Steve's hot dog has ridden the following “metros”:

Steve's hot dog has flown on the following “airlines”:

Would you put Steve's hot dog in your mouth?

Lars, I realize that some people consider argumentation with references and citations to be more sophisticated and valid than messages with actual content, but it is, more often than not, irritating, lame, and disingenuous.

This reference proves the point.

I dined with some lit. fags, and so I got to hear all about which establishments had been raided lately, and about the intricacies of Gay Purim, and about some girl who did biographical research on Wordsworth and concluded that he was a really happy guy. I stared at them disbelievingly when they told me that reading the Da Vinci Code would keep me entertained for a couple hours. They stared at me when I told them that Bernie and Vecchio were at Lincoln Center with a bunch of teenagers. At the time, none of us knew that a Presbyterian church was holding classes on “unlocking the Da Vinci Code”. Of course, the word “church” near “Da Vinci” reminds me that Da Vinci was gay, and well, check out how many google hits there are for da vinci gay hanky code I'm going to be so disappointed if I ever find out what the Da Vinci Code really is.

We shoveled our mouths full of 花椒. Well, it was fake; probably we were consuming 山椒, but we'll never know for certain. It was still better than I had anticipated. It has been said that I should pick up a copy of The Chinese Kitchen by Eileen Yin-Fei Lo. There is a tenuous alternate link between “Eileen” and Cantonese food, but not one that will be obvious to anyone reading, not even to a загадочной нелатвийской душе.

Now Annie wants Purse to blog, but there are several metaphorically-crenelated okols which are getting in the way, and that's a shame, but sometimes it's better to stop fighting things and just let them roll right over you. Sometimes it's not. Annie can't possibly know whether or not disturbing the balance will be catastrophic, but she can guess.

I wonder if Béla Fleck has ever played Bizarre Love Triangle on the banjo.

All you silly people who think that AJ wants to release etch before it's ready because he's accepting bribes from large corporations, take note.

Sven has deduced that the DPL's underhanded politicking is actually intended to delay etch indefinitely.

Really, why would any corporation have any interest in Debian's release cycle? I can't possibly think of a single reason.

Normally I ignore everything I read. The following communiqué is no exception. Count the apostrophes. Count 'em good.

you're next-to-latest blog entry was almost incomprehensible
either that or i'm stupid, but it can't be that

This chick appeared out of nowhere and started mackin' on me, which I didn't expect given that I was soaking wet and my hair probably looked silly. She was a bit young, though she wasn't wearing one of those fabled “Grope me; I'm legal” T-shirts that I've heard so much about.

Then her boyfriend walked in. I could tell that he was her boyfriend because as soon as she spotted him she shouted, « OH MY GOD WE WERE JUST TALKING! » and proceeded to pretend I didn't exist. I draw several conclusions from that outburst. In this instance, “several” refers to a number between 1 and 460,000.

So I ended up talking to a fat, aging homo. He said quaint things like « I have no personality until I walk into a room. Then I perform for the audience. I act. » He told me about “spy school” in Langley, and Venezuelan panic rooms.

He asked if I had a blog. I said that I had several. In this instance, “several” refers to a number between 1 and 10. He expressed shock and surprise and told me that I didn't seem the blogger type. I took this to be a compliment.

Then he gave me $10 Canadian. Am I the only person who keeps only appropriate currency on-hand?

Phil, I don't know what crazy poker variant you're talking about, but I'll pretend that I do. Player B should have gone all-in, called, or STFU after folding. If all-in protection were meant to extend to everyone at the table, then betting would stop immediately after the first all-in.

So K. called me a brat, and rightly so. Now I could go on about the bizarre dysfunctional ways A. and M. keep trying to drag me into their extramarital insanity, but that would be overuse of initials. I could tell you about Fatslaps and his plans to splatter Harry with onions, but Harry is whimpering just about the right amount. I'm talking about Harry, not Harry. I could do a Marxist literary criticism of The Garbage Pail Kids Movie, but something disturbing happened to me, indirectly leading me to have a flashback.

