I mean, besides lose my desk at the office and have to bring all my stuff home because there is no home for it in the designer bullpen. And meet my new boss. And go to CSci 4011, where I found out that I forgot to include the tuple when creating the context free language for five of the problems that I thought that I had down pat. The tuple! How could I — oh, you don’t care. It’s shaping up to be a B.
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I don’t know how many times I have listened to that Slim Cessna song.
Here’s what it looks like when I do my CSci 4011 homework. The salt is important to my productivity.
http://www.donosborn.com/walt_mink/walt_mink.htm
Un dernier coup pour le peuple
Dude, there is like no mention of the Walt Mink show on the net.
Yes, I am having trouble sleeping.
When shall I wear my Walk Mink shirt again?
Ash Tree (not post-show, but whatever)
Thank you for tasting like wonderful Christmas Trees.
I hope to steal some of this code to put album art up on my music page. Uh, I mean borrow. Or something. I really should go to bed now.
My camera was broken, so I will have to share other people’s photos. Look, there’s my head in the lower left!
You don’t want to see my mug, but I bought a shirt, so you gotta see me in it.
Maybe if you are all really nice to me I will relate the fucking orgasmic time I had at the Triple Rock. Hint: I could have jumped and touched John Kimbrough, and my leprosy would have been CURED. Just like that.
I gotta figure out what I can put my Walt Mink sticker on. What will I have for a long enough time that is of enough value to be graced with that sticker?
Note to self: what the hell is going on with Valley Lodge? This is plainly NOT Walt Mink. Sigh. I will just have to go out and buy additional copies of Colossus and possibly El Producto, as well as my first copy of Bareback Ride.
I think that the ROCK high is starting to wear off, so maybe I will be able to sleep. Will I take off the t-shirt? Ever?
When I was younger I heard tell of a band with two bass players. “Do tell!” I said, and forced my mother’s then boyfriend to help me order a CD from such a band through the now defunct Northern Lights record store. Mother FUCKER that’s indie, yo. Anyway, I enjoyed the album, even though I didn’t get all of it. Later, I sucked up everything that they outputted (including one album on cassette, which was a MISTAKE, because now I can’t enjoy it, since it is in the garage in a tub that is meant to fit under ones bed, but instead is in the aforementioned home for cars, which is too small to accomodate said tub and a vehicle). When they broke up (sad) I switched to Firewater, which is also THE AWESOME, but in a different way. Eventually I picked up the Red Expendables, but, uh, it wasn’t the same. So be it.
Anyway, even though I enjoyed the albums of Cop Shoot Cop, I don’t think that I really appreciated them until just recently. Anyway, I enjoyed the company of a friend tonight, but bookended it by singing along to a particular CSC song very loudly in my car. THIS IS WHY WE HAVE CARS. Cars aren’t for transportation, they are moving receptacles for loud singing.
Looking for a bar to burn
Waiting for the tide to turn
Some people never learn
And I should know
It isn’t really as bad as all that. I just knew that I would end up playing a role, but that role would not be a starring one, and that would be kind of sucky. Still, it’s only when I’m very drunk that I feel like my spleen is being ripped out, and only when Paul is a jerk and asks me stuff that he knows (theoretically) will gut me. Maybe he doesn’t know because he’s too busy lighting the engines on fire and crashing feverishly into the nearby mountains. I understand that he will not be enjoying the spirits the weekend after next, and that’s a shame, because that would be a reasonably good time to fire up the Team Kickass drink wagon and drive it from Dinkytown to the West Bank or wherever.
Anyway, I’m mostly upset because I had to ask my dad for help getting a book for the class in which I am currently enrolled. I didn’t want to ask him. I mean, I don’t like asking anyone for help, but he’s really the last resort. Happy fucking father’s day.
No, I’m not drunk, I’m just reasonably confident that he doesn’t have a half decent computer at his house, and the only family member who reads my blog (besides Lisa) is a cousin on my mom’s side. Sure, there’s a pile of fucking drama there, but that has little to do with anything that I’m talking about right now, so we can all just take a chill pill and leave that shit behind us.
Yes, it was a vaguely crappy day, despite some interesting javascript at work and a little vindication since I was able to implement part of a thing quickly due to strategic foresight and planning. Okay, every day I clench up tight because coding is taking far longer than I expect, even when I stay on task, which, as the days creep by, I am doing more and more. I mean, sure I put Strong Bad on in the background, but I wasn’t watching it. Crap. Not to sound like certain self-doubting friends of mine, but I’m totally getting fired.
CSci 4011 has been fairly fun so far, for the two classes that I have taken. It seems a bit like unraveling regular expressions from the inside out - starting at the theoretical. I understand that it is 5011 where one actually uses regular expression, but one has to walk before one can jump.
I ran into a TA from my first semester back who is summering as a custodian. I viewed his resume, and it all made me very sad. I’m fairly sure that he won’t read my blog, but if so, man, I’m fucking sorry. I’d give you my job but I need it. Also, I’m more experienced? Well, I’m certainly older. Thank you thefacebook.com for all my stalking needs.
Not that I’m stalking anyone.
Crap.
I should go to bed before I say anything more embarrassing.
If you’re wondering, the CD is a mix that I made to assist in the removal and replacement of my flawed… uh… heart… thing. Installation is the reverse of removal. Tighten all bolts to ninety foot pounds of torque in the star pattern illustrated on page 23 of this manual.
- Kip
- So, are you ready?
- Napoleon
- Yeah. Hold on. I forgot to put in the crystals.
Kay, turn it on.
Kill–
the pow–
Kill–
Turn it off!
Turn it off, Kip!
It’s a piece of crap. It doesn’t work.- Rico
- Well, I could’ve told you that.
40 queries. 0.089 seconds.
Walt Mink on stage