2004 19 May :: 2.08 am
Irrelevant -- YES! Oh how I love the word.
Brief as hell update: I paid for this account so it's here to stay (unless I grow tired of it next year). My brother graduated, finally, and to my curious dismay I attended his ceremony. (For those who didn't know, I never attended mine.) Ran into an old friend there, laughed a bit, ran into another person I never talked to but sat in I.S.S numerous times before. Ahh... good times.
Finally, finally, FINALLY getting some coding done at Lost Legends. Coding, as in, for once I'm not picking topics off the boards to fix. I can't say much about that because I procrastinate pretty harshly, but it's looking good and basic. I seriously need to work on something big to keep me motivated.
I don't think I mentioned the Skateboard Competition that occured May 8th eh? The Grand Opening and Skateboard Competition held at the local skatepark. So, a picture was taken having the skatepark committee cut a red Skatewave ribbon in front of the park. That was put on the front page of the local newspaper.. which makes the second consecutive week I've had my picture on the front page. Scary, I do so agree.
Anyway, I've been working on a website for that too. It's something I started in 2001 with the first skatepark meeting, but never saw any point in continuing. And especially now that we have the park, what information could be put on the pages? There are still, and will always, be fund raisers though. So.. why not.
Oh hey, did you see the colorful little boy in high shorts on Andy's journal? Leprechaun shorts.. gotta love 'em. ;)
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2004 22 April :: 5.36 pm
A little laughter to brighten up our greyer days.He arouses jealousy and envy, and can draw even dangerous hatred from the man who has two up out of a treble at ten to one each and finds that the third money on nag has been beaten a short head. He calls for his drink loudly, rattles the money on the counter and has something pleasantly derogatory to say about the barman and the premises.
From The Home Book of Irish Humour, Pub Types by T.P. O'Rourke:
Nobody Likes the Hearty Man
The Hearty Man is not always welcome in the pubs: as a rule he is too hearty. He breezes in noisily and upsets the Sick Man, the Gloomy Man and the Quiet Man. He is full of loud good mornings, nice-day-to-days and hows's-every-bit-of yous. His head is erect, his feet firm and he is disgustingly healthy.
His special techniques are the slap on the back, the dig in the ribs and the poke in the chest. The slap on the back is usually accompanied by a shout of "The bould Pat," which nearly knocks the bould Pat off his stool. Shocked to his foundations, he twists around and his lips move noiselessly to respond suitably and tersely in language which is not tolerated in this house.
The dig in the ribs is always part of the "D'ye see now!" while the poke in the chest backs up "D'ye get me!" All this is accompanied by loud laughter; but it is not laughter at all, for genuine laughter makes others laugh, and nobody laughs when the Hearty Man laughs. He laughs alone and the world weeps.
The Hearty Man often has a very strong cough which deafens the bar and makes the timid man's little "ahem" seem like a whisper. This type of cough has the medical profession baffled. It doesn't come from the lungs at all but from somewhere unknown in the back of the head or the neck.
The Hearty Man requires an immense amount of space because he has the habit of stretching out his arms and flinging them all over the place. Even when he sits at the counter and places his elbows on it, the distance between the elbows is about seven feet. Another unusual feature is that he nearly always wears an overcoat of great thickness. This must be psychological, because the bigger he feels, the heartier he is.
The Hearty Man is fatal for conversation. He breaks it up by taking it over and switching the subject to no subject or ten subjects. Suppose you are talking about hens . . . history and habits thereof. The Hearty Man will break in loudly and clearly: "Hens! Is it hens? It'll tell you about a horse . . . And talking of horses reminds me of a man who had a mother-in-law . . . D'ye know Mullinger, which talking of horses reminds me of a dog . . . not of horses . . . of the fellow who sez that's a horse of a different cow (dig in the ribs), d'ye get me?" Loud laughter from the Hearty Man while the man with the fractured ribs tries to remember on what date he joined the Voluntary Health Scheme.
The Hearty Man generally takes his stance opposite the cash register, a focal point where he has the best chance of interrupting the barman. But he has no difficulty in moving from group to group and from bar to lounge. Even the man in the toilet is not safe from his attentions. "Is that you in there, Mick? How's tricks? How's the mother? Did I tell you about the two monkeys . . ."
