Oh, my days would be much shorter, and my circadian rhythms much more appropriate, if I read more often. I didn’t remember how it’s tiresome when it’s written in small type and it’s very, very good.

I’m not commenting the movies I see anymore, or 24 (which sucks more and more each year), or Alias, or Nip/Tuck, Jeremiah or the Absolutely Fabulous seasons I had never seen; I don’t even feel like writing about Hedwig and the Angry Inch or Angels in America. Seems like my lack of blogging these days isn’t just because I have nothing to tell; I have reached another level, another evolutionary step, where information as well as sentiment can be synthesized to a couple sentences, a link and a picture. I’m beyond blogging. And fuck all the inferior lifeforms in this ecosystem.

Mr. Bricolage était bien mignon, souriant et sympathique, et s’il n’avait pas bossé dans un magasin de bricolage j’aurais pu croire que. Ou alors, il n’est pas particulièrement mignon ni souriant et je suis juste très très très en manque d’affection. Mais un autre des vendeurs ressemblait au prototype du premier de la classe boutonneux pédé de 18 ans qui ne sait pas encore s’assumer, alors il y a de quoi se demander. Zut, quelle raison je peux trouver de passer mon temps dans un magasin de bricolage ?

Damn… I have a Mac, and my life is still as void and pointless as before. But it was all supposed to changed, that was the plan. It’s been seven days, I should have found bliss and all.

I should really have taken advantage of living at the fourth floor to jump out, or hang myself in the roomy staircase. How do I do now?

You can’t expect anything good from a day you begin by waking up from a pleasant dream to go back to your crappy real life.

Tiens, j’avais des chaînes que je ne connaissais même pas. Faut vraiment que je trouve un moyen de mieux profiter du satellite. Est-ce qu’il y a quelqu’un dans l’assistance qui pourrait me dire si le Pilotime est pratique ou pas ?

Well, I think I cured the server. Now I’d only like to find out why the FTP daemon refuses non-anonymous connections. Not motivated for blogging as long as I can’t upload my thumbnails.

Oh, maybe I should buy a 512 or 1024 MB USB key to give some air to OS X, as it’s feeling quite cramped in its 3 GB. What kind of performance would that give?

Colorstrology [via]: my birthday’s color is… Pantone 16-3320 violet!

You’d think they looked at my blog before they gave me my color.

La prochaine fois que je m'étouffe en mangeant mon jambon du soir, j'essaierai de me souvenir de ne pas me moucher juste après.

Ta-da: a couple hours to discover Applescript basics and adapt an FTP upload script, and the Garoo TV Guide is uploaded with just a click on the dock. Without having to learn C# and code my own FTP upload program. Ah, OS X…

Don’t forget to reopen the garoocams popup. The Mac screencam currently uses Oculus, until I find a free equivalent.

P.S. I wonder if the screencam isn’t anti-aliased because the program forgets to, or because OS X has deactivated anti-alias on all programs because the video card can’t handle it.

— hi, what do you do in life?

— webdesigner; you?

— pastry cook

— with abs like these? :))

— so?

— you don’t see any relation?

— i don’t see what your question’s got to do with anything

Is it me or him? The log ends here: I closed the window.

Gay chats… don’t work for chatting, don’t work for fucking… what’s the point and why is everybody there?

Extensive modifications to the Nicer Titles script, OSD style. I had been meaning to do that for a while, but it’s always harder to edit a script you didn’t write yourself.

Works fine with Firefox, MSIE and Opera; I can’t try it with Safari yet, but maybe soon…

New: the snaplog, in the sidebar or in RSS. I needed a place where to link to pictures, photographs, comics that weren’t worth a whole minilog post.

P.S. You can subscribe to the RSS feed, there won’t only be cats and dogs.

I subscribed to the dog tag on Flickr and now I want to have a dog.

(Of course, I also subscribed to “cat” and ’“kitten”, but cats don’t have the same function. And since I don’t see my celibacy ending any time soon…)

(Uh, no sexual innuendo intended, it’s just about affection.)

Ever since I got networked (and that dates back to a time when RJ-45 didn’t exist, and I eventually disconnected from the family because I was fed up with my network screwing up every time a cable was moved across the apartment), I’ve been sticking to a personal computer naming scheme. Inspired by my school’s network, where machines were named after painters, and (so I think, and so I remember) each room had its own painting style or time period or something, I chose a domain I know better: female movie characters.

