humor

I present the following to you without explanation or context. It needs neither.

I’m pretty sure there’s a place in geek hell for people like me.  So @webchick posts something (private) about Drupal’s form API and arrays, and my response?

$formAPI = array( array( array( array(‘value’ => ‘SUNSHINE!’) ) ) ); // too nerdy?

Window seat, please.

A sign that, perhaps, that your coding isn't going the way you hoped:

# This can only be described as a godawful, vomitous,
# appalling hack. I hang my head in shame. But it really
# does look like I can't just pull events for a single
# 24-hour day, but instead have to resort to godless
# ugliness such as this. To whoever reads this after
# me: you have my abject apologies. Hope you never
# have to modify this mess.

There’s a special place in hell for people like us. In this case, ‘Chris’ is Mr. Lanphear of retrospecticus.org non-fame.

So, anyway. Enough boring retellings of my day. What weirdnesses did you encounter on your little blue planet today?

Hey, quit giving me that weird look. No matter how tiresome this entry is, it’s far, far better than my recounting the fact that when I was picking out produce at the supermarket today, the muzak got switched over to the ‘disco’ feed. Nothing like picking out oranges and romaine lettuce to the disco beat of “Never Knew Love Like This Before.”It’s not that I live on my own little otherwise-uninhabited planet, see? It’s just that this particular planet’s silliness makes me want to hole up and write deadpan little love sonnets to it.

Think about it—what’s our planet contributed to the galaxy? If a group of bored interstellar travellers were roaming around the galaxy, trying to figure out what planet to visit next, what would they come here to see? Go ahead, ask me:

“So why would bored interstellar travellers bother to come to Earth?”

Did you ever have a family member whose antics were guaranteed to liven up any holiday gathering? Someone whose particularly-skewed ideas of fun and amusement were the subject of dinner-table conversations for years to come?

I wouldn’t be posting if I didn’t have one. Truthfully, I had several, but the one that comes to mind is Clint.

In my family, “mudding” is a verb. As in, “Clint’s gone mudding. Who’s gonna pull him out this time?”

He wasn’t the first member of my family to get addicted to this particularly-rural pastime. My uncle, Keith, was the one whose antics that most of us remember most vividly. My sister, when asked to describe, said it this way: “On every holiday, Keith would take the biggest vehicle he could find and go out to the bluff and sink that sucker up to the axles in mud, and then we’d all have to go pull him out.”

Clint was the same way.