Written on Wednesday, the 21st of May, 2003 at 2:05 am and was filed under:
Wallowing
In an almost Dicksensien turn, a secret benefactor paid for my domain name. He told me not to feel guilty for renewing my domain name. Should I feel guilty for wanting to spend it on bus fare to get to my temp job? No! Vanity and pride will prevail and I will maintain jpmullan.com and all that name implies.
If you're wondering, the money was because I am hosting nightly builds (CVS snapshots) of the gallery source code. The funny part is that after I initially set up the cron job there was very little actual work on my part beyond the occasional cleanup of extra versions. Of course, I made the decision a long time ago never to be too prideful to accept a gift. Thank you, mysterious benefactor!
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Written on Wednesday, the 21st of May, 2003 at 1:07 am and was filed under:
Diversions
Joss Whedon rules. Go watch the Buffy finale!
This week on Buffy:
INT. SUMMERS' HOME - DINING ROOM - NIGHT
Giles sits at the table with Xander. There is a pile of books and plans before us, so we can't see the map they are referring to. AMANDA looks on, and an ND potential. They are tired, but earnest.
GILES: I've gotten turned around. You're here.
XANDER: By the pillar, yeah. I'm protecting this area.
GILES: That puts me here. By the door. Demons around the perimeter… right. So I open the door.
Widen to find ANDREW, reading from an old rule book with some handwritten notes on loose leaf. And, oh, yeah, he's wearing a red cloak, hood up.
ANDREW: You go through the door… you are confronted by Trogdor the Burninator.
GILES: Bugger all. Fight.
Giles rolls ten-sided dice.
ANDREW: Adios to five hit points. Trogdor has badly wounded you.
GILES: What about my bag of illusions?
ANDREW: Illusions? Against a burninator?
(chuckles)
Silly, silly British man.
AMANDA: I invoke a time flux on Trogdor.
ANDREW: Step down, girlfriend, you can't just –
AMANDA: Ninth level sorcerer, and I carry the emerald chalice. Trogdor is frozen in time, deal with it.
XANDER: Smackdown on red riding hood ! This could get ugly.
GILES: Could it possibly get uglier? I used to be a highly respected Watcher. Now I'm a wounded dwarf with the mystical strength of a doily.
(rubs his eyes)
I wish I could just sleep.
AMANDA: What kind of person could sleep on a night like this?
WIDEN to find Anya, head on the table, snoring away. Xander puts a hand on her head, affectionately.
XANDER: Only the crazy ones.
By the way, I think that this means that I should go to bed.
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