-- William Gibson, All Tomorrow's Parties
Adam and Sophy got back into town for Thanksgiving on Friday, so we went out to Gusto for dinner. Hung out at Cronin's for a bit, was amused by his open access wireless (SSID: "The Interweb"). I bailed before Doobies, went home, played some God of War (which is lots of fun). Pete came home rather drunk, which was entertaining.
Woke up with a headache Saturday afternoon, and I've still got it. Not enjoying it, neither. I think I've figured out how I can tell if I'm going to have a good day or not. If the people next door have locked their dog out, presumably forgetting they let it out to take a shit, it barks every fifteen seconds. I've counted.
Somehow my day and this dogs are inexplicably linked. I'm not happy about it. I suspect the dog isn't either.
I've been reading The Salmon of Doubt for the past few days. It seemed appropriate after reading The Guide and the Dirk Gently books a couple weeks ago. I miss Douglas Adams. Some of his Apple rants are golden. I really want another Dirk Gently book.
Also almost finished with Silence on the Wire, which got really good once I got past the electronics engineering stuff (I just don't seem to have either patience or the brain for it). Just about done, so Harry can stop bugging me about it. :)
It's definitely solidified some of my vague ideas about passiving host fingerprinting. Not sure if I'll do anything with those ideas, but they could be fun.
And now I think I will find something to eat and try to keep my skull from exploding.