First point of news: I got my Intarnets back yesterday!
And then promptly celebrated by vacuuming, sweeping, mopping, washing, dusting and ironing. Isn't my life fun.
Second point of news: I've finally managed to squish the pilot episode of Firefly onto VCDs so that my parental types can watch it. The other ones will fit all by themselves, but eighty minutes of episode takes a tiny bit more space than a VCD has to offer.
Third point of news: The ruby slippers, insured for a million US dollars, have been nicked in a daring high-tech raid involving...
um...
breaking some glass, actually. All kinds of technology around for folk stealing things not theirs, and the one who nicks the magic shoes settles for, most likely, a halfbrick in a sock.
These particular slippers apparently belong to a man in Los Angeles, identified on the insurance policy as "Our Glorious Collector". Attempts to talk to him met with resistance from a haughty, arrogant skeleton in a lawn chair near the front of the house, presumably some kind of assistant to the Collector.
[link]
Fourth point of news: I have my internets back. I suppose that means that, in order to ensure the long-term viability of the world as we know it, I should really post something blatantly quotable. And make some icons. The icons especially. I have some Planned even now.
And that's about it for the moment.
And then promptly celebrated by vacuuming, sweeping, mopping, washing, dusting and ironing. Isn't my life fun.
Second point of news: I've finally managed to squish the pilot episode of Firefly onto VCDs so that my parental types can watch it. The other ones will fit all by themselves, but eighty minutes of episode takes a tiny bit more space than a VCD has to offer.
Third point of news: The ruby slippers, insured for a million US dollars, have been nicked in a daring high-tech raid involving...
um...
breaking some glass, actually. All kinds of technology around for folk stealing things not theirs, and the one who nicks the magic shoes settles for, most likely, a halfbrick in a sock.
These particular slippers apparently belong to a man in Los Angeles, identified on the insurance policy as "Our Glorious Collector". Attempts to talk to him met with resistance from a haughty, arrogant skeleton in a lawn chair near the front of the house, presumably some kind of assistant to the Collector.
[link]
Fourth point of news: I have my internets back. I suppose that means that, in order to ensure the long-term viability of the world as we know it, I should really post something blatantly quotable. And make some icons. The icons especially. I have some Planned even now.
And that's about it for the moment.