It was another century, though not more than a couple miles away. As with all “progress”, some things are better now, and some things are worse. Maybe that's just how I see it. It's stereotypically geriatric to reminisce about the past, accentuating the positive, but it's stereotypically me to only comment on the negative. So in the interest of stalling, here comes a mélange of the two. Value judgments are left as an exercise for the reader, assuming the prostitute/lover question isn't still getting top billing.

Warren Zevon was still alive. Nouvelle Vague hadn't released any albums yet. I only knew one person who spoke Brazilian Portuguese. I hadn't seen Rent yet. I used to eat a lot more Colombian food. I refused to eat tomatoes. Actually, I ate quite a few things then that I don't now, and quite a few things now that I didn't then. I don't remember what I ate that night, but it wasn't “Kraft dinner”; I'm sure of that.

I know because I went to see a free concert as performed by the Barenaked Ladies. The concert was free because they were almost completely unknown. I was introduced to them a while before, by a dirty, dirty slut who squealed with delight because the lyrics featured words such as “erection”. It took me years of recovery to be able to appreciate that song. Years. If she hadn't, I would have found out about them through Minna Bromberg because she does a cover.

One of the people I was with shouted out to Steven Page, calling him by the wrong name. If being a starstruck poseur weren't enough cause, I think the error would have made me implode from embarrassment. He took it on the chin.

I know this Canadian who keeps telling the same tired old story that the Barenaked Ladies is the only Canadian band to ever become famous outside of Canada. He uses this dubious claim to segue into his bit about how The Tragically Hip is really popular in Canada, but unknown everywhere else. I tell him that I've heard of The Tragically Hip. He doesn't believe me. I try telling him that I've never heard of Moxy Früvous or Rush, at which point he breaks down and admits that everyone has heard of Rush. Then we repeat the conversation a month later.

So BNL did get all famous and mainstream and STUFF. That night, they urged everyone in the audience to promote them so they could GET PAID and sell out to The Man. I must confess not comprehending their earnestness and the gravity of the situation. I also never expected them to be played on Z100. Boycott ClearChannel. They're sellouts now, but they weren't then, and a good time was had by all.

At the time, If I Had $1000000 might've been their most popular song. AS SUCH, the more rabid fans in the audience had brought boxes and boxes of macaroni & cheese, as well as a stuffed monkey or two. These items were flung at the stage, at appropriate times, frightening the band. I don't believe that anyone threw a green dress.

Now, Canadians are funny people. They like to flap their heads and do medleys and covers and rap gratuitously in the middle of concerts. Well, Rush doesn't, but Moxy Früvous and BNL do, and that's enough for me to make a sweeping generalization, because Rush can be disqualified purely on the mullet factor.

You probably don't know this, but If I Had $1000000 is a song which gets a lot of variation and perhaps improv. For example, the owner of the “remains” will vary, and they'll vamp the introduction with the lyrics of some other song. You can hear it on the Rock Spectacle album, where they lead in with Grade 9. That night they did Prince's Raspberry Beret. We swooned.

We swooned.

We were occupying the entire park bench when the strange girl approached. She was strange in the sense that we had never seen her before; in the grand scheme of things she was not all that strange. I mean, she was wearing bellbottoms, which was not the norm, and her feet were caked with mud, which might have indicated inclinations toward being a neo-hippie, and while that might be pretentious and lame, it's not all that strange, considering.

Eying the occupants of the bench, she asked if any of our laps were free. The art of sitting on someone's lap is largely a lost one; I don't know where people learn the proper technique, but I do know that most people don't even know it exists to be learned. I know that I was surprised when it was revealed to me.

Anyway, I never discovered whether or not she knew how to properly sit on a lap, because we all kinda glanced at each other and told her to fuck off. Two days later, she was screwing the guy to my right.

