partially processed quality signage product

See this sign, currently located eastbound on Madison Blvd. Read the sign carefully.

A transcript of a phone call I placed to STG Outdoor (256-536-1568) just now:

Toss me a one-liner

me: I should note - the new Santana song is poppy and fun.
Geof: Hmmmm. Santana … never totally sure about them for my tastes. Some stuff works. -shrug-
me: His collab[orative] stuff has been fun. But, then again, I have a bit of a weakness for Latin music in general.
Geof: heh.
me: His is like the Rosie's version of Latin music - just enough to bring in the Anglos.
all tags: 

Of the ten percent

Was today a good day? I'm unsure. I spent far too many hours beating on code, and at the end of the day I had very little actual progress to show for it. Judging by the line numbers, something around an even hundred lines of code today. But they're good, solid lines, and they really and truly work.

The conversation with Heather, shortly after a breakthrough:

Amy: FEAR ME. :D
Heather: Well, yes.
Amy: The query: SELECT DATE_FORMAT(((entry_date) - INTERVAL 300 MINUTE), '%Y%j') as querystring FROM qt_entries s WHERE site_id=1 AND (UNIX_TIMESTAMP(entry_date)

Telethon, or mockery?

Sorry about not providing the next installment of 'Without Prior Notice' tonight. We ended up getting an unexpected invitation to visit a friend's house, and…how to say it?

Readers, you so got ditched. I know, I know, the suspense has been killing you. I'm sorry to suck all the oxygen out of your reading existence today, but I'm horrible and need to be smacked. So why sit here and write out a different post? Well, because I've discovered another sufferer of the Just Don't Get It Syndrome (affectionately abbreviated to JDGI Syndrome).

Snarky Steely Dan Day

To Gareth:

I'm trying to figure out what I'm in the mood to listen to today.

eh, screw it. I officially declare this as yet another snarky Steely Dan Day.

It's never a good sign for the rest of the world when I declare something like this.

Oh, right. Hi, everyone. Miss me yet? I decided to stick to my guns and not post for a couple of days. If any of you had actually come over to the house and seen me, I would've attributed the muscle tics, verbal glitches, and general twitchiness to Quarto.

Four pigs' worth of ribs

Friday afternoon.
Amy, to Jeff: "I think I'll do ribs tomorrow night, since Gareth is flying back in."
Saturday morning.
Amy, to Jeff: "Hey, Tim said he was free on Saturday. Want to give him a call?"