skeletechnic

Last night, around 12:15 AM (which is prime time for me to be writing or programming), there was a completely random internet outage. This hasn't happened for about three years. So, after staring at my connection icon in shock for a moment, I forced myself to step back, sit-TF-down, and take a few deep breaths. I was present with myself and the world for a...
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I've spent a week now building up and burning down designs for a system; which has to be oh-so-close to the reality of a situation but no closer, has to be enjoyable to use, and has to be modular enough to stick into an arsenal of future projects. I won't bore anybody with the details; but a point comes when I have to declare that...
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For a game in as much of a resource-starved post apocalyptic world as Mad Max, they seem to have one hell of a lot of dog food lying around.

I discovered an antidote for Coca Cola today; but I was paid a small fortune to keep it secret. Twelve whole bucks. That's a lot in 1890s money.

What amazes me is that anyone even allowed a man, with anger management issues like that, onto a spacecraft.

At least confiscate the light saber until the end of the trip. Seriously, he'll asphyxiate everybody.

If you ask me, nightmares are just dreams which are especially good at their job.

This blend is all right, but I'm dubious of any coffee that has to use a holiday as a qualifier.

I keep thinking, are they saying that it's too low quality to sell it any other time of year, or what?

There's a lot to be said for good food, and its power to melt away the problems of the day with each passing bite. I made a Shepard's pie, two crust, the other day; with Dutch gravy and Italian sausage. I don't screw around when I'm cooking; nothing comes out of a can. The peas were frozen (good luck finding them fresh in the middle...
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If learned anything about myself this past Black Friday; it's that for a total misanthrope, I am an excellent salesman.

The rest is just, well, why I'm a total misanthrope.