That didn't last long. Neither did her mode of dress or her behavior. She lopped off her long, brown hair, bleached it blond, and got a few facial piercings. She started doing heroin and boasting that she gave the best blowjobs in a certain geographical region. She shacked up with a girl named after an invertebrate. I'm guessing that she didn't continue on to greatness.

Then there was another strange girl. She was strange because she was stuck in the 50's. She was also as dumb as a rock, so the only two interesting things about her were her 50's fetish and her profoundly deep bass voice. When I say she was stuck in the 50's, I don't mean that she lived through them and failed to move on. I mean that she wore saddle shoes, sported memorabilia from the golden age of rock and roll, and became very hostile when anyone challenged her adamant insistence that no good music was ever produced after 1959.

Her sister was a model, also as dumb as a rock, and with the same freakishly low voice. Her sister was also a giant slut. In contrast, 50's Girl publicly had sex with a 50-year-old guy while his wife and kids were in Virginia. Having sex in public is generally bad form. I know this because the last time I tried to have sex in a moving vehicle, the driver forbade it. Actually what she said was that we weren't allowed to have sex in her car until she had done so first. Then she proceeded to never have sex in that car, which I thought was a rather rude and deceptive practice.

Anyway, 50's Girl met this schmuck with spiky hair, piercings and tattoos galore, combat boots, and a penchant for crashing motorcycles. Really, you didn't need to look far below the surface to know that he was a festering douchebag, but if you did, you would find out that he was a pathological liar and backstabbing snake.

They hit it off, and just like that, the 50's persona was cast to the wind. She dyed her hair some sickly color, started dressing in leather and listening to hardcore. Her elderly friend, who had little trouble relating to clinging to the 50's, now suddenly found herself in the position of possibly needing to get herself a subscription to some kind of magazine.

Not too far away, a lollergirl took a break from plumping up and spotted a ticket. If you were lucky, she told you about it.

After consulting with my business manager, my publicist, and my wiccan stormtrooper brigade, I have unilaterally decided to make this limited-time offer. For US$15,000, a lucky donor can request stylesheet changes for arch.debian.org. For US$25,000, an enterprising young individual can get the default ArchZoom theme changed. For a moderate surcharge, the donor may secure anonymity, and I will claim that I am acting randomly in Debian's best interests.

Any commissioned changes will be locked in for 3 months or until someone else pays more money. Obviously I have to milk the revenue stream here or this won't be a viable business model and I really don't want to have to call this a failed experiment.

To anyone who might be calling this idea the height of corruption, I say this: anyone is welcome to do the same thing. If you care enough, just secure your own contracts and go ahead and change the stylesheet yourself. Of course, if you request access to do so, I will have to oppose it for completely-unrelated reasons, and possibly apply for an injunction to prevent the Alioth admins from making any foolish access changes. After all, interfering with my profit potential is a crime here in America.

Get your payments in fast!

« Have you seen this? » he demanded.

« Yes, » I replied.

« Girls in other cities smile at you for no reason! » he declaimed.

« Yes, » I replied.

« They're just being friendly! » he concluded.

« Yes, » I replied.

« I had to pay $23 for this goddamn thing or I wouldn't be able to do this, » she complained.

« Wow! » I exclaimed. « I thought that those were illegal. »

« They are! » she confirmed. « Why the fuck do you think I had to pay $23? »

The following Code of Business Conduct ('the Code') has not been approved by the Board of Directors of Debian, SPI, or any U.N. committees:

Debian and its subsidiary companies operate in many different markets and countries throughout the world. In most instances, we respect national laws and industry codes of conduct.

