My brother got an IPod for christmas. Neat-o. It has a radio tuner and made music right off the cuff. Cool.
I plugged it into a computer and it showed up as a flash drive. Cool.
I stuffed it full of music and... nothing. It doesn't actually play mp3s.
I did some research on the net and found out that you need to sync it to ITunes and shit like that. I run linux, so I spent some time grepping around only to find out that it really isn't an mp3 player.
So I boot into XP and download ITunes. 90 megs. I run the bloated executable. It takes 10 minutes just to pop up a fucking window. Then it takes 3 fucking hours to install! I can install a real fancy operating system in 45 minutes. WTF? At this point I know I'm getting into a world of shit here.
Finally the install of ITunes is done, so I realize the stupid dongle is stuffed full and moved all the mp3s off to make some room, all 1710 of them. That takes a while. Now it's empty. I run ITunes and it takes me straight to a page where I have to enter a valid credit card number to initialize the IPod.
Well, let me tell you. I have been into computers since 1983 and I HAVE NEVER PUT MY CREDIT CARD ON THE INTERNET. There is no choice to pass at this point. I minimize the stupid window and try to just get the 1710 mp3s on it. no go. By this time I've spent about 8 hours fucking around with this idiotic thing. IPods are stupid.
I boot back into linux and drop the issue. About 4 in the morning I wake up with fresh inspiration and compile gtkpod. After some dependency issues I get it going. YEAH! It puts music on the stupid dongle but somehow cannot update the database files. Now I'm 12 hours into the IPod fiasco and it still doesn't play mp3s.
Fuck it. I take it back to my brother and tell him, "This is the first and last IPod I will ever have anything to do with. You wanna fuck with it, go ahead. But I recommend you take it back and buy a real mp3 player."
I saw a nice 16G Philips Muse for only $90.
Fuck Apple and the horse they rode in on.
Sunday, December 27, 2009
Saturday, December 26, 2009
Panda the autistic cat
A while back we had a cat we called Panda. He was an energetic little thing, mostly white with black patches. We got him from my friend Bill who has cats but they all get inbred because he doesn't get them fixed.
Panda was amazing. He was a hunter. No way around it. He would hunt anything that moved. He caught giant earthworms, mice, rats, bugs, birds, snakes, squirrels, you name it, he caught it.
I once heard an old chinese myth about the ridges on the top of a cat's mouth. The more ridges they have the better hunter they'll be. The cat I had before Panda, I called Tyrone, and I had him for 15 years. He was a great hunter. He had 11 ridges on his upper palate. Our other cat we still have, Tasha, is a shitty hunter. She has 0 ridges on her palate. She doesn't hunt at all.
On a couple occasions I tried to count the ridges on Panda's palate. I got to 13 before he'd squirm and squawk so much I'd lose count. It's kinda hard to count the ridges on the top of a cat's mouth, especialy if it's a crazy little thing like him.
He was autistic. If it involved hunting, he was a brilliant genius. But he couldn't figure out how to push the bathroom door open enough to get through. He'd sit there thinking "That's too small a space to get through, I'm not even going to try." Tasha just puts her shoulder into it and shoves it open. She even pulls doors open by grabbing them with her claws and pulling.
Well, back to Panda's hunting fetish.
One Sunday morning I was laying in bed with Megan. She was still snoozing, and I was just loafing, thinking about making tea, but more thinking about having a nice morning shag with her. The covers were half off me and my dick started to sprout. My eyes were mostly closed, thinking about erotic things to get the blood going the right direction.
In my reverie I hadn't noticed Panda sitting by the side of the bed, but he had noticed me. Or at least my dick. To him it must have looked like some crazy giant worm climbing out of my crotch. He pounced and scored. He caught my cock in his talons and WOKE _ME_ RIGHT UP!
When I screamed and bolted upright with arms aflailing I guess he realized this wasn't just some ordinary garden critter and let go, thank God.
He glanced at my face briefly, before backing away from my firmly clasped package before I realized what had just happened. He got the hell out of the room before I even had the proper consciousness to throw him out.
Panda was amazing. He was a hunter. No way around it. He would hunt anything that moved. He caught giant earthworms, mice, rats, bugs, birds, snakes, squirrels, you name it, he caught it.
I once heard an old chinese myth about the ridges on the top of a cat's mouth. The more ridges they have the better hunter they'll be. The cat I had before Panda, I called Tyrone, and I had him for 15 years. He was a great hunter. He had 11 ridges on his upper palate. Our other cat we still have, Tasha, is a shitty hunter. She has 0 ridges on her palate. She doesn't hunt at all.
On a couple occasions I tried to count the ridges on Panda's palate. I got to 13 before he'd squirm and squawk so much I'd lose count. It's kinda hard to count the ridges on the top of a cat's mouth, especialy if it's a crazy little thing like him.
He was autistic. If it involved hunting, he was a brilliant genius. But he couldn't figure out how to push the bathroom door open enough to get through. He'd sit there thinking "That's too small a space to get through, I'm not even going to try." Tasha just puts her shoulder into it and shoves it open. She even pulls doors open by grabbing them with her claws and pulling.
Well, back to Panda's hunting fetish.
One Sunday morning I was laying in bed with Megan. She was still snoozing, and I was just loafing, thinking about making tea, but more thinking about having a nice morning shag with her. The covers were half off me and my dick started to sprout. My eyes were mostly closed, thinking about erotic things to get the blood going the right direction.
In my reverie I hadn't noticed Panda sitting by the side of the bed, but he had noticed me. Or at least my dick. To him it must have looked like some crazy giant worm climbing out of my crotch. He pounced and scored. He caught my cock in his talons and WOKE _ME_ RIGHT UP!
When I screamed and bolted upright with arms aflailing I guess he realized this wasn't just some ordinary garden critter and let go, thank God.
He glanced at my face briefly, before backing away from my firmly clasped package before I realized what had just happened. He got the hell out of the room before I even had the proper consciousness to throw him out.
Thursday, December 10, 2009
Woody Of The Week
Check out this hottie. Her name is Jolene "Little Miss" Higgins and she's a fantastic musician and singer.
Her info is at http://www.littlemisshiggins.com/bio.htm. There's a great video at http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=zKIVRxULqHw. Watch how the trumpet player (Chris Whiteley) keeps looking at her with nothing but adoration (and what appears to be a significant sparkle of lust) in his eyes.
Yum.
I checked Concerts on Demand on cbc.ca and I found out through an askance comment of hers that she's a grandmother. Who woulda thought a hot blooded brunette firecracker like that could get so much action :) Whadya think she is? Mid-late thirties? Bet her kid's even hotter. Hard to find much info though. I didn't even know her name was Jolene until CoD.
I heard Kate Moss said "Nothing tastes as good as skinny feels." She's a clueless no-talent skank. My policy ( and I'm sure a lot of men will second this) is "Nothing looks and feels as good as a properly fed woman". Ergo this blog. I'd publish pictures of my own beautiful properly fed wife, but I like anonymity.
Here's an excellent take of her Dirty Ol' Tractor Song. Feed that url to mplayer and you can hear it through your speakers. Might even work in wmp. Never tried. It came from from this concert.
Enjoy.
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