From group to group goes the Hearty Man, encouraging, interrupting, admonishing, fortifying the faithful and loudly advising. When the Quiet Man in the back lounge has been at last persuaded by his friends to sing "I Hear You Calling Me" and the eyes of the listeners are moistening at "hearing your voice through all the years to be," etc., the Hearty Man bursts in with "Give us 'Boolavogue,' ould stock."
Maybe it is because the world is so full of troubles and cares that we all put up with the Hearty Man. It seems unlucky to try to silence him or ignore him. There is something of the west wing about him -- he can't be kept out or kept quiet. He belongs to a race apart. He seems to have no troubles and incapable of having them, and accordingly doesn't know how the rest of us feel.
Essentially, the Hearty Man has no heart.
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2004 4 April :: 5.32 am
In the sea of all grey pain I find myself confused. If it matters, at least at all, I never felt better being used.
Every thing on my mind I've already mentioned countless times before. Mainly, that dreaded over-emotional feeling somewhere near my stomach, a queasiness almost, of so many up and down emotions that everything feels shaken up and upside down, a twirling vortex of unnamed feelings mashed into a point right in the center of my torso. Like butterflies, I would imagine. I hate that feeling. An overly anxious, hiding the hyper, crazed feeling that compels me to lash out, yet holding it back makes me ever more anxious to the point where I would cry from hysteria just to scream it away. I'm exhausted and tired, but this horrible feeling from within will force the weariness aside and prolong my impatient insomnia, more than likely continue to satiate my coming insanity by tearing my exterior's tolerance asunder by the anxiety of a thousand faces. It's maddening, truly maddening, and it's foul and cruel. I wish no more of it. Only slumber can remove me from this wretched state. Sleep: my panacea. Sleep: my shelter. Sleep.. something I can't seem to get enough of.
Am I excited? Of what? My hands are chilled, a repetitive pounding has found the inside of my skull, my bed keeps calling for me.. this is no time to be excited, but over what? I cannot be excited. I had a normal day. No, I see now. I had a bad day, how could I have forgotten? I went to pay respects to someone I had known; someone most of the town had known. Many people there wore bright colors and were smiling, some even laughing at what I could only imagine were the better times. I over-blacked it. My presence there was gloomy. I'm a disconsolate dresser, what can I say? But, despite over-blacking the occasion, the bigger picture was that the people were happy. The death was a blessing. No more suffering, so that is why they smiled. How could I have forgotten?
Yes, I see. I went to the movies several hours after this, with a friend. Do I use the term friend a lot? Some days I don't consider some people as friends, but today I had one more friend. I wouldn't have called it a date but he insisted on paying for me. So I suppose it was. And we laughed during the movie, Dawn of the Dead, and we had a good time. Should I feel guilty for having a good time, on this day? I do, a little. I hate how I can think of something better, something sweet, when a day like this has befallen me. I'm sorry I'm not in complete mourning? No, I don't think I am. I shouldn't say I'm sorry, when I'm not. But I will miss her. And I will think of her. And I won't forget the affect she had on others, and on this town. Almost humourous.. though, the last thing I remember her fighting for was the very thing I contradicted, and prevented her from getting. That brings about a grim smile.
She will get the park named after her. The park with the problem others and I caused her. Her funeral is tomorrow. I may or may not go. I shouldn't dwell on this any more. What else can I do until this feeling withers away so that I may rest? Waiting feels so long.
I know. I will draw. I'm working on a comic book with an asshole. Pretty cool huh? My thoughts on that are relatively wasteful, but drawing alone shall suffice and put me to needed sleep, I hope.
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2004 1 April :: 12.14 am
What we all could have had, but now that time is lost. Just another memory, without the precious part.
I was in a serious mood and made that final nod of approval to post my update on why I dislike the waking hours of my insignificant life when, heading to the Woohu front page, I see huge, bold, black text that: "Woohu is closing". Yes, I was one of many who felt that initial shock but, for what it's worth, that initial shock was, "Holy shit, I thought I switched the text size back to medium."
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2004 31 March :: 3.07 am
Feeling a little tired; feeling a little sad. Thinking of what it meant to be and what I could have had.
