Title? What the hell for?
Below are the 10 most recent journal entries recorded in the "Mario Garcia" journal:
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|A couple of days ago, my computer died. Well, to say that it died would be a kindness, one which computer woes do not deserve. More accurately, it killed itself. It may not have meant to; it certainly didn't put on eyeliner and slit its wrists,crying, in the bathroom while the stereo played some sappy, emo filth. And it didn't drive a car, screaming, off a cliff, exploding on drugs and adrenaline, just to see how it felt. No, it passed in a quieter, meeker way. Like factory-working children in the 1700s, or like coal miners today, it went to work everyday, knowing in some way that the job would kill it. Maybe its arms would be torn off by some hellish invention of industry - a laundry folding machine, perhaps, or some sort of immense mechanized loom with countless glimmering rows of teeth, screaming as it spews steam. Or perhaps it would be a much more slower, more agonizing process. Day after day, year after year, it descends into the mines, slowly accumulating deposits of some black smegmalike substance on its lungs, until it can't breathe anymore; simply can't breathe. It pulls and yanks with its lungs, but nothing can enter, and slowly, surely it dies, devoid of precious, live-granting air.|
For my computer, named Ahtlatl, it was a strange process. One night, a particularly warm one I now recall, I turned him off to reduce the heat, stifling as it was, in the room. The following morn I awoke and stumbled, bleary-eyed and tousle-haired, into the room, expecting Ahtlatl to awaken at my behest, as he had, unfailingly, over the last 3 or so years. Instead, he clunked, repeatedly. Clunk clunk clunk clunk. Clunk clunk clunk clunk. Then something strange happened. Something I had never seen. There was no BSOD, no error message. Instead, there was a simple declarative statement. DISK HAS FAILED TO BOOT.
Dismayed, horrified, I inserted a disk to boot, managing to coax some life back into him. For about a week, he limped along, like a dog with a broken foot. Despite my best efforts, however, he once again shrugged off his mortal coil. This time, my first-aid was not enough. Clunk clunk clunk clunk clunk. So I decided to format Ahtlatl. The way I saw it, all my important information was already saved to my external HD, SEXternal. Then it was that I saw poor Ahtlatl's problem. Like John Henry, that steel driving man, that gleaming ebony tower of manliness and heroism, Ahtlatl had simply worked himself to death. There was no mechanical loom, no shining, glittering rows of teeth; likewise, was there no black lung, no slow decline into the abyss. Ahtlatl had simply run himself off his own railings, for there was no drive to format. He worked until he could work no more. He had simply spun himself into oblivion, off the rails and into the dark, dank and dripping chaos.
Now, I am reduced to using my laptop - El Nene Feo, as he is sometimes known. His keyboard is scalding, for his fans are small, insufficient. His speakers are a sometimes thing, and he is a firm believer in that old adage, "slow and steady wins the race" - in truth, if he were to move at a speed fit for human use, he would likely melt, a pile of plastic and metal simmering on my desk.
I think Fry's has a deal on an internal HD with a terrabyte of memory for about 80 bucks. Birthday money, here I come. Ahtlatl will rise again, and he shall be known as Quetzalcoatl, for he will have returned.
pretty much for hillary|
Re: Go Ask Anyone|
Most memorable travel experience was all of the trip I took to Italy when I was a kid. My folks both worked in the airlines; my mother lost her job when Mexicana airlines relocated it's LA branch to San Antonio, and my dad worked for the now-defunct Trans World Airlines, TWA. As a result of this, we got basically free travel, so I've been to France, Portugal, Italy and Egypt, although I don't remember Egypt or Portugal very much.
Anyway, we took a trip to Italy, where we caught up with a TWA tour for very little out of pocket, the summer between my seventh and eighth grade years. The whole thing was amazing, starting with the hotel room in Rome, where we had asked for a two-bed room. They took a single and put a cot in it. What was truly great about it was that we had a little balcony that overlooked a roundabout with this magnificent, if small, fountain in the middle. Every afternoon, this guy would enter the roundabout on a Vespa, with a little dog in the basket, and just go round and round for about an hour, while the dog would yap at everything it saw. We could walk reasonably to the Fontana di Trevi, and we could hike out to the Coliseum, the Senate and the other old relics fairly comfortably. In Venice, we were caught in a terrible storm, and we had to walk across a plaza on tabletops as the canals overflowed. In Pisa, we helped a guy who was getting accosted by gypsies. It was about two weeks, and we traveled all over the country. It's also the most memorable because it's the last time we got free travel, since TWA went out of business soon afterward.
