I’m still uploading my entire 36 gigabyte gallery to my new web server. It’s taking forever, for suitable definitions of forever.
I asked Google how long it would take.
((36 - 22) * gigabytes) / (20 (kilobytes per second)) = 8.49540741 days
Thanks, Google.
Gettin’ Paid, gettin’ rich
My team did… not well… in the programming contest today. I missed the opening at the Minnesota Center for/of/near Photography. I’m gonna go play Trivial Pursuit to make up for it.
I feel kind of bad for not being prepared for Stan’s birthday yestertoday. That’s right, I just made up a word that means the day before the day that it technically is when you’re still awake from the day before and most people haven’t woken up for todaymorrow. I think that todaymorrow defines itself. Maybe I should go to sleep.
Stan is like the big brother that I should have had. I hope that he likes his two CDs of Death From Above 1979 goodness. Now he can rock OUT while washing the dishes.
Maybe I should wash the dishes for his birthday, too — or for any reason. Man, I’m the worst roommate ever.
Happy birthday, Stan! <3 <3 <3
This was for the “abstract” assignment. How arty!
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I got a flu shot today. Zach came in even though he was sick because he hungered for brains. I locked him out and barred the door, telling Kamran to stay quiet and maybe Zach would go eat a designer instead.
I recently started logging what people are searching for when they come to my site. I know, when people post search strings they are usually boring, but let’s just pretend that these are questions that are being asked of me, and answer them.
This summer I started on a journey to rebuild the Whole Music Club’s website. It now features custom labelling of shows and bands with media management and stuff like that. Basically I beat my head against the data for a while and pooped out the back end code. Zach took the superstructure that I had built and laid some sweet html, css, and javascript on top of it. Our edifice that we erected (our erection, if you will) has already garnered praise from the staff and at least one band.
I wish that Paul had been here to hit it with the style hammer, though. Paul totally rules.
Lisa and Stan went to a murder mystery thing with Stan’s family. For some reason they dressed up and were covered in blood when they came home. Uh oh.
Stan is a motherfucking P I M P.
Like I wish I were with you?
Jesse, get your ass over here!
Renee and Dean sent me a lovely picture from their phone, perhaps rubbing it in that they live in most people’s definition of paradise — or maybe just reminding me that I have to get my pale butt to Hawaii. Lisa is going in January. Lucky.
Well, uh, heh. If you obsessively read my Myspace page (I read yours hourly, so I expect you to do the same) then you might have seen Butler leave a somewhat cryptic comment:
Yo, what up, what up, what up? Nice to see you on the Internets. P.S. You’re prominently featured in some of the rough footage from Mpls. Prepare yourself. — Butler
He is referring to the concert footage from the Walt Mink reunion show at the Triple Rock, where I was standing near the stage and rocking the hell out. So, when the documentary about Walt Mink is finished (or they just throw some show footage on You Tube) you will be able to see me sweaty and throwing the horns (or whatever embarrassing thing I was doing).
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