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(Cross-posted with LJ)

And I don't mean the Labour Party - my niece is at the hospital's delivery room right now. I should be a great-uncle (and BOY does that make me feel old!) before the morning sun shines.
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Oh, this game looks like such fun to play!!

Any game with Ozzie Osborne as one of the character voices... ^_^
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12:24 in the A of the dogdamned M.


Probably a false alarm, too.
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From the Washington Post, a little note for users of FireFox in the Windows environment.

Apparently, the .NET update automatically installs its own Firefox add-on that is difficult -- if not dangerous -- to remove, once installed.


Annoyances.org, which lists various aspects of Windows that are, well, annoying, says 'this update adds to Firefox one of the most dangerous vulnerabilities present in all versions of Internet Explorer: the ability for Web sites to easily and quietly install software on your PC.


So now you users of Firefox on Windows can enjoy the same "features" as users of Internet Exploder. Can't you just FEEL the love Microsoft has for their clientèle?

The annoyance is I've switched friends and family over to Firefox from IE to avoid this sort of danger, and now if they've got .net, they've got this danger right back again. Idiot Microsoft programmers.

(Thanks to Wally Bass at the SCOX message board on Investor Village for bringing this little piece of ill-thought-out nonsense to our attention...)
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I wouldn't know - I've never tried to perform neurosurgery on a Saturn-V...

fail owned pwned pictures
see more Fail Blog
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Finally someone found something that Windows Vista is good for.


May. 28th, 2009 10:40 pm
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Someone in Japan has created a manga (which can be seen here) about three high school students in a system-admin club who are getting into Linux, using the Ubuntu distribution.

Chapter 2 was just released, so nobody has had a chance to translate it into English (or any other language) yet.
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Cats hate changes to their environment. Strike that: They despise changes to their environment. So Sumomo right now is one highly stressed kitty.

I take in two boxes, I get one unloaded. I go down to the car and pick up two more boxes, I get one unloaded. I pick up two more boxes. And so on.

You'll notice the math isn't working here. I have so much crap in my apartment right now, sitting in boxes on the floor, on the coffee table, on the dining room table. My sister Kathy also has tons of stuff in storage.

But today I picked up my last box from Dad and Mom's. I can now examine everything and determine what I've got, and where I can put it all, and what I need to toss, and what I need to keep.

It was so very, very sad. I made one last look around the place. Nothing in drawers. Nothing in the fruit cellar. Nothing in closets, aside from the occasional coat hanger.

After I locked the door, I took they key off the key ring. I had a chance to chat possibly for the last time with Andy Parfitt, the ancient next-door neighbour (like Dad and Mom, he's owned his house since it was built back in 1956). Then Margaret showed up and I handed the key off to her. Now, none of the three offspring of Don and Thelma have a key to the family homestead.

The new owner takes over on the 25th.

It's done. It's over. I feel spent.
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First, the good news: my client's client, a property management firm, liked my work for them so much, they hired me. Well, it becomes official after I get 1,000 hours. I'm closing in on the 800 mark, so in about six weeks or less, I'll be full-time, with nice pay and nice benefits - and immediate benefits at that, with no waiting period. And they've guaranteed me that I'll be off for Anime North.

They've transferred me to a solo slot at a shopping mall, doing the accounting on both that mall and an office tower located in Calgary. It's only a physical location change: I've been involved in both properties since November, off and on. That transfer happened today, and went reasonably smoothly. Wish me luck.

Over the past year I had no confidence in my cash flow to invest in my somewhat tattered wardrobe, worried that the money would be needed to pay for condo fees and food instead of shirts and ties. Now I have both the cash and the crying need, so today I went out and spent a ton of money on:
- Three dress pants
- Two jackets
- Six dress shirts
- Ties
- Casual but classy shoes
Now, I hate - no, despise - buying clothes. You go out, spend several hundred dollars on a new suit or two, and leave the store with your wallet lighter and your arms empty - or at least not quite as full as they should be, as the suits and dress pants all need to be tailored. This lack of connection between cash out and product in tends to lead to an experience for men that sucks big time. I go back on Friday to pick up the pants.

But, the deed is done. I'll be going back next month to fill in the holes in the wardrobe. I need some quality casual shirts, another pair of blue jeans and a couple of pairs of Dockers. I need sneakers. Half my T-shirts are better used as dust cloths.

As I smell the burning plastic of my credit card, I have to contemplate how much easier it would be if we lived in a nudist world: cheaper, both for acquisition and for maintenance.
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Back from Oshawa, and back on Live Journal, for the first time in the longest time. My life, once spinning out of control, is now resuming some semblance of normalcy, or at least as much as it can.

We finished Kathy and Pat's last trip to Dad's. They dropped off the keys to the place with Margaret. I still have a bit more to get (read: my car is overstuffed), and need to make one final trip to pick up two light-but-bulky items.

