So a friend of mine sent me this movie link, stating that sometimes, she really regrets eloping.
So a friend of mine sent me this movie link, stating that sometimes, she really regrets eloping.
I have a love hate relationship with boxes. You already know that. On the one hand, they keep the clutter under some sort of control. On the other hand, they’re like Visa—everywhere I want to be—in my hallway, in front of my bookshelves, in front of my pantry, in front of my couch. Everywhere. It is apparent that I love boxes of all sorts.
And then there’s the part of me that wants them out of my life.
The main issue is of course, “Too much stuff.”
No small amount of stuff is just paper. Notes, bills, invoices, and paper statements are a big problem. I don’t know why companies insist on sending you something you can touch with your hands.
Just send me the pdf.
Or something.
Frost everywhere! Finally.
The only bad thing is the lack of heat in the attic. I’m wearing my vest and jacket and I find that it’s quite comfortable.
I guess that’s another reason to leave here.
So far, the Wii is amazing. I’m only going to touch on one element of the functionality which is WiiConnect 24.
In short, the Wii is always connected to the internet, even when it’s off. In standby mode, it has the capability to go out into the electric aether and retrieve things for you.
When it does have something for you, the disc slot will pulse with a dim blue glow.
It’s like a mail flag and I’m a little disappointed when I go home and it’s not on.
When it is on, I’ve got a message from my brother, or any one of a number of my friends that have Wiis.
The blue glow is a very simple design decision that means a lot for the user experience.
Now if only my 360 would do the same thing.
And here we are:
Thinner R. Nutmeat
I think that’s a fantastic name. I think I’ve found a new use for spam. I’ll just keep the good names around so that I can use them in fiction later.
I think Mr. Nutmeat happens to be a very large man. The “R.” is short for Rotunda.
He’s a desk clerk of indeterminate department of an unnamed conglomeration of companies, and spends his days at an antique desk, languishing away collecting a paycheck as his superiors have long forgotten why he was put there in the first place.