We, the directors and employees of all companies under the Debian umbrella ('corrupt fuckers'), recognize our obligations to all who have a stake in our success including shareowners, clients, employees, and suppliers, unless those obligations run counter to our profitability;

Information about our business shall be communicated clearly, and accurately in a non-discriminatory manner and in accordance with local regulations, unless doing so would impact negatively our profitability;

We select and promote employees on the basis of their willingness to support our aims and their potential for profitability, without discrimination or concern for race, religion, national origin, creed, sex, sexual orientation, age, disability, or scruples, as long as doing so would improve our profitability;

We believe that the Debian mailing lists should be safe and civilized; we will not tolerate sexual harassment, discrimination or offensive behavior of any kind, which includes the persistent demeaning of individuals through words or actions, the display or distribution of offensive material, or the questioning of our integrity, unless such tolerance would improve our profitability;

We will not use, possess or distribute illegal drugs or software, unless doing so would improve our profitability;

We will treat all information relating to Debian's business, or to its clients, as confidential. In particular, 'insider trading' is expressly prohibited and confidential information must not be used for personal gain, unless such personal gain is acceptable to at least two of the persons involved;

We will not knowingly create work which contains statements, suggestions or images offensive to general public decency and will give appropriate consideration to the impact of our work on minority segments of the population, whether that minority be by race, religion, national origin, creed, sex, sexual orientation, age, disability or scruples, unless that minority can be safely ignored without damaging our bottom line;

We will not for personal or family gain directly or indirectly engage in any activity which competes with companies within the Debian umbrella or with our obligations to any such company;

We will not offer any items of personal inducement to secure business. This is not intended to prohibit appropriate entertainment, the making of occasional gifts of minor value, or any monetary contributions transferred through PayPal, unless the client has a policy which restricts this;

No corporate contributions of any kind, including the provision of services or materials for less than the market value, may be made to politicians, political parties or action committees, without the prior written approval of the DPL and a clear assessment of the rate of return on the investment; and we will comply with all applicable local laws and regulations, and any other laws with an international reach, such as the US Foreign Corrupt Practices Act, where relevant;

We will disclose fully to the DPL the nature and all relevant details of inducements paid to us by external parties, whether or not such inducements affect our judgments and actions, and we will accord the DPL a percentage of such inducements for use in re-election campaigns or discretionary spending;

When we engage in bookmaking, the standard vig should be 10%, and any exceptions should be appealed to the Racketeering Committee, a self-selecting committee with no external oversight;

We will not NMU or hijack any packages if the maintainer is refusing to act on said packages as part of a negotiation for inducements;

We will not underbid our colleagues in the midst of such negotiations;

We will always assume that any inaction or incompetence is due to such negotiations, whether or not that has been disclosed, as it is often the wish of the persons involved to keep such dealings hush-hush;

We will spout trite falsehoods such as “We are all volunteers here”, and “At some point you just have to trust people”, as a standard business practice;

We will avoid sarcasm at all costs.

Inappropriate while driving 30mph - Barracuda

Inappropriate while driving 40mph - Lido Shuffle

Inappropriate while driving 85mph - Right Now

Inappropriate while driving erratically in an illegally-modded car - 15 gallons of combustible liquids in the trunk.

Inappropriate to publish on the Internet - The writings of a Hunter College student

Ola and Kari Dunk stared down the vale and the vale stared back with contempt. « That would look so much better with a six-lane highway lined with strip malls! » they declared, and plunged down the hillside until they came to the hobbithole of The Right Reverend Mr.-or-Mrs. Frump.

« Frump, » they said, « We're gonna build a six-lane highway lined with strip malls right through here! Aren't you totally excited or some junk? »

« What? Right here? You want to demolish my hobbithole and my Creek of Piety? » Frump demanded.

« Like, yeah, » the Dunks replied. « But you'll have a new, better house. We'll get you a double-wide trailer and bolt it to the side of an Arby's and it'll be totally radical. »

« Um, that doesn't sound better, » grumped Frump.

« Yeah, it'll be awesome, » the Dunks continued. « But if you don't like it, there's no problem. We'll just demolish your double-wide and get you a pre-fab polystyrene shack that you can staple to the side of a Borders. Anyhoo, you have no choice, so you might as well just embrace it! »

As they moved down the line, they encountered people who were willing to part with their homes for a promise of progress, and people who were more resistant than The Right Reverend Mr.-or-Mrs. Frump.

Days passed, and on each day a few people would climb to the Dunks' château and plead with them not to demolish their homes, and on each day some people would circuit the homes of the vale, offering various opinions.

