If you program with Perl and wouldn’t mind completing a Perl programming survey, I’d appreciate it.
Trains to South Africa instead of to Lalor. Magda Szubanski is a station master with an Irish accent, and she’s getting sick of That Guy always speeding through her station disregarding the signals. How dangerous of him! She decides to take matters into her own hands when she sees him rocketing down the rails towards her station once again, and sets all the signals to red. He goes crashing into all of the crossing gates while trying to stop and learns his lesson.
First real risk ever of being pulled over for drug testing, and what happens? The cop who’s selecting the subjects examines me through my windscreen and motions me onward.
We have previously established that my appearance alone (or perhaps the way I walk) tells people that I don’t approve of rape. What is it about the appearance of my upper body that makes me seem so unlikely to drive under the influence of drugs or alcohol?
Mind you, given that the selection process was clearly more than just random, I’m sure I’d be asking the inverse question if I were pulled over. Since I go to no effort to look nice for work though, I think I’d be less surprised in that scenario.
Me: “I should become…A LUMBERJACK!”
Abe: “Haha, you like to vibrate?”
“Wait—what’s a lumberjack?”
Magic Passenger Information Display is immune to photo capture.
20 seconds ago, this sign said 9.45. Now, it says 10.04. Evidently it’s possible for a train to disappear off its tracks halfway to its destination.
Garage door at work closed on me as I was driving through. It won.
Besides a heap of scratching and a broken antenna, the roof is bent to buggery across the entire width of the car. It’s probably not the best idea to have electronic circuitry exposed to the elements like that either.
Really not proving to be a great month.
Oh, the irony. The bittersweet irony.