New detours on the WallyBahn 
12JAN03: B4K4^2
That fairly well covers it all. Look for a facelift to this fossilized web-site soon. After stumbling across the Manga art of Fred Gallagher recently (MegaTokyo T-Shirts at ThinkGeek.com), I've become hooked on the genre and have busted-out the drafting table once again. Scanned copies of the produce will appear in place of the current site... In the meantime, I do enjoy the expression "B4k4^2" in the workplace. It is so fitting. I envision a Dilbertesque/Far-Side cross with Manga. No love stories with the office here!
11JAN03: Code Control
The right-to-bear-an-attitude types are quite correct in stating that "guns don't kill good code--stupid people hack it."
15AUG01: Pong. James Pong. Combed, not stirred.
Often it is the case that I will taunt my cat, Pong, by hiding her favorite
stuffed animal toy somewhere in the house as I leave for work. Keeps her
busy during the day hunting for the prize as it were. Once discovered, she
romps around the house carefully mangling the toy, until once again bored.
At which point she deposits said toy back into the bedroom on my pillow.
Needless to say, this is not your typical house cat. Nay. This is a wiley
Siamese with an attention to detail (revenge?).
Being a creature of habit, although not Siamese, I carefully put away
personal items where they belong. For instance, when changing from work
clothes to casual, I always place my wallet, keys, comb and pen knife into
dresser box on the bedstand. Lately, I have noticed that I was losing pocket
combs every couple months. This is quite odd, as it should either be in my
back pocket or on the dresser. Each time one went missing, I'de tear through
the house making certain that I had not simply misplaced it. Once or twice
it was still in the pocket of the pants, but typically it was simply gone
without explanation.
Or so I thought.
I've never questioned exactly where my cat came from as it was a gift. My
sister was living out in West Texas and a friend of hers out on a farm had a
batch of Saimese kittens needing a home. And so, one Saturday my sister
arrives with a kitten in tow. Itty-bitty little devil that was smaller than
a Palm-Pilot (much cuter too--but my PDA doesn't have hypodermic teeth
either). The little farm cat and I have been buddies every since.
Then, Microsoft began to unleash tastey morsels (not unlike Kitty Treats) as
to what the future portends under the codename "blackcomb." Once again,
something was fishy in Denmark.
It all made sense, in a twisted, conspiratorial manner.
My cat is spy from Redmond and is assisting the future cornering of the
black comb market. I haven't figured out how they got to her nor when. But
it's the only plausible explanation I've had yet. I haven't been losing the
pocket combs. Rather, my cat has been stashing them for transfer to
Washington State.
I was all set to start another anti-trust campaign. Until new evidence was
uncovered this morning. Pong had been playing on the end of the bed this
morning (4am. dammit) and startled me awake. She was down there flailing about and
having a generally good time until whatever she was playing with made a
clunking noise at the foot of the bed. I turned on a lamp and got out of bed
to investigate.
The silly beast has been stealing my combs and trying to hid them at the end
of my bed (where they fall down between the mattress and footboard and get
stuck).
At least now I have a surplus of black combs...
05AUG01: Gibsonian Afterthoughts
Isn't is humerous how the whole web craze has calmed down? Not that I'm complaining--the less bandwidth being devoured the better. But all the same, it is amusing that the incredible "world-wide everyone had better get a web page" phenomena has simmered. Every geek had to build a home page and now look at how many are static fossils (very much like this site). You can surf about and carbon-date sites based on the tools used in their construction. Ha. When's the llast time you saw a "Stop Kitty Porn" banner?
In some sense it is quite depressing that we haven't yet achieved the virtual-realities that kept us wired in the visions portrayed by Gibson (Neuromancer, Count Zero, Mona Lisa Overdrive). Collecting your email on a wireless PDA just is not what I imagined as jacking-in to a deck... Oni-Sendai my foot--more like Only-Sendy-56kbps, web-clipping in progress. *sigh*
Maybe someday.
25JUN01: Nature Abhors a Vacuum?
That isn't the half of it: try something more like, "Nature abhors Wally on a mountain bike." I am cruising along the Trinity River side walks this weekend and decide to kick it in and get going to 25-30mph or so. Then I notice that there are a bunch of kids on bikes along the next curve. So. being the nice guy that I am, I think to myself, "nah. It isn't worth splitting the difference, so just cut across the field and avoid the hassle." And off I go into the field and immediately into a high burm hidden in the weeds. I go sailing into a front flip over the handle bars and take a crushing shoulder roll and land back on my feet. Yow. I look around, reassemble the various bike parts no longer attached to the bike and am back on my way.
But I have to admit that it was exhilirating to watch the bike go flying over me whilst upside-dwon in the tumble. The only scary part to this ordeal is that I had decided not to wear a helmet on this ride. And what *really* bothers me is that had I worn the helmet, it would have likely caught my head and snapped my neck in the shoulder roll. Suddenly the tennis club is sounding like a much safer weekend pastime...
02MAY01: Truth in Advertising?
In the grand spirit of Ralph Nader, I was ready to rage on Sears earlier this week. After work I get to the garage, turn the car ignition and am greeted with silence. My Diehard battery had done just that. Died hard. I check the cables, clean the posts and still utter silence. With no other visible problems, I bum a jump start and head for home.
At the house, I remove the battery to check the purchase date. "J-6". Oops. My "Truth in Advertising" campaign has become one of "Stupidity in Ownerhsip": The battery is *over* five years old. Yikes. I should be writing Sears a thank you note...
At least it was humerous when the kid at the Sears autoshop asked me for the make/model that the battery was intended. I told him, "BMW/2002". To which he responds in an exasperated tone, "That simply is not possible. The battery is 5+ years old. Besides, *how* did you already a 2002 model from BMW this early in the year??" My grinning response, "No dice. The model is '2002'. The car is somewhat older than you are--it's a 1973..."
31OCT00: Meat on the Hoof? Only in Fort Worth...
Go figure, in the city that bills itself as "Cow Town" you can't find a really good steak. That is unless you are me trying to drive downtown during lunch. I'm cruising back to the office after an offsite appointment and make a turn on to Taylor Street (down by the YMCA). And what the hell is in the MIDDLE of the street? Longhorn? Angus? Nay. Jason's Deli. This cretin of a delivery person has their cart stacked five feet tall with box lunches and is grazing about down the middle of the street. And is totally indifferent towards the multi-ton vehicles (alas, I was not in an actual pole position to create said luncheon cart into my new hood ornament) honking horns behind them. I really did try to grab a box as I finally went around the lunkhead...