitch."

"You goddamn son of a bitch!"

"You utter bastard! I can smash you, you know!"

"Oh. Wait. It was just a missing quote mark."

"Dammit! Good Eats! I missed half of it already!"

"My God, it's 9:30pm."

"What? That again? I already uploaded the fix, didn't I? I did... no, I didn't."

(muffled sobbing)

(banging of fist on desk)

"Aha! There! That does it! That fixes everything! In your face, space coyote!"

(comical chair dance)

"Huh? Is that... it's... it is."

(more muffled sobbing)

"Okay. Uploaded changes. Runs under -c. Try it from the browser... looks good... check the temp directory... looks good... check the browser again... we have it!"

"My God, it's 1:30am."

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