November 28th, 2006

Archie do


"Many years ago, when the world was fresh and green and seemed full of possibility," said Greg, "I was a callow youth, skipping and frolicking through life with gay abandon. Then, like a dark storm that rises out of the blue and ruins your picnic, it happened."

Brigid looked up at him, smirking. "What happened, Mr. Gay Abandon?"

"I met ... Treville."

"The horror!"

"The, as you so astutely say, horror. Since then my life has been a never-ending series of what I call 'Treville moments', in which this semi-human lifeform dogs my heels like an annoying little brother or that little dog in the cartoon who keeps going 'Whattya want to do today, huh Spike? You wanna chase a cat, huh Spike?' But unlike Spike, I lack the intestinal fortitude to smack him around until he goes away."

"Good thing you've got me, then," said Brigid.

"Yes, exactly," said Greg. "In fact, that's precisely the point I was leading up to. Treville may not be the most pointless person in existence, but I know it had to be stiff competition. And why this waste of otherwise-perfectly-good human body parts should latch on to me as his hope for self-validation is beyond my ability to comprehend. I'm no slouch in the pointlessness department myself!"

"The first step to a cure is admitting you have a problem," said Brigid.

"Your candor and understanding are a comfort during these dark times," Greg replied. "In any case, the reason I brought this up is because I wanted to express both my appreciation for the way you've been managing to help keep him off my back, as well as my admiration for your willingness to stand up and kick the little schnook. I find myself continually ashamed that when he arrives I just grumble to myself and put up with him and am frankly in awe of the way you don't. So ... thank you."

Brigid blinked for a moment. Finally, she said, "Uh ... you're welcome?"

"Righto," said Greg. "That was all." And he went back to the laptop.

-The Gneech

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Party Guy

Happy Birthday, raemonde!

For your present, here's today's Forgotten English!

Plural of ballerina, feminine of Italian ballerino, "dancer".
--C. A. M. Fennell's The Stanford Dictionary of Anglicized Words and Phrases, 1964

Birthday of Jean Baptiste Lully (1632-1687)
Born Giovanni Battista Lulli in Florence, he immigrated to France as a boy and, in 1672, became operatic director to the courth of Louis XIV. Credited with popularizing opera in his adopted country, he collaborated with Phillipe Quinault and Molière on numerous successful operas that integrated ballet, often including women as dancers. Unlike modern conductors, he kept time by tapping a baton-staff on the stage, in the manner of ballet instructors, while directing his musicians. Lully died of a "gangrenous abcess" three days after accidentally skewering one of his feet with the baton-staff. Ironically, this freak occurrence came during a performance of Te Deum, which Lully had composed to celebrate the Sun King's recovery from an illness.

Not quite being hoist on your own petard, but close enough. Yikes.

-The Gneech
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    chipper chipper
Scar Surrounded

Must -- Control -- Fist of Death --!

There's one little record in the database that's not correct; all they have to do is correct it and their page will work.

Them: "Do we need to fix this?"

Me: "Yes."

Them: "How do we fix this?"

Me: "You have a desktop application the DB team built for you."

Them: "Did this fix it?"

Me: "That fixed -one- of the things wrong with it."

Them: "Can't you just alter the website so we don't -need- to fix it?"

Me: "..."

Honestly, WTF.

-The Gneech
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    frustrated frustrated