So today at 8:30am, I had an MRI. It wasn’t as bad as last time, but it sure seemed louder somehow. The machine was much more recent–sporting a fancy LCD embedded into its doughnut badness–yet in the advancements it contained, apparently none of the engineers considered integrating sound dampening to avoid permanently deafening patents enclosed entirely within its grasping confines after repeated exposure to proximal squeals resembling a drunken hobo occasionally plucking the same frayed string on a “sweet” electric guitar he found jacked into a defective amp incapable of any setting below 100 decibels.

Hey Congress? Fuck every last one of you worthless shit-eating cock-mongers and the crippled, tumor-riddled horse you raped to the tune of Let the Good Times Roll while simultaneously flipping off a bus of nuns with a composite hand constructed entirely from freshly butchered kitten heads. What, the $25-billion you gave to the failing auto giants wasn’t good enough? Somehow the $700-billion bloated with an additional $110-billion in tax breaks, racetracks, wooden arrows, rum, and other miscellaneous detritus is more palatable than one lacking these accouterments?

A conundrum espies an infinite wake, bereft of solace, robbed of succor. Instead, splendor and convoluted mirages ripple and entreaty fealty or some semblance of instrumentality beyond obvious and unrepentant madness. It sings of listless fate and they listen The pariah raves for reprieve but damned perfectly Tortured ceaselessly by forever Still, a blink pierces the vale and cruelly illuminates every sordid fleck and sardonic splinter of corrupted tapestry. Driven unreality crafts this mockery of fantastic oblivion, voracious and intent to rend sanity through tantalizing simulacrum inspired by grievous shadows cast beneath vile imitations of predictable automatons.

Ugh! Fine, I’ll write something! Geez. So the post-hurricane monsoon eventually hit Illinois and dumped copious amounts of fluid upon our hapless suburbs, and a friend of ours has an aunt and uncle living in dangerous proximity to a lake. Most of Saturday afternoon on the 12th was spent moving their furniture to the second floor and sandbagging his house, and we didn’t get home again until around 1am. Nothing really notable happened, but I was highly amused by the garter snake seeking high ground on a recently arranged sandbag; thankfully I didn’t step on any wildlife while wading through the knee-deep miasma back to Jen’s car.

There’s a lot of debate in application development circles over various sundries such as column naming schemes and framework implementation details. Well, I’d like to clear all that up. See, there are more application frameworks than grains of sand on the entire planet Earth, and each one of them has a different philosophy and API for creating database objects. Rails, Django, Turbogears, Zope, Zoop, Drupal, Catalyst, Nitro, Nuke… holy fucking Christ, stop it already!