One group comprised Fulano, Mengano, and Zutano, and one one occasion this group bivouacked on the prow of the hobbitboat Sloop Johnny Five. When Frangelico Admiral Lady Bernard da Gamboa approached to confront the trespassers, Fulano shouted, « Ha! Ha! You are being divisive and not a team player! » and Mengano shouted, « Ha! Ha! You are fucking assholes for being uncooperative and preventing us from getting a Filene's Basement! Why can't you just submit to the demolition and see what happens? It can't possibly be that bad! » and Zutano said, « Ha! Ha! This is not in actuality a sloop! » and Frangelico Admiral Lady Bernard da Gamboa chased them overboard with a sugar cane.

Up in the château, the Dunks were negotiating real estate contracts. « This is totally gonna be good for the vale! » said the Dunks, and Fast Food Franchiser LeRoy said, « Damn right it's gonna be good for the... for the what? » and Corporate Conrad said, « Look, we need to get this construction underway before the end of the fiscal year, or there's gonna be trouble, so let's get this done soon, a'ight? »

So the Dunks donned their Amulets of Eminent Domain and waltzed deftly into the vale and muttered, « Look, um, we can't build this highway all by ourselves, so you're gonna have to help us. »

Fulano, Mengano, and Zutano cheered. « Karel Novak, go help Ola and Kari, while we argue about politics on Usenet! » they cheerfully suggested, and Karel Novak joined the Dunks.

Frump and da Gamboa gestured obscenely toward the demolitionists.

Janez Novak (no relation to Karel) screamed out, « HOW CAN YOU BE SO RUDE TO YOUR FELLOW HUMAN BEINGS? THEY HAVEN'T DONE ANYTHING TO DESERVE THAT! THEY ARE JUST TRYING TO HELP YOU! ANYHOO, THERE HAS BEEN CONSTRUCTION IN THE VALE BEFORE; HOW DO YOU THINK YOUR HOMES WERE BUILT? », Jon Dilianger-Heys prepared a nice mushroom salad, and Corporate Conrad tapped her watch.

Well, she didn't look as pretty as some others I have known, and she wasn't good at conversation when we were alone, but she had a way of making me believe that I belonged, and it felt like coming home when I found her.

She seemed to be so proud of me just walking, holding hands, and she didn't think that money was the measure of a man, and we seemed to fit together when I held her in my arms, and it left me feeling warm, when I loved her.

Because she brightened up the day like the early morning sun, and she made what I was doing seem worthwhile—It's the closest thing to living that I guess I've ever known, and it made me want to smile, when I loved her.

I know some of us were born to cast our fortunes to the winds, and I guess I'm bound to travel down a road that never ends, but I know I'll never look upon the likes of her again, and I'll never understand why I lost her.

I am only doing this because Erich horrified me with a two-awk pipeline. So one system for each invocation of awk:

% print -l -- ${(o)history%%[ |]*} | uniq -c | sort -nr | head -n 10
    271 cd
    233 sudo
    221 rm
    215 more
    185 ls
    163 dict
    151 apt-cache
    128 vi
    110 tla
    108 grep

% print -l -- ${(o)history%%[ |]*} | uniq -c | sort -nr | head -n 10
    124 sudo
    112 cd
     97 ls
     73 zomg
     33 man
     32 apt-cache
     26 rmadison
     22 grep
     21 vi
     18 tla

This is no good if you have HIST_IGNORE_DUPS or HIST_IGNORE_ALL_DUPS set.

precmd () {
  [[ ${#${(M)${${(v)history}[1,20]}:%w}} -gt 10 ]] && figlet Stop typing w
}

Wow.

Sam, French people don't understand irony, so I know you didn't write this on purpose.

« Why the fuck are they calling me? » I demanded.

« They saw your classified in Aquatic Mammal Fancier, » he answered.

« I have my doubts, » I confessed.

« You're weirder than Kool Keith, » he replied.