RealAge Part 2

It's strange that I feel like a pile of poo, yet I'm "younger" than I was over a year ago.

Need Help Downloading HD Footage

If you are in Regina and you have a computer with a broadband connection and knowledge of bit torrent clients, I need help downloading some files. Nine Inch Nails recently made over 400 GB of raw HD footage of three live concerts available for download via bit torrent. My ISP caps my bandwidth usage at around 50GB/month. 405GB/50GB = 8 months to download all the footage!!

This is obviously crappy and totally not suitable for my plans. There are three concerts, each with multiple camera angles. Each raw file is about 7-9GB. Even if you can download only one, it will help me get all the footage faster. What does this mean for you?? Well if you're a NIN fan, it means you will get a copy of whatever finished product I come up with from the footage I get.

I can't say for sure what I can do with it, because I haven't seen any of it yet. Possibly a three dvd-set or maybe one dvd comprised of the best from each show. Anyway you slice it, whatever I come up with will be cool, and you'll like it. Props to Trent Reznor and crew for giving the geeks of the world make-work projects and excuses to buy bigger hard drives and lots of RAM.

So, if you want to help, let me know. I'll bring my little USB hard drive and dump the files whenever you're done downloading and start assembling everything back on my Mac.

Thanks!

more info here:

http://forum.nin.com/bb/read.php?18,378166

Buttons and Banality

There is a lovely lady who works down at my local laundromat. I drop my dirty clothes off, drop some coin, and two hours later when I come back, my clothes are neatly folded and ready to be taken home and promptly strewn across my bedroom floor/bed/random piece of furniture.

Today I was confronted with a day fraught with anything but the banality I have recently become accustomed to. A spur-of-the-moment lunch date with a pill-popping doodler, followed by a cross-town trek to the bottle depot with said doodler laid the foundation for an unproductive afternoon of helping people in need and avoiding my obligations.

Upon returning to the laundromat, I was shocked by what I discovered. I had fallen victim to a random act of kindness, perpetrated by the diminutive laundromat proprietor. She had sewn all the buttons back onto a dress shirt I had 2 months prior ripped off in a fit of rage that catapulted buttons into every corner of my bedroom.

My first impulse to give her a hug was quickly overcome by my keen sense of social propriety. I managed to thank her profusely without betraying my calm and cool exterior. The End.

Goldfish

I have three goldfish who are very near and dear to my heart. We have been through alot together throughout the tenure of our relationship. From their sudden relocation from Knuckletoes' old apartment to my new place, from a posh aquarium to a small rubbermaid container, the trials and tribulations of my little friends have truly been something of mythic proportions. I wanted to find a way to show my gratitude for their resilience, pure essence of will, and their true stoic spirit in overcoming adversity and embracing my benevolent autocracy.

I decided to renovate their "digs" so to speak. I upgraded their aquarium with some new gravel, created a custom underwater Super Mario themed background, and installed a flourescent light and a more efficient water filtration system. If that wasn't enough, I welcomed 24 new members to my little family; 20 baby goldfish, 3 Tetras, and an Oscar.

To my shock, horror, and to a lesser extent my morbid fascination, all of the new brothers and sisters I adopted save for the Oscar had been brutally murdered. It was truly an eerie and unsettling sight to see the partially-eaten corpses of all those poor fish floating around, as their cold-blooded killers swam free and without an ounce of compunction to be seen in their hollow, murderous eys.

From that point on there was a marked change in the behaviour of my little comrades. The creatures I would have once described as care-free and whimsical had become blood-thirsty monsters! Gone were the days that they would gracefully bob and float through their little habitat. Now they swim frantically, purposefully bumping into one another, and going into unprovoked frenzies of head thrashing and erratic swimming patterns.

I felt compelled to document their behaviour so that others can see firsthand the monstrous transformation that has taken place.

Unsubscribe Part 2: Deactivation of the F#ceb**k

Bleach

The other day I bought a package of plastic safety latches - the kind for keeping small children and fiendish solvent abusers from gaining access to my precious nerve-twinging, cancer-inducing cleaning products. Judging from the packaging they must have been produced somewhere in the range of 1980-82. Amazingly, as you can see from the above photo, the makers of this safety product (KinderGard) where able to procure an actual solvent-abusing toddler for a rare photo-op. I find it shameful and disgusting that these people would exploit such a young and innocent victim. Had circumstances been different, perhaps little Johnny might not have been pushed onto the self-destructive path he was on. Maybe if his mother would have cut the crusts of his peanut butter and banana sandwich like he asked, he would not have isolated himself and withered into the dejected, soulless addict you see before you. All the 'maybes' and the 'might-have-beens' won't change the tragic reality of the situation; little Johnny was duped into a life of destitution and hopelessness by an uncaring and emotionally devoid group of individuals. I urge you to write a letter to your local MP and demand change. We as a free, democratic, and more-or-less-socialist type of society need to implement a mechanism by which predators like this will be thwarted from enacting their vile agendas, thwarted from exploiting our precious youth, and above all else, they must be thwarted from pandering to home-maker's desires for household child safety products, which just exacerbates this germaphobic, riskaphobic, brain-dead hysteria that manifests itself in every home in the Western Hemisphere. Oh, I found a photograph of little Johnny, only he is not so little anymore and not as cute - at 21 years old, a life of bleach addiction has aged him dramatically. Heed this warning and protect your children from a similar fate.