AIM (AOL Instant Messenger) will be taken offline this Friday, 15 December 2017. It has been years since I have used the service much, yet I have kept my handle in continuous service since 1998. That’s over 19 years.
AIM was able to give me a readout of the moment Brian and I joined. See “Member Since” in the images.
ICQ was our first messenger in 1996. I still keep that one in operation, too. UIN #1564254
These days, people use services like Signal, Telegram, WhatsApp, and others more.
Gallo wine. $1.74 on clearance from a previous year at Target.
Posted in rambling
Tagged cheap, gallo, wine
We are NOT Responsible For Any Bugs When You Are Sitting Outside!
— Attn. La Cabaña
No company has sent me more postal mail over the years than AT&T. It has arrived several times a week for years. I can’t imagine the container that it would fill if I had it all together at one time.
It’s always pushing some mediocre copper-line DSL plus DirecTV satellite rolled into a bundle that takes paragraphs full of asterisks to describe.
The last thing I want is a raft of equipment to funnel a little TV and Internet into the house which I can thankfully get somewhere else through a thin fiber-optic line. Most people don’t have that option.
As many times as AT&T, Verizon, and some others get paid and incentivized to lay down some fiber, they just can’t quite get around to doing it here, yet they stand ready to make trouble for anyone else who does.
No shift to work on Wednesday so:
Up all night, sleep all day – (Slaughter)
In other words, I’m not doing a GD.
I like this.
It’s not good in there sometimes.
A writer must proceed to dangerous places. It is imperative that he/she descend into the danger zone known as the soul. The soul is not a realm inhabited by weightless beings radiating beatific light. Rather, it is a landscape of broken, wounded wanderers; inchoate longing; searing lamentation; the confabulations of imperfect memory; of rutting and rage; transgression; depression; fragmented language; and devouring darkness.
The soul sends dispatches of which few desire to be privy. When ignored, the soul ups the volume of its nightmare dispatches. Reductionists term, the soul’s urgent messages pathologies. Thus, our age is plangent with the pathological. The world bristles with the rage and suffering of maimed, inarticulate-in-their-agonies angels.
In our suffering, we have bloated our bodies, maimed and poisoned the earth, and scoured the hours of our lives of meaning by the compulsive commodification of all things.
We have delivered insult after insult to the soul of the world, and yet it loves us with an abiding and bitter grace.
Señora Católica is a parody account. Fun.