Last night at aboot one in the morning I decided that I would upgrade my laptop to the latest version of Ubuntu: HARDY HERON. At about three o'clock with approximately two and half more hours to go to finish downloading all of the updates (here I should thank my apartment complex for piddling the money I trustingly give them each month for high speed internet on beer and prostitutes) I decided that I would just let my computer do the work while I slept. Hooray!
I woke up at ten o'clock the same morning and kind of sensed that something was amiss. This isn't unusual; I usually imagine that bad things are happening to me. Since I wasn't going to be able to go back to sleep I trotted out to the living room to find that my laptop was turned off. When I tried to turn it on, it flashed the little lightning bolt shaped led at me. A subtle way of saying "One of your roommates unnplugged me because he is a stupid jackanapes."
Plugging it in and turning it on confirmed what I had feared - it hadn't made it through the install process and was now half gibbon, half heron, all some other creature that doesn't actually do anything. A big hooray to whoever it was that unplugged my computer to stick absolutely nothing in its place.
On the plus side, it did mean that I got to stay home and fix my computer instead of going to work and getting monies. I eventually fixed it by reinstalling everything from the CD I'd made of Hardy Heron and doing a little cleanup.
Anyway, the point of the story is that my operating system is the best thing ever. Boy howdy does it make me happy. The desktop effects are better integrated than ever. My wireless and other hardware were automatically detected without any tweaking by me. Everything looks a lot better and the integration of all the latest releases of open source applications is fantastic. Hooray, again I say, hooray!
BYU gives the New York Times away for free in an effort to liberalize its concretely conservative student body. I am not sure if I am being affected by its certainly poisonous influence, but it is a far cry better than the Daily Universe even if it has no comics and omits the crossword puzzle.
Anyway, I mention this merely so that I can post a link to a picture of
the sneakiest man ever featured on the cover of the nation edition of the times. Who is about to receive an unwanted snow bomb from this man? We should probably send our troops over to find out. I am just glad that he is not sneak-sneaking up on me.
Although ... he might make a pretty awesome friend.
Is ... is the composition any good? Also: I am winning.
Just a simple question guys. Don't read anything into it.
I think I like best that you can't really tell if he is more confused, sad or angry as he makes his question. In any case he'll not much like the answer.
Toadlings.
Toadlings are, if we may be permitted the luxury of freely speaking our mind, probably the most disgustingly awesome creatures in existence. Part toad, part something else, they dominate the pond ecosystem usually by speaking loudly and rapidly about things that most others can only comfortably speak quietly and slowly about. Favored topics include, but are by no means limited to, politics, anatomy, sex, Dungeons & Dragons and other ridiculously complicated things. It varies from pond to pond.
What of the physical attributes of a toadling? Imagine a toad. Now, imagine that that toad is wearing a shirt. It could be a polo-shirt, could be a t-shirt. Now imagine it with its mouth open. That is a toadling. Hideously amazing, right?
A toadling's only happiness comes in pleasing his mate. That is, unfortunately for the toadling, impossible because they always choose the most irascible mate possible. Most usually a twig or scrap of fabric that really ought to be thrown away. Twigs and scraps of fabric are notoriously hard to please you see, and that is why toadlings are never happy. I really wish it were otherwise too. Because, you see, the only thing uglier than a happy toadling is an unhappy one.
Sometimes they rap too.
It just might be one of those days? (It is sometimes hard to tell.)
