1. image: Download

    Thanks to LinkedIn shoveling out my email contact list and presenting them to me as if they were other people, a quest for customer information instead led to the find of an old email account generated for a googlepages project seed planted back in 2006.
The other day I was at a webcomics meetup thing and was sketching out a framework for a future thing and the nice proper artist next to me said

"WHERE DID YOU COME FROM?!? WHAT KIND OF IDEA IS THIS?!?”

and—implicit interrobangs aside—it felt like maybe the nicest compliment. Whether she meant it that way or not.  It seems like a pleasant assumption to make.  I certainly would mean it complimentarily if saying it to old ME.  We’d probably be pals.

    Thanks to LinkedIn shoveling out my email contact list and presenting them to me as if they were other people, a quest for customer information instead led to the find of an old email account generated for a googlepages project seed planted back in 2006.

    The other day I was at a webcomics meetup thing and was sketching out a framework for a future thing and the nice proper artist next to me said

    "WHERE DID YOU COME FROM?!?
    WHAT KIND OF IDEA IS THIS?!?”

    and—implicit interrobangs aside—it felt like maybe the nicest compliment. Whether she meant it that way or not.  It seems like a pleasant assumption to make.  I certainly would mean it complimentarily if saying it to old ME.  We’d probably be pals.

     
  2. 11:11 21st Apr 2014

    Notes: 1

    I didn’t go.  Mostly because I don’t want to be on the wrong radars.  Plus, I don’t need to blow the curve in an introductory class.  C’mon.

    I didn’t go.  Mostly because I don’t want to be on the wrong radars. 
    Plus, I don’t need to blow the curve in an introductory class.  C’mon.

     
  3. A vacation from ourselves!

    […] Stirring it up, American Style. [otherwise, redacted.]

     
  4. I’d post this twice, but that seems a little on the nose. 

    (The wiggling lagomorphic nose.)

     
  5. "Ladies and Gentlemen, welcome David Spade!"

    It is, a decade and a half later, still inextricably linked.

     
  6. 17:59 18th Apr 2014

    Notes: 4

    Reblogged from miasmaofdata

    Plays: 88

    miasmaofdata:

    It wouldn’t be a lot of math to calculate exactly how much time I have spent listening to this 88 second track.  Communication IS complicated. 

    Herp…derp.

     
  7. image: Download

    Humility Plates.
Some days I miss Berkeley California at what I imagine to be precisely the threshold for exactly as much as I can bear.

    Humility Plates.

    Some days I miss Berkeley California at what I imagine to be precisely the threshold for exactly as much as I can bear.

     
  8. The same way one is everyone in one's dreams (even the monsters): The Royal Tenenbaums

    1. MT: Did Eli send you that?
    2. ET: Mm-hmm. He always sends me his clippings.
    3. MT: What for?
    4. ET: I think he just likes the encouragement. He's done it for years. He used to send me his grades in college.
    5. MT: That's ridiculous.
     
  9. image: Download

    On the Internet, nobody knows you’re a dog.
(I was actually looking for something from this day 5 years ago and stumbled onto this international madness.  But—Fun fact!—I am actually pretty okay with a Magna Doodle, the EAS was what I had and it worked out as all the sketches of that era were performed in one of my favorite underground places and within feet of a not exactly well shielded 9.4 Tesla magnet: A lot of sitting still, a lot of extremely sudden movement.)
Usually they don’t spell it Kunstler. Drop the sler, c/k swap, jiggle the letters around a bit.  That’s what I’m more accustomed to seeing without the James.  (James → Peak Oil → Peak Hair  → Bubbles.)

    On the Internet, nobody knows you’re a dog.

    (I was actually looking for something from this day 5 years ago and stumbled onto this international madness.  But—Fun fact!—I am actually pretty okay with a Magna Doodle, the EAS was what I had and it worked out as all the sketches of that era were performed in one of my favorite underground places and within feet of a not exactly well shielded 9.4 Tesla magnet: A lot of sitting still, a lot of extremely sudden movement.)

    Usually they don’t spell it Kunstler. Drop the sler, c/k swap, jiggle the letters around a bit.  That’s what I’m more accustomed to seeing without the James. 
    (James
    → Peak Oil → Peak Hair  Bubbles.)

     
  10.  
  11. Lilacs aside, April has never been great at expressing kindness, Tom.

     
  12. Pizzagato!

    It is distressing how many items in my refrigerator I have no intention of eating.

    Popt-arts.
    Fudge John Hodgman.
    Meow-roborous the Pizza Cat.

    (I keep canned goods in the fridge too because I sort of like everything hanging out in one place. Not in an “I think they’re having a party” way: I’m not exactly that kind of crazy*.
    I just like everything equally accessible.
    I also like tomatoes. And pickles. And sealegs. I also like and have mustard, if you would like to invoke the voice of Otto, man: “I had mustard?!?”
    This has been a fridge census update.)

    *solid wikipedia article!

     
  13. Pizzicato!

    I used to play my former officemate’s violin sometimes when I was in lab in the middle of the night. (The immigrant instrumental trifecta meant that as a kid I did play violin, but I only really was ever good at picking things out by ear: I foolishly resisted the development of any technical skills in that arena).

    I have been riding a wave of nostalgia these last few days.

    El Guapo is so handsome. It’s in the name, but still. Oh, man.

     
  14. Plays: 28

    I took out my credit card to buy a plane and event ticket just before realizing that there are better than even odds that I’m doing a series of tricky installs that week, twice as far away and in the other direction.

    Days later, I’ve yet to find a trombone sad enough, but there are few endeavors I would more whole-heartedly support.

    (Source: youlooknicetoday.com)

     
  15. Tiny Confession

    There is a fancy Dyson vacuum cleaner in the next office with a big orange ball that you can just see out of the corner of your eye when you are making coffee in this office.  

    Every time I do, I mistake the ball for a pumpkin and the part of me that will probably always be (on an almost completely controlled and actively ignored level) …a kleptomaniac freetarian*, salivates about how delicious it would be to steal it and turn it into a soup.

    It really stresses me out whenever I notice myself doing that.

    Pavlov would have a field day with me.

    *Yeah, no foolin’: that was a phase. 
    That’s still in me, somewhere.
    The funnest of fun times.