I blew over a hundred dollars on such a variety of everything today. Most of that was spent on books, which I am eternally giddy about. An Irish Dictionary (I'll have to get Latin, another Gaelic, Dutch, and Spanish eventually), a manga (Ragnarok), Necronomicon spellbook, Solipsist, Cemetery stories, and The Celtic Book of the Dead. Suuuweetness. I still have books on my room floor I've never quite finished..... hmm. Anyway, I'm looking forward to working on my room for a change. This friday I'll get my last paycheck which I can blow into paints, sanders, and other fun stuff for my pretty room. I'd seriously love to pull up the carpet and replace it with hardwood flooring.. but I also, seriously, doubt I can afford that just now......... yep, that's all.
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2004 29 March :: 12.22 am
I may be online more often now..
Dun dun dun, quit my job. Finally took out one of the two people to a restaurant (the other decided to stay home) and with the remaining money I took her out to the movies too with my sister. I spent $80 that day, weeeeeee. Saw Passion of the Christ. I only laughed at two parts (not that I expected it to be a comedy. . .) but whatever meaning my sister was talking about afterwards, I had to have missed. Or not cared about. I came home to tell my overly religious mother who loved the movie, "Hahahaha, that movie was so funny, hah hah hah..." and then left the room while my sister took the lecture in my place. Wooha.
Soon after, my sister was heading out again with a guy friend, who was friendly, and took me along to play that famous role of "birth control". Not too long after listening to music in his motel room and can't-help-but-realize what was taking place several feet away, I decided my role that night had severely little effect and decided to take a walk around the motel in the cold rain. Lalala.. in the five some odd hours of being locked outside the room, two guys approached me at different times. One was a prom king to a nearby town. That was hilarious. Prom king.. what are the odds? Unfuckingreal. We talked for a few hours about sad and depressing topics about life and misery and "all that wonderful stuff" so says an asshole I recently also met at work. And ummmmmmm yes, that's all.
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2004 13 March :: 1.41 am
:: Mood: indifferent
Hum hum that wouldn't be nice if Woohu died.
Tomorrow I cash in my shite check. With that, I'm taking two of my sister's friends to a nice restaurant with a buffet line. Nice, not necessarily fancy. They've been generally, relatively cool to me so I thought I'd make it up somehow. And food is that universal sign of thanks.
I don't know how I feel as of late. My emotions are completely muddled up right now. Something keeps me from being overly thrilled.. 'tis a shame.. I had great plans of exactly everything I would buy with my first check though, but just lately I'm rethinking that. I shouldn't even be planning ahead what I'll blow the money on, so I hear. Next week I'll get a better check, and then I can get the more expensive stuff. Hmm.... I'm going through that greed phase. I'll have a few hundred and feel like it's a two dollar bill.. fucking craziness.
My passion for Lost Legends has been slowly dwindling. Part of that is my lack of time online. And I never felt so ignorant to coding as I do now. I'll just keep doing what I'm doing now and enjoy what spare time I manage to have, and I'm sure in no time things will be back to the way they were. Nice, unhurried, and pleasant.
I probably should've posted that expanded/advanced aliases message I writ up weeks ago and never posted. Basically, in short, you can use the existing souls to make them what now-removed souls used to be. Example.... 'egrin' was removed because 'grin' covers that completely. Just type 'alias egrin grin evilly $*$' and, bam, you've got egrin back.
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2004 29 February :: 5.13 pm
Ruthless: using the last of toilet paper and not refilling.
And the great PT ring has a flaw! And the not-so-great Tinaker doesn't want to fix it. It's either over my head, or I'm not thinking hard enough and it's, still, over my head. I should do a PT ring recall but I keep thinking of that overdone school argument, "If everyone in the class did something and I didn't, why am I being punished?" Yea, bitter times. It also reminds me of how products are only recalled if there's a harmful flaw, and the PT ring's flaw is less than harmful, just annoying. So the ring removed itself from two PTs, and rather than hope for the third to instigate the flaw and bugrep it as well, I told them how to avoid it, so hopefully it'll be ok.
I'll keep fiddling with it and maybe the ceiling will tear itself from its rustic foundations, the clouds will part, and a heavenly light will shine forth and enlighten me with its godly wisdom. Or maybe I'll just curse this ghetto confine and be exposed to the wonders of cancerous rays.
