Oh, I got hot sause all over my bazito!

You know what this is? It's a brain sucker. You know what it's doing? Filing its tax return

If you wish to make an apple pie from scratch, you must first invent apple pie

The Adventures of Little Ed Brave

Tell airport security your name is McCannister because you can hide anything in a cannister.

You know what? Nobody notices when this changes anyway.

There are 10 types of people in the world: Those who understand binary, and STFU

What happens in a black hole stays in a black hole

The black hole draws you inexorably inward. Time slows. You are likely to be eaten by a grue.

I'd diddle little umdidlie... if she weren't my half-sister.

Abortion prevents pedophilia. In more ways than one!
Get Firefox!
I wrote a haiku

which I was about to share,

but then I thought, "screw it."
Level 1

Notice to all users of the Holodeck:

There are safety protocols in place that cannot be deactivated without the approval of two commanding officers or the captain to protect users of the Holodeck from potential harm. However, every time the Holodeck is ever used in a nontrivial manner, no matter what the safety protocols say, the Holodeck turns into a deathtrap.

Unless you believe yourself to be adept at constructing a forcefield from your communicator and 19th century Earth tools, or you're at the very least not wearing a red shirt, you are strongly advised not to attempt to use the Holodeck until a designer comes up with a safety protocol that doesn't kill you whenever somebody looks at it funny. Even when you're not on the holodeck. Or in the same quadrant. Or time period.

In fact, if you are wearing a red shirt, Starfleet may not be the job for you


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Permalink 06/16/12 at 10:42:51 pm, by Ed Email , 179 words   English (US)
Categories: General

An ode to one midsummer's morning in late February.

Oh midsummer's morn, what the hell are you doing in February? So far away from home, your presence makes me wary. Your beginning doth start like a gazelle on the plain, whatever the hell that means, it ends just the same. O, the night before was dreary, the noon's promise forlorn. What right have you, in February, to appear in such a form? I say to you, "but NO! I can't enjoy your weather!" You see, the thing I know, is your barometric pressure. As quite as low as yours is, a blizzard must be brewing. Your balmy temp seduces, but there's nobody you're fooling. O would your leaving could we stay, but the earth does not abide a vacuum in its way; it brushes you aside. The month must have its say, lest the Summer shift its date, go now but if you may, return in next June late. For on that day I'll wed--my true love will I marry, so I'll ne'er forget your stay, in dwarfish February.

From the comments of Ed

Permalink 09/15/11 at 09:59:20 am, by Ed Email , 143 words   English (US)
Categories: Programming

This is a comment I recently wrote in the multiplayer handler class while programming a multiplayer game:

//This is known as the "Joe it's your turn" method, named after my brother who, while playing turn-based games,
//will always ask whose turn it is, especially during his turn, since he takes so long to play. Therefore,
//whenever anybody's turn comes up, all other players will notify them of such. Essentially, this is saying
//"Joe, it's your turn, Joe it's your turn, Joe it's your turn". This allows the remote application to play
//automatically if the player is not on the game screen to tell whether they should play or not. Unfortunately,
//my brother still takes forever. Sometimes I have to take his turn for him. In that case, take a look at the
//method above, "playerUnresponsive", for replacing a player with an automated version.

Decode-a-song Volume 3

Permalink 08/28/11 at 01:23:10 pm, by Ed Email , 137 words   English (US)
Categories: General

There is a place. This place is very real. When you're there, it is as surreal as sight to a blind man. It can be found past the source of wealth for dreamers, and far, far above just half of that which the meaning of cannot be ascertained by observers.

One is aware of this place only through song of the night. Only halfway between sleep and awake, can one even know of this place.

In this place, far far above, and beyond dreamers' gold, not only does the water reflect the sky. The sky, too, reflects the birds, and the music, and even the full moon, once in great while.

This place, real as it is, is a fairy tale. Stories told, thoughts remembered, nights left awake, or slept soundly; this, too, shall come to pass.

Decode-a-song Volume 2

Permalink 08/26/11 at 06:31:55 am, by Ed Email , 67 words   English (US)
Categories: General

There is a time when a famous person will come to visit your city, town, what have you, you may make any entreaty of them that you like. When doing so, your prominence, stature, or caste doesn't even enter into it.

Yes, when famous people come to visit, and you request whatever you want, they will read your mind and make your worst nightmares come to life!

Decode-a-song Volume 1

Permalink 08/25/11 at 04:07:11 pm, by Ed Email , 76 words   English (US)
Categories: General

Zounds! That which embodies the proverbial barometer's quickly decreasing value terrifies me slightly!

However, I find pleasing the rapid oxidation of cellulose and fiber held together by lignin.

Additionally, inasmuch as between the two of us, neither could come up with a plan of what to do to save our lives, or possibly the universe has simply shrunk to contain only ourselves and our abode, we must allow the following:

Freezing precipitation, freezing precipitation, freezing precipitation.

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