The house is now almost completely empty. The basement is denuded of stuff, except for Dad's ancient but incredibly sturdy work bench, a couple of couches and a matching chair to that couch, and a 1970's-model console stereo. The appliances and window treatments are going with the house (not that anyone in the family has any use for old Eaton's Viking ranges and stoves, or for old Sears washers and dryers).

Console stereos. A concept that doesn't exist anymore, thank goodness. They were nice pieces of furniture, but they were as bulky and unwieldy as a Lazy-Boy. Many have been converted to dry bars. I understand the radio might still work, but the turntable and 8-track don't... not that it would be all that easy to find 8-tracks of, say, Lady Ga-Ga or Black Eyed Peas. The sucker is about 3/4 of a metre high, a half-metre deep and a metre across. That's a hell of a lot of real estate for an AM/FM radio with two speakers.

On the top floor is Dad's old desk and office chair. The couch (the matching love seat is on its way to Sturgeon Falls with Kathy & JP) and one table lamp and table are temporarily in the living room - they're spoken for, and going. There's some miscellaneous junk in the kitchen. One bedroom has a box spring and mattress. Everything else - the bedroom suites (one from about 1950, complete with hope chest), the rest of the living room and hall furniture, every picture on every wall, everything - is gone.

It was nice-but-sad seeing my sisters, brother-in-law and stepmother again. Kathy & JP even brought down their son Francois with them (nowadays he sports a beard as thick and black as a Saracen's, he looks a bit like Blackbeard the Pirate). It almost felt like the last time, to be honest, after all the trips that we, especially Kathy & JP and I, had made in clearing the place out. Well, as they gave their keys to Dad and Mom's place over to Margaret, it is. I'll be back for one last pick-up next Saturday and then as far as I'm concerned, it belongs to the new owners.

As I got ready to enter the car, I had one last look around the back yard of my youth, had a little sniff, steeled myself, and got in the car. I did feel a bit like I was abandoning my parents there, but I've even packed them away with me, in my happiest memories, to be taken out and admired whenever I'm feeling sad.
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I weep sometimes over the quality of education offered to the children of this fair city. The adults in charge of the organization are a wonderful case in point.

In an effort to keep up with technology, the Toronto District School Board is now allowing children to keep cellphones on hand - for security... and have prohibited any and all electronic photographic devices.

Go ahead. Try, just TRY to get a cellphone without a camera. I went for a bottom-of-the-line Samsung. It has a camera.

The Board, in its infinite wisdom, sent said missive to every teacher in the TDSB's school e-mail system. Which meant that much hilarity ensued in the staff lounges across the city.
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Not the kind of plot point and ad that go well together...

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It was a very nice funeral, as funerals go. I have to say though, that like Kalten of the Sapphire Rose I prefer to keep my friends and relatives alive.

Cut because I'm being maudlin )


Nov. 25th, 2008 10:22 pm
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Dad's passing was peaceful: up until an hour before, he was awake, alert, aware and advising his minister on which form to fill out and submit by November 30 to ensure the church didn't have to overdeduct for taxes on Reverend Bill's paycheque. Then, protest against being gouged by overeager tax officials completed, he lost consciousness and gently slipped the surly bonds of Earth.

I can't tell you how fitting that ending is.

Margaret is taking it about as well as can be expected. She's tired but grateful.

The visitation is Thursday from 2-4 PM and 7-9 PM, and the funeral is Friday at 11:00, with a luncheon at Centennial Albert United Church after interment.

For more details, check out McIntosh-Anderson's website.

For those of you coming from Toronto, the simplest instructions are to take Highway 2 through Oshawa's downtown core - the funeral home is located just the far side of the core. The funeral home is on your left, just after the synagogue.
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As Kevin posted, my father has passed from this veil of tears.

It happened quietly at 4:30, with loving wife Margaret, the palliative care nurse and his minister Reverend Bill present. We knew it was going to be soon; on Friday the nurse had "the chat" with Margaret, advising her that he'd be lucky to survive the week.

It still hurts, though. He was the best dad that anyone could wish for. Only the good die young: he was a mere 79 years old.

Dammit, I hate cancer. Hate it with a driving passion. He should have had another decade, but it was not to be.

Kathy & JP should be there any minute now - they'd hoped to get there before the end, and missed by a mere matter of a couple of hours. I'll head over first thing in the morning.
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A lot of us use AVG. It's nice and free, and has in the past had excellent quality control.

Not at the moment, though.

Recently, the latest update identified Zone Alarm as a trojan.

They fixed that, so that now an important component to the Windows operating system was being identified as malware (stop laughing - Windows Vista isn't maliciously bad, it's just ... bad). Agreeing with AVG left your system FUBAR'd when you tried to restart it. They rushed out Yet Another Patch.

The patch works - sort of. AVG is no longer identifying the important Windows system file as malware. Instead, it's identifying Adobe Flash as malware.

Three strikes in less than a month. Impressive, AVG. To celebrate, the folks over at The Register offer this presentation from Youtube, some of the finest moments in soccer (or for the Europeans out there, "football"):