I am the anti-spam guy. I know where it comes from, what it looks like, who is sending it, and why. I sell this knowledge to clients by setting up front-end servers running the shizzle open source OS which in turn run the bomb mail transport agents and the absolute efffing wickety whack spam filtering software.

I charge for the installation voodoo. The software exists due to the work of others but the wetware exists because for every 100 people, a few will be complete assholes.

I am refering to the senders of spam. Assholes. Every one of them.

People with “solutions” to the spam problem are like integrations of assholes. They are asshole-primes. Read more here for a quick test you can use to demonstrate that they have indeed failed to succeed where religion, drugs, etc have failed to succeed over and over solving the whole “why is there evil” problem.

Bar

Paul’s ancient Rio started having battery problems. He took it to the store, mentioned his three year extended coverage deally and they hooked him up with something of equal or lesser as a replacement.

A 20GB ipod.

So many people to be jealous of, so little time.

I’m waiting for the color-screen-havin-120GB-802.11i monster 😃.

Very interesting progression of drawings over the course of an entire trip.

If you are running osX, you need sofa. On my powerbook, I need all the real estate I can get. I’ve temporarily sworn off virtual desktops / pagers in memory of running enlightenment for two years and have actually gotten used to Expose; if only I had enough RAM to make it responsive.

Combined with Another Launcher, osX can kick some ass.

Twice in the past month, she’s corrected me when giving my phone number to people standing behind cash registers – once at blockbuster and once at a shoe store. It has been long enough now that I can blog about it without sounding like I’m whining about being corrected – honest mistake.

I hadn’t forgotten my own phone number. I always make one up. I generally use old phone numbers mixed up. I do the same with my address unless I’m getting something delivered or credit card validation has failed once and I’m specifically told that the bogus addrses is the cause. I make up e-mail addresses@jokerbone.com because I can and when I know it’s junk anyway give out addresses@electricfork.com.

I like to think that I’ve polluted the information stream about myself enough that it is becoming white noise.

Motivation for this post: Pivotal actions that could swing my vote.

Packetstorm happened to link Aljazeera and I couldn’t help but follow it.

It’s always nice to see a local make good. In this case, DC’s own (well at least I remember it) Couric.

This is good right?

I was just surfing Modern Drunkard Magazine as linked from Kottke and couldn’t help but note that my own birthday (12/28) is listed as the unluckiest day of the year.

Further research tells me…

This day commomerates Herold’s slaugher of infant boys under the age of two.

Welcome to 2004.

Coincidentally I’m watching Groundhog Day on Encore this 1/1, among the Lebowski’s and the Office Space’s to which Ben and I pre-call most of the good lines. Bing!

“does he have to use the word poopy?”

John’s party was nice. 2003 was nice. I’d love to do the beginning over again so that I could have a cigarette. Lots of cigarettes. So many. mmmmmmmm.

Anyway, back to the movie…

I always say a prayer and drink to world peace…

I turn 24 today.

Amanda claims 24 to be ancient. She’s watched me write a few sentances and delete them.

“You’d think you had died and were writing your own memoirs.”

Lots of me is different than it was a year ago. Were I marketting myself, I’d proclaim me to be new, improved, and better than ever both in mind and body. That always sounds to me like an apology for previous versions and I’ll concede that sentiment.