Well, they're still out there...
Sep. 24th, 2002 10:21 amThis morning a truck from the Logistics Management Bureau was getting gassed up at the gas* station down the street from where I work. Just now an Overnight Ground Force Systems truck - redcoated soldier and all - whizzed past my window.
For some reason I suspect my day's Surreality Quota has not been reached yet, and so I am keeping my eye out for the rental truck with 'Moving Tip #42: dollies good, hernias bad' on the side. Yes, I've seen them, I think they belong to Budget Rentacar but I'm not sure.
Today I need to get my work-work done, then do my school-work; I've got to code up a basic implemention of the Knuth-Morris-Pratt search algorithm (I wonder if a huge-ass industrial yellow tank on the back of a bitty little truck labeled VACUUM SERVICES counts towards the Quota) in C++ or Perl**. Tales of slavery, magically dedicated swords, hurricanes, revenge, silent gods, air war vs. shamans with nothing to lose, piracy on the high seas, and lost colonies on mysterious islands are drifting through my head...
(... and another convertible hearse full of flowers, followed by a hearse with the top up, just rolled past my window! Only this time they were silver instead of black! Okay, I think I've met my Quota for the day, although of course that will not stop anything....)
... and the thought of how to fit 'Don't Fear the Reaper' and a campaign set in VicMage.Asia together is entirely too entertaining to put aside. Ah, well. Putting the brain on timeshare mode, work and Perl and game are just going to have to timeslice like every other form of interest I have.
Side note: it's really easy to get motion sick if you spend too long trying to spot every single interesting truck going past your window, when your window looks out onto a moderately busy U.S. Highway.
*I just had the most overwhelming urge to call it a petrol station, possibly because of the proximity of an existing use of the word 'gas'. But possibly because of extended dealings with
quintus. Eek.
**Language partisan politics will not be heard. These are the only two languages I have interpreters/compilers for. Deal.
For some reason I suspect my day's Surreality Quota has not been reached yet, and so I am keeping my eye out for the rental truck with 'Moving Tip #42: dollies good, hernias bad' on the side. Yes, I've seen them, I think they belong to Budget Rentacar but I'm not sure.
Today I need to get my work-work done, then do my school-work; I've got to code up a basic implemention of the Knuth-Morris-Pratt search algorithm (I wonder if a huge-ass industrial yellow tank on the back of a bitty little truck labeled VACUUM SERVICES counts towards the Quota) in C++ or Perl**. Tales of slavery, magically dedicated swords, hurricanes, revenge, silent gods, air war vs. shamans with nothing to lose, piracy on the high seas, and lost colonies on mysterious islands are drifting through my head...
(... and another convertible hearse full of flowers, followed by a hearse with the top up, just rolled past my window! Only this time they were silver instead of black! Okay, I think I've met my Quota for the day, although of course that will not stop anything....)
... and the thought of how to fit 'Don't Fear the Reaper' and a campaign set in VicMage.Asia together is entirely too entertaining to put aside. Ah, well. Putting the brain on timeshare mode, work and Perl and game are just going to have to timeslice like every other form of interest I have.
Side note: it's really easy to get motion sick if you spend too long trying to spot every single interesting truck going past your window, when your window looks out onto a moderately busy U.S. Highway.
*I just had the most overwhelming urge to call it a petrol station, possibly because of the proximity of an existing use of the word 'gas'. But possibly because of extended dealings with
**Language partisan politics will not be heard. These are the only two languages I have interpreters/compilers for. Deal.
Gas...
Date: 2002-09-24 07:44 am (UTC)=chuckle=
People will talk :-)
no subject
Date: 2002-09-24 09:35 am (UTC)Hmm...Sounds like it would actually be more appropriate as the theme song for a Bunnies & Burrows adventure set during the harvest season...
Yield to your arcane vocabular urges. They might not pass your way again. And it's always nice to see who will go "Huh?!?"
Do they actually TELL you what your Surreality Quota for the day is? I've asked about mine at the pre-consciousness briefing, but G-2 keeps telling me "That information is not available at your security clearance."
-M
no subject
Date: 2002-09-24 09:59 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2002-09-24 10:29 am (UTC)Don't Fear the Reaper ought to be spliced into something to do with The Secret Of NIMH. Yeah, yeah, they were sowing the field, not reaping it, but EVEN SO. A third faction of rats, considered flat-out insane by both sides. who believed that facing down the machines without launching into anti-human aggression or fleeing like frightened rodents was the way to go. Hell, it'd be the rodentia equivalent of the Boxer Rebellion! With similarly gory results...
Kung-fu mice in those robes from the movie. Hmm.
Anyway, I don't so much get told as get confirmation. I had my minimum daily requirement this morning, of course, but it just kept on coming. Spider on my windshield that managed to hold its ground even though I didn't notice it until I was already driving 45 MPH - that kind of thing's usually a good sign that the day's just gonna keep on rolling merrily along until it gets Weird Beyond All Telling.
(wanders off to do next post, mentally hearing teeny tiny spider voice going 'yeeeEEEEHAAAAA!!!!!')