Damn

So one of the various entertainment newsletters I get by email had the headline, "Combs signs up for reality tv show." And I got all excited -- Herbert West himself! Michael J Fox's nemesis in The Frighteners! Jonathan Crane! Who wouldn't want to see how creepy his daily life is?

But no. It's Sean Combs, the gangster from Made (who also apparently makes crappy rap albums that completely sample Police songs and take full advantage of dead friends, and shtups that girl from Anaconda on the side).

Who cares about him?

Sheesh.

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Finished the Macworld keynote (and had to attend a real meeting right afterwards).

iSync looks nifty, although I'm happier about the Palm aspect than the cell phone part for now.

17" iMac looks nice. Damned nice. As fucking powerful as my desktop.

iTunes 3 rocks.

A MacOSX version of Realplayer -- it's about damned time.

Jaguar will be cool, especially since work will pay for it.

.mac sucks ass -- for all the services that are being offered, I just want my basic free mac.com account. Fuck you for taking it away, Steve Jobs. Fuck you with a rusty metal ruler.

Oh, but Rendevous is nifty. :-)

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Crap. Turns out it's nearly 2000 accounts that are hosed. FuckFuckFuck. This is not fun.

Damn.

I just got email from god@god.com.

But it was in chinese.

You'd think God could've translated it to English.

Morbid advertising gimmick of the year

http://www.guardian.co.uk/computergames/story/0,11500,667942,00.html

Actually, I'd bet that Acclaim is just attempting this to gain publicity (without any plans to follow through), in which case I'm just helping them.

*shrug*

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This is still one of my all-time favorite songs (although it's only at its best if you've heard Brenda sing it - if anyone wants to listen, I can probably find a way for the mp3 to appear on your computer, just let me know). Written in 1990, its still nearly perfect today.

Goldfish Don't Talk Back, by Brenda Kahn
( transcribe that folky music, white boy )

(no subject)

So how come the cat never attempts to distract shadesong on her writing nights?

Woohoo!

Five minutes after I plugged the phone back in (not that I don't have more writing in me for the night, but I needed to stretch anyway), James called, and the log file we sent Centrinity had enough information to allow us to actually recover the accounts! Mind you, mail bounced from them for two days, and I could live without the agita, but at least we have a happy ending. And a better one than I'd anticipated a few hours ago.