So I have to find a name for my upcoming Mac (but… isn’t it bad luck to name your child before it’s born? bah, lots of people do it). And it’s much more important than it seems: life has given my computers the destiny their names forebode.

Ripley^@, which was my main computer and is now a Linux fileserver, deserves to be named after a warrior; and its old case, and old distorted 14” CRT are quite a fit for the Alien “quadrilogy”’s universe.

Even more meaningful, Lain^@: my workstation, now permanently connected, eventually got a Matrox triple-head video card and the three matching 17” screens. You have to know Serial Experiments: Lain in order to appreciate the coincidence. There are no coincidences.

And there’s Blayac^@, who has now disappeared in a closet. Humiliated. (The Comtesse de Blayac is a Ridicule character quite akin to the Marquise de Merteuil.)

Goes to show how much thought I have to put into my new child’s identity. I’d rather save Dalloway^@ for a future, more powerful Mac, that’d be able to do more than just run iCal and TextEdit. So I have to find a female fiction character (movies or not, it’s not that important — and Lain isn’t a movie character anyway) who has something to do with writing, and can fit a small orange clamshell iMac G3/300. I have a few days left to find a name, but any suggestion is welcome.

Mmh, iCal and TextEdit. A secretary, it has to be a secretary. Tess? Too feminine (“Ripley”, “Lain” and “Blayac” are neutral names, that you can use in a sentence; until now I always avoided feminine first names). Parker? A bit too neutral now… Who’s there left in the bureaucracy department?

P.S. Hmmm, Benes… Doesn’t sound good, but it’s appropriate.

So it seems you didn’t miss my blog too much, did you?

These are hard times. These are decisive times for mankind. And there is no way the silent majority will accept to be crushed without a fight. (Okay, no point in playing suspense for too long, there’s a big picture below that just says it all.) Say no to cat-less blogs!

Because a cat-less blog isn’t a blog, because cat-less people shouldn’t be allowed to vote, here is my promise: we’ll fight to the death for the definitive removal from the net of all blogs and personal websites that don’t show a minimum of three cat pictures per month. And I’m only aiming low because my camera’s lazy. Let us fight!

More reason to read the guestlog or subscribe to its feed: I figured it’s the best place for me to link interesting posts on other blogs. (As opposed to informative, but not always interesting, links, which stay on the main blog.)

It all started when I went to a discount store to buy some lamps. I always need some lamps. Just as I expected, by the time I went there, there was nothing left. You better get up early if you’re shopping in the USSR, and I’m not a morning guy. Since I had the car, I went to a decoration store I had wanted to visit for a while. And that’s when it happened: 118 €, most of it for crap you’ll see in an upcoming photolog post — not to mention the visit to cheap clothing stores.

And what do I find when I get back home? The server is dead. Web crashes, ssh doesn’t respond, FTP and telnet work but I can’t find a telnet-enabled account, and it’s too late to contact the hotline. We’ll see tomorrow, maybe the techs will have solved the problem first time in the morning, and Kerry will be president of the world.

Yeah, right. So, the next day, I saw what you know. Americans really are that dumb (not a surprise, but now people will have some trouble saying otherwise), and our hosting company’s tech support isn’t helpful at all (not a surprise either, that’s why they’re cheap, but still: 24 hours to reboot a machine, when it’s supposed to be automatic from the web-based manager, that’s a bit excessive).

But it all ends well: as we wait for the nuclear apocalypse (and here’s to hoping they attack France soon, so I don’t have to help my father move in a few days), all our sites now live on the machine we already used as a database server. I’m not sure it’s beneficial (the machine is more powerful, but MySQL isn’t on a separate server anymore), but it’s not like we really have a choice.

Welcome to the new server. I suspect the previous one’s swap disk of having crashed, so we seized the opportunity to transfer everything. And I’ll leave you now, because that’s some work. (Incidentally, I don’t think mail will work yet.)

Back from the dead. No idea why the server crashed; only Telnet and FTP were responding, I couldn’t find a telnet-enabled account, and our hosting company’s hotline is very, very unhelpful (we already knew that: that’s why they’re cheap).

There it is, my GarooWiki is programmed. It’s pretty emtpy right now, because you never code and write on the same day, it uses two different parts of the brain.

Considering the mediocrity (and that’s a euphemism) of the average gay porn flick, I should become a star director. Only problem is starting out; wonder if it’d be administratively complicated to pay the actors only with profit shares.