I'm going to cheat on the "funniest" experience question, because this hasn't happened to me, but rather it happened to my father long before I was born; in fact, he hadn't even met my mother yet. Anyway, my father is from El Salvador, but my his mother's side of the family must have Arab blood in it from way back when the Moors were in Spain, because my father can be confused for an Arab/North African man. I look like my father only with a bigger nose, so this has happened to me as well. However, my father has a true fondness for travel, and working at the airlines was great for him. He was living in San Francisco at the time, and he took a trip to Israel with his mom. At the time, he had an afro and a goatee; it was the 70s. I say at the time not because he has better taste in coiffure now, but because he's completely bald on the top of his head. Anyway, he got to Israel, which at the time was having trouble with Egypt. I say at the time not becuse they're not having trouble now, but because I like the phrase "at the time." Because of this, planes did not land at the airport building; rather, the planes landed a fair distance away, and the passengers got off the plane and into buses. IDF forces were on the ground watching for any suspicious personnel. Nowadays we'd call it "racial profiling" and get offended. Back then it was called "effective procedure". Anyhow, there comes my dad, afro, goatee and all, and the IDF guys called out to him. At first he pretended not to notice, but eventually they walked over to him and took him to a room where they asked him all sorts of questions; where he was from, his name, etc. Finally they let him go. As he was walking through the airport, some other IDF people called him over and went through the whole thing again, again letting him go. On his way out, another group called him over. By this time, he'd had enough and shouted at them about how he'd been through this twice already, and they'd both let him go. He got in a cab to go to the hotel, where his tour group was, and talked to the cabbie about it. The cabbie laughed and told him that it was because he looked Egyptian, especially with the fro and goatee. My dad was taken aback and mentioned that he should probably shave his goatee to avoid it happening again, and the cabbie almost yelled at him not to. Are you crazy? he asked. They already have pictures and video of you in the airport. If you change your appearance at all, they'll really think your guilty of something. So my dad went a week and half in the Holy Land looking like a terrorist.
For me, what makes this story great is twofold: Firstly, the idea that my father could ever be a terrorist is laughable. Secondly, a year later he went to Egypt, and everybody fucking loved him. They were all asking him where he was from, and when he said he was from El Salvador, they didn't get it until he said Mexico. Then they'd get it, but they'd ask him where in Egypt his family came from. He didn't actually believe he looked Egyptian until he went to Egypt.
So that's that.
Tags: hilary memes.
Most important news this weekend.|
I got a new puppy.
He is awesome.
On why I think gun control is a bad idea. Study finds that school shootings and mall shootings and such things happen precisely because such places are 'gun free' zones.
The psychological profile of a mass murderer indicates he is looking to inflict the most casualties as quickly as possible.
Also, the data show most active killers have no intention of surviving the event.
They may select schools and shopping malls because of the large number of defenseless victims and the virtual guarantee no on the scene one is armed.
As soon as they're confronted by any armed resistance, the shooters typically turn the gun on themselves."
GlobLOL Warming # 4042147815098g89017424018ks7849021480|
Can we please get Al Gore and his agency of Nutter-Butters committed?
Mostly for Hillary to see|
Awesome Portal themed bento box. Although I can't help but think to myself that people who make these bento boxes are total weeaboo.
Just found out about this, and this kind of thing needs to stop. The theocratic fascism that is Iran cannot continue to do this.
The Islamic Republic of Iran has, yet again, kidnapped and imprisoned an American citizen for no crime other than her citizenship.
Esha Momeni is a young Iranian-American woman and a graduate student at California State University-Northridge. She is a member of Change for Equality’s California chapter, an Iranian women’s organization which focuses on women’s rights, or lack thereof, in Iran.
Esha, who was born in Los Angeles and grew up in California, traveled back to Iran a few months ago to complete her thesis research project. On October 15, just a little over a week ago, Eshawas arrested by Iranian security officials for “unlawfully passing another vehicle while driving,” and thrown into the notorious and brutal detention system known as Evin prison — a series of damp, dark cells with dungeon-like conditions, reserved not merely for legitimate criminals, but for Iranian dissidents and political prisoners. Evin is managed by Iran’s infamously deviant Intelligence Ministry.
This is the government that will be let in the Oval Office without preconditions? Please. This is why I get outraged when I hear statements like that. People in this country do not understand international relations as well as we should, and this is what it leads to. And when the media colludes by not reporting this kind of thing it makes me sick.
Please sign and send this letter. I don't know why they're sending it to the Ayatollah, like he cares, but getting enough emails in David Welch's inbox might make the State Department do something, for God's sake.
Globlol Warming part 182|
I really like|
Orson Scott Card.
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