03/28/2004 - 04/04/2004
Summer course marks are in for yo' homie Dave:
Translation: I fucking sucked. But then again it is UofT Comp Sci so I'm probably lucky I'm not dead. Visual Computing was taught by a grad student from Yark who apparently didn't get the memo about summer courses being easy; Principles of Programming Languages I was acing with a 92+ until the exam which pulled me down bigtime. And databases, while ubiquitous and useful, were not the subject of the last course. The subject matter was more like, "here is a retarded algebra that we've made up to make this subject matter more dense and confusing than it has to be", and "let's do ridiculously difficult toy problems". It was a required course and I'm glad it's over with.
I just saw the Transporter 2. Fucking awesome. It had all the essential components of a good action movie, including:
You get my point. See it.
And good seein' y'all at Einstein's. Sorry I had to jet so quickly, I had promised to move furniture for my mothar before sleeping.
Yesterday I biked out to UFA to get kid bro Dave's timetable and crap. Inside the building there were jillions of ickle hoodlums milling about. I decided I was not about to wait half an hour amidst these types for David's crap, so after talking to Marjorie briefly, I took off.
I roll down the hill on my bike with enough momentum to coast to the intersection. I start to pedal up the hill and switch gears and my chain comes off, something that's never happened before. I pull my brake to stop and fix it and I roll.
So after all that embarrassment and pain, and my glasses almost going down a sewer, I check out my brake. It's been pushed in, so when I pulled it, it jammed in between my spokes. My bike chain also had a bunch of paper clips jammed in it.
Fucking christ. You know, I could have rolled right in front of a car. I could have broken my neck. I could have barrelled through someone. What the fuck. As it is, my heel is swollen and my arms are sore as fuck. My palms are shreaded and I've got abrasions on my elbows and knees, a huge-ass one on my shoulder.
Last night, despite my injuries, I went to see Of Montreal. The opening act sucked balls. Of Montreal was fantastic. I wanted a tshirt but they were 25 bucks. I refuse to pay that much at a concert on principle.
Also I am broke.
So two good blogs both about the New York service industry. Waiter Rant is about the manager at an upscale New Jeresy restaurant (Yes, I know I said "New York". Tri-State Area whatever) and the terrible terrible customers that come in. On the way he offers tips about restauranting. Clublife is somewhat different in that while the Waiter Ranter deals with bad customers by "loosing" their reservations, the guy behind Clublife gets to beat the shit out of people. Ever wanted to see the underbelly of bouncing? Well there's your chance. Very funny accounts of his run-ins with the guidos (New Yorkese for "gino" I guess). And by "funny" I guess you could sub in "infuriating" for him.
Anyway speaking of New York, the New Yorker has a great article on real life (reverse) balderdash. Turns out dictionaries will put in a fake word to be able to track down those who would copy their work and sell it under their name. It was let slip that the new edition of the New Oxford American Dictionary had a fake e-word (that is a word starting with "e" not the latest interweb craze). Senior wordologists narrowed it down to 6 words:
earth loop—n. Electrical British term for GROUND LOOP.
EGD—n. a technology or system that integrates a computer display with a pair of eyeglasses . . . abbreviation of eyeglass display.
electrofish—v. [trans.] fish (a stretch of water) using electrocution or a weak electric field.
ELSS—abbr. extravehicular life support system.
esquivalience—n. the willful avoidance of one’s official responsibilities . . . late 19th cent.: perhaps from French esquiver, “dodge, slink away.”
eurocreep—n. informal the gradual acceptance of the euro in European Union countries that have not yet officially adopted it as their national currency.
So of these words 1 is fake. Post guesses in the comment section (the article has the actually answer, so honour system please).
Early Sunday morning Suge Knight the nefarious founder/owner of Death Row Records was shot at a party hosted by Kanye West. Later that day at the MTV Video Awards Snoop Dogg and Diddy (pka P Diddy, Puff Daddy, Puffy, Sean Combs) did a tribute to Christopher Wallace (aka Biggie, Notorious B.I.G.). It was like a weird revival of the East Coast/West Coast feud.
Okay, for those of you who want to help me move into my apartment on Thursday, here's the skinny. I booked an elevator from 6-7pm to get all my stuff moved up. So if you are going to help, gimme a call at (905) 269-5076, or just be at 500 Murray Ross Pkwy (just below York) at around 6.
Thanks a bunch guys!
New Orleans has sunk.
Also, I am very disappointed in everyone who decided that they had more important things to do then come to see improv yesserday. For shame.
So August is basically over, and after August comes September and with September comes the return to school (for most of us, though not me) and with the return to school comes less free time. So this Saturday, before people ship off to various foreign locales (i.e. Peterborough and Kingston) I think we should have a party/all day bar hop. Whichever works better for people. Don't know where we would do it but we're full of cunning and between us all I'm sure we could figure out something.
On another note yesterday Ben and I were talking and we've decided to start a Capture the Flag league! This should be pretty awesome because only an inhuman bastard couldn't like capture the flag. As a matter of fact on Saturday we should play capture the flag in a park somewhere before/as we get drunk (alco-slurpees work pretty well!)
Who want's to help me move into my apartment on thursday Sept 1st? Don't all volunteer at once...
For those who missed it, my birthday party (or rather, the party that was held on my birthday seeing as no one actually knew that it was my birthday) was awesome. Which reminds me: Box, I stole a CD from you. I don't know what it is, I haven't looked at what's on it, but I guess I'll eventually get it back to you. PS: how's the burn? I really hope it's not festering or anything aweful like that...
Back to my apartment. If anyone actually does want to help, I promise to take you out for drinks after - and I might even buy one for you! You know you want to help, don't deny it! Give me a call on my cell (or just leave a msg here) if you want ot help. (905) 269-5076