Few days ago, when I visited the outside world, I was looking through programming books and trying to decide which I'd rather get: something on Visual Basic, C#, C/C++, or something on Web Design. Then my sister moseyed on up with a Homies figure and asks me to buy it. Unhappy, woeful me. I probably wouldn't have learned much from the books anyway. Short attention span, and even shorter memory.
Oh yesss I took a screenshot of what my brother wrote about Lost Legends in the connecting gMud screen.. it sounds like something I'd write ("suckiness"), but I swearses I didn't. My brother hateses Lost Legendses.
"A Multi-User Dungeon in which you can play the role of a customizable character in the horrificly bug-infested lands of Lost Legend suckiness."
He's not a happy camper.
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2004 26 February :: 9.25 pm
A Generalized Howdy-Do for Lack of Better Subject Title.
I'm not going to give out numbers, for I feel in doing so someone will think the amount is incredibly irrational. I must admit though, I've thus far only looked through under half the list, and removed more than half the amount I initially planned to. The whole process of going through the souls has taken a severe amount of open-mindedness, that for the most part I pushed the list of "removees" aside for a few days and came back under a different mindset. In doing that, I mercifully spared approximately twenty to thirty more mindless souls for the soulmongers out there.
I do still have the remainder of the list to get to; however, I'm spreading out the time so I don't regret removing something later. Fun stuff... yea.
I do stuff like this when I can't focus on what I should be doing, just so at the end of the day I manage to do something. Then I feel like the day went well, and that's one less bad day for me.
Yesterday I posted on the Playtester board about the ring I made specifically for the bunch. So far I've only seen one playtester on since, so hopefully the others aren't seething behind my back. Actually, it appears as though only one other playtester has been on since the time of the post. No hard feelings at all then I suppose, yippee.
Also, as of yesterday, all the forests in game and at least half of Lynnis are typo free. There may still be grammar or punctuation problems, but at least no words are misspelled.. A lot of those rooms need more descriptions too. If anything goes so much unnoticed, it'd have to be the lack of add_item's in rooms. I guess people feel like if they can't look at something in a room, it wasn't meant to be there. Hopefully players will understand to idea that in whatever rooms they feel should be more detailed. I know at least one player has, but it was more of a general, "There should be more lookable nouns in rooms." (to paraphrase). And, yes, we the creators know that, so something more specific like, "In this room I should be able to look at /so and so/." That'd be a superb idea report. I'd personally get right on it. (Unless it was like, "All the rooms in this area (and if the area is say 50+ rooms) have the same description, and are all lacking lookable /blahs/." Then I'd probably lay low until someone else took care of it.)
Welp, I'm going to see what else I can tinker with to feel productive.
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2004 23 February :: 12.46 am
Spellchecking is much fun.
I wouldn't say I was bored, rather, still peeved at the contents within the prior post, so I spellchecked this entire journal (now eighty-five entries) in my editor. I noticed that the Crimson Editor is just as good at catching misspellings as the spellchecker in game is. Suffice to say, it's not that good. I'm convinced non-Americans had something to do with the Crimson Editor as well.
I downloaded Clever Keys earlier today and was mildly pleased with its usefulness, though it wasn't so much a helping hand as just one pushing me back into the clutches of American laziness. The good news is that I've only used it once or twice.
Anyway, of the eighty-four entries I checked, would you believe I found roughly twenty-three misspellings? That's about a third of every entry I've ever written, stained with the marking of imperfection. It baffles me so. Then I started to notice a pattern with my lack of proper spelling. I commonly misspell commentators as commentors, after all combined to afterall, recurring as reoccuring, genius as genious, fifteen as fiften, and excruciating as excrutiating. That saddens me, just a little, especially that I know the correct spelling but I still spell it incorrectly. I suppose I have to put a little more thought into the thinking process so that it comes out right.
I went through all the entries a while ago and wrote a similar list of misspellings and other such annoyances. I'll have to look for that and rewrite both lists into one, thinking it'll save me time. Yes, I'm big on lists. Hate them, but use them.
I'm redownloading the Crimson Editor right now. Fun stuff. I'll probably head to my room afterwards and crash out. I'm tired when I have nothing fun to do.
"All work and no play makes Tinaker... bored as a mutherfucker."
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