Runcible Blog

not gruntled

I've been wondering lately: If you aren't disgruntled, does that automatically make you gruntled?

Well, it turns out that someone content with their situation is not gruntled. Dictionary.com knows of no such word. In fact, the dis in disgruntled means "completely", and "gruntled" means "grumbling". Go figure. So, one wouldn't want to be disgruntled or "gruntled".

Ya can't win either way!


Useful Software

I've written a potentially useful (but mostly useless) weak, one-way encryption program for generating pseudo-random, easily memorable passwords. It's meant to be used for creating an initial, somewhat secure but easy to remember password which the user should change as soon as possible.

For me, at least, it's hard to think of a good password when creating new accounts. Maybe someone else will find it useful.

Try out Lousy Encryption version 0.1 now or download the package


Frickin Ticks!!!

While scratching my head earlier, I plucked a tick from my scalp! It must've been attached to me since yesterday, when I walked around an interesting field in the Methuen backwaters. I thought I had searched myself thoroughly yesterday, but somehow this little bugger managed to burrow under my radar and probably enjoy a day's meal.

Ticks are unbelievably gross. My mother said, "What if you get lime disease?!" as if I had gone out and tried to attract ticks. You don't have to try with these varmints -- they wait around all day with their arms waving around, waiting to grab any eligible animal that passes. (If only girls were more tick-like! Actually, isn't that what happens when you get married? The parasitic woman burrows under your skin, lays eggs, and drinks your hard-earned blood? Ba-Dooom! Chssss!) But seriously, folks...

So, to help prevent any future tick encounters, I shaved off most of my ignorance grass. It was time for a change anyway. Unfortunately, my hair is very inflexible. I've only really had three different hairdos in my whole life: the Bowl (when I was very young and stupid), Baldy (which comes and goes with the changing seasons), and Almost Corporate (longer, parted, but with unwieldy sideburns).

Actually, there are probably "official" names for my stupid haircuts, but what do I know? I cut my own damn hair, and it shows. I haven't been to Supercuts (the pinnacle of precision grooming) in eons, and I'm proud of it! Sure, I'll never win a beauty contest, but at least I'm $12 richer than those slaves to Supercuts! Yeah!


I'm afraid

If ticks somehow evolved wings, the human race would be doomed. I lay awake at night, fretting the thought of winged ticks.


Love that Alarm

I've had the same alarm clock/radio for about 10 years, and it still wakes me up instantly every day. The noise it emits penetrates my skull, twists my nerves, and sends a pulse of rage throughout my body. After being interrupted from a peaceful sleep, the only thing I can think of is extinguishing that awful sound.

My father, who has the same kind of alarm clock, said that it gives him the urge to kill. The perfect, pulsating alarm that GE invented must have caused hundreds of violent acts over the years. I imagine that if I had to listen to that sound all day, I'd burn down the house and strangle anyone within view.

Here's a short clip of what I hear every day:

AHHHH!!! SHUTUP! Shut that alarm!!!