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But wait, there's more.

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

Join codebastards, I dare you. Remember, codebastards are us.

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: entry for 2003-05-07 (22:02)
In which our plucky young hero admits it could've been a dropped book, also.

At the Bloor station today, I saw what happens when instinct takes over. While a bunch of us were waiting for the next train, there was a sharp bang! noise.

I flinched a little. Looked around. Tried to figure out what it was. That sounded like a balloon, I thought.

But the guy next to me, he dove to the floor in a smooth motion, ending up face-down with his arms covering his head. It was very fast. It looked like he's needed to practice diving to the ground whenever there's a bang, all his life.

Let's compare these two instinctual responses. Me, look around like an idiot for the balloon that someone just popped. Him, dive to the ground so that he won't get killed by a stray bullet.

I'm going to complain a little less about where I grew up, now. Anywhere "look around for the balloon" is a viable life lesson can't be all bad.

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