One trip around the sun doesn't repair everything

It’s been precisely one year since I acted upon one of the most difficult decisions I’ve ever made.  She still doesn’t have anything to do with me.

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My brief adventure with the legal system

“I have the kind of backside that screams (figuratively), ‘yup.  If you’re facing charges of rape, you definitely don’t want me on your jury panel.'”

I was summoned for jury duty last week.  I turned up and spent most of the day twiddling my thumbs in what is essentially a large waiting room.  In the afternoon I was finally selected for potential involvement in a rape trial, estimated to last two weeks.  My number was called out in the courtroom; I was to be the final juror.  The accused then objected to my inclusion on the jury panel, and so I was sent home.

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Just save the damn data

I’ve never been able to find address book software that functions quite the way I would like it to.  As a result, I’ve often considered writing my own.  But I never quite get there, because I end up generalising my ideas to the point where I have something that isn’t even an address book any more—even though that thing is still kinda cool.  And I do wonder whether that thing already exists in some online form.

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Getting a little too domestic

You know that things are going downhill for you as a young male when:

  1. you look forward to getting home so you can vacuum the house;
  2. you get excited at the idea of learning how to fold fitted sheets;
  3. you dream at night that you somehow found a way to rid the walls of those stubborn scuff marks; and
  4. you sadden when you realise that it was indeed just a dream.

Likened to a Locust: another attempt, another approach

“If I liken you to a locust, I’m probably not trying to be nice.  Then again, if I liken you to a locust, I probably have quite a good reason.  Just a heads-up.”

This is an amusing quip I made on Facebook recently under the influence of heavy fatigue.  It’s the only thing I’ve written recently that sounded remotely suitable for the title of this, my fourth online journal incarnation.

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I wish I could tag my music like I tag my photos

The software I use to manage my photos is awesome; everything essentially sits in a single folder with no special naming, and the photos have “tags” (like Alex, Footscray, Kebabbage, Engrish, Moustache) associated with them.  No need to organise photos by their single most prominent trait; you can slap on as many tags as you like.

Finding photos is simple; you just work out what tags are relevant and then form a search query out of them: get me all photos taken within Balwyn featuring my two sisters, myself and a wheel of Brie—but no possums.  If you’ve been prudent with your tagging when you add photos, this works perfectly every time.

I wish the same could be done for music. More »

Directionally dyslexic train drivers

This is the second time I’ve been on a train at Camberwell and the driver has opened the doors on the wrong side of the train.  The thought process that must take place in the driver’s head during the entire transaction befuddles me.

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Heads up: Apache 1.3 removed from Debian

Have you upgraded your Debian installation from Etch to Lenny?  I have.  Are you somewhat surprised to find things breaking because the apache-perl binary has disappeared?  I was.

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Targeted advertising win runs a semi-regular game where a photo is posted and people compete to submit the funniest caption for it.  Take a look at the archives to get an idea of the pictures and captions submitted in the past.

At some point it was decided that archived entries should feature a banner ad between their photos and their captions.  I don’t think these ads were ever expected to trump the user-submitted captions in awesomeness though.

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On handling lost property

The other day I discovered just how much of other people’s junk we have lying around at the DP desk, and I figured we needed to do something about it.  When I got home that day, creativity struck and this was the result:

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