November 2011
1 post
In Which I Am Mad At My Central Nervous System
Oh-ho! Looks like someone just got their copy of Skyward Sword! I bet you can’t wait to play it, huh? Look at it—sitting there all golden and shiny. Man.
Here’s the thing though, you useless brain: you can’t play it. No. Because you’re going to write something first. Anything. You can’t play it because you have spent two days listlessly sloshing around in my skull, while I have been trying to...
August 2011
1 post
In Which I Rap Battle @ajpiano
Wilto
But let’s stop this—try a topic with less awfulness. It’s @Wilto from Twitter, threatnin’ to punch your esophagus. Arguing semantics and trollin’ on all the haters. Droppin’ the dopest stylistics—all of the rest r alligators. [OH!] Oh snao™. Thought that I was finished? I’m back; look at me now. Writin’ these baffling lyrics and hittin’ on every mark. Drunken killing machine—call...
April 2011
1 post
March 2011
2 posts
In Which I am Married to the Sea
The following is an excerpt from an email chain about an upcoming canoeing trip:
I won’t beat around the bush here, men: I will not be an easy Captain to serve under. I will do little-to-no work. I will drink most-to-all of the beer. I will bark commands constantly, some of which may or may not be vaguely nautical-sounding nonsense such as “buttress the keel-jibber.” Be assured...
February 2011
2 posts
“I’m just tryin’ to stay above water, y’know? Just stay busy, stay workin’…...”
– Notorious BIG
December 2010
1 post
In Which I Am Irrationally Upset About Tapas
Wilto: It cannot compete with Razzy’s.
Kassie: Not for atmosphere, no.
Wilto: Nor affordability. Nor popcorn quality.
Kassie: There is no popcorn. One place gives out free tapas.
Wilto: Ridiculous. I don't want a stupid bowl of tiny potatoes with my beer. I want popcorn smothered in weird powdered chemicals.
Kassie: …
Wilto: “Tapas are dumb,” is what I’m getting at.
Kassie: Tapas are delicious.
Wilto: “Tapas is?”
Kassie: Good question.
Wilto: Is “tapas” the concept of stupid tiny potatoes—is it the goddamned philosophy of unsatisfying food portions? Or can I order one… Tapas? A tapa? Like, “I’ll just have a single tapa, please. I filled up on other molecules on my way over.”
Kassie: It’s a bunch of appetizers.
Wilto: So basically “tapas” is a lifestyle choice wherein one brings me irritating amounts of food.
Kassie: Also, patatas bravas are delicious.
Wilto: Holy Christ what is that even. “Brief potatoes?” That sounds like tapas, alright: “enjoy this three gram serving of baked potato, for it is fleeting.”
Kassie: They are potatoes with spicy sauce.
Wilto: Well I hate them.
Kassie: Good, more for me.
November 2010
1 post
JS Comment Trick
I learned this trick at this year’s jQuery Conference—it’s a quick toggle for commenting out blocks of code, by adding a single forward slash.
This runs as usual:
//*/
$('input').value('boston, ma');
$('form').trigger('submit');
//*/
This comments out the block of code:
/*/
$('input').value('boston, ma');
$('form').trigger('submit');
//*/
It’s handy for switching a...
August 2010
1 post
“I like to drink before I go to sleep, drink a lot of coffee before I go to...”
– Steven Wright, Coffee and Cigarettes
July 2010
2 posts
“My mind rebels at stagnation. Give me problems, give me work, give me the most...”
– Sherlock Holmes
It’s the honky tonk women. Give me, give me,...
June 2010
3 posts
“Your pain is the breaking of the shell
that encloses your understanding.
It is...”
– Kahlil Gibran
The Eldritch Nightmare of and
Jess: what happens if you open with and close with ?
Wilto: You will awake that night to a dull scraping sound, growing ever louder. A widening crack will appear in your wall, from which inky black tendrils will lash out at you—from which I will emerge, my face twisted in pain, suspended like a lurching, seizing marionette. Your screams will fall upon deaf ears, for I am possessed of a madness that is not my own—I have become a vehicle of dark retribution, stripped of any trace of the humanity I once had. You have played at God, Jess, and there is a penance to be paid.
Dan Marquis
There’s a paternally inherited know-it-all gene passed down through the entire Marquis family line. If there’s something to be done, there is no possible way it would be done to our exacting standards if we were to let someone else do it. You get two such people staring down the barrels of power tools at something that needs doing, it ends poorly. My old man and I rarely went more than...