Love the art, not the artist.
My hatred for cutting the grass rests on a sound scientific foundation.
Sometimes a book is just a book
From Angela Carter’s Nights at the Circus
Thumbs, elbows, neck, eyes, shoulders.
I am always and forever tweaking how I use Gmail.
Finally fixing an annoying problem with using an external disk.
Fixing iTunes’ dynamic and frequently stupid rating of tracks and albums.
Tonight, as part of our attic cleanup, I processed a box that I’ve probably not seen since I put it up there in, oh, 1995.
Lessons learned from previous periods of unemployment.