No Subject
Yar-ha! It's been a crazy week. Between the hideous lag-fest that is the hideous lag-fest of the thing, I can't stand the lag. Also, there are stupid people there whom are capable of no end of amusement for my co-pilot and I. Now that the fun, shiny part is over though, I'm going to let (let, haha) the co-pilot (who happens to be more liekwoah the real pilot, considering the machine isn't even residing in my current place of domicile-ness) continue with the journey without me, since it's freakin' freezing in the cockpit.
Seriously, could a brother get a cord of wood?
On the other keeper of phalanges, the bile is welling up at the thought of the lag. Omigosh. People, I know you want to stress test your server, but the gods are filled with a boundless, all-encompassing wrath when you can't even get from the Staggering Crustacean to the freakin' vendor without feeling like you're watching the mentally challenged play with flip books.
Yes. That was a rather harsh play on the framerate in town. Sue me.
Registration for spring classes shall be complete next week. Application to the Yard will be due next semester. Thoughts? East coast ivy league, or west coast bohemian paradise? Inquiring arm-socked individuals who have taken residence upon the brain-thing inside my head (Bob, the second voice from the left, counts as two) wish to know. Looking to do English or some other useless thing.
Art isn't really coming along as it's more of a slow creep. I created a thing in my sleep that's been bugging me. I think I might pencil more today. Just to see what happens. Hey, you act like it's easy to make graphite turn into cream`e. I'm telling you, it snot.
Goodnight, and thanks for all the sammich.
P.S. - Art thing! Ban, hero, and what's-'er-face at a vendor. It'd look silly. And I've never done something like it before. It'd be crossing over into dark, lovecraftian waters that should not be crossed into because of the dark, lovecraftian horrors that lurk in the waters.
Seriously, could a brother get a cord of wood?
On the other keeper of phalanges, the bile is welling up at the thought of the lag. Omigosh. People, I know you want to stress test your server, but the gods are filled with a boundless, all-encompassing wrath when you can't even get from the Staggering Crustacean to the freakin' vendor without feeling like you're watching the mentally challenged play with flip books.
Yes. That was a rather harsh play on the framerate in town. Sue me.
Registration for spring classes shall be complete next week. Application to the Yard will be due next semester. Thoughts? East coast ivy league, or west coast bohemian paradise? Inquiring arm-socked individuals who have taken residence upon the brain-thing inside my head (Bob, the second voice from the left, counts as two) wish to know. Looking to do English or some other useless thing.
Art isn't really coming along as it's more of a slow creep. I created a thing in my sleep that's been bugging me. I think I might pencil more today. Just to see what happens. Hey, you act like it's easy to make graphite turn into cream`e. I'm telling you, it snot.
Goodnight, and thanks for all the sammich.
P.S. - Art thing! Ban, hero, and what's-'er-face at a vendor. It'd look silly. And I've never done something like it before. It'd be crossing over into dark, lovecraftian waters that should not be crossed into because of the dark, lovecraftian horrors that lurk in the waters.