It wasn't me. You can't prove anything.



When I was about four, I remember having a snowball fight with my cousins. We were in someones front yard. Everyone was having fun except me. This was the first time I remember hating competition. This was the earliest example of disliking conflict. We were having fun and the idea of play fighting made me sick. I wonder today, in my forties, if that fear and disgust with competition was a defence against rage.s

I’ve been using feedly recently. Ever since Google Reader went tits up, I’ve had to use something. for my RSS feed needs.recently, Feedly has converted over to their own back end. That is, they were using Google Reader to store feed information including what had been read or not. That bit of information was recently lost on Feedly. I had to clear all my feeds in order to start over with them. This is nothing really. I’ve had to do this sort of thing many times with most of the programs I’ve used for RSS aggregators.

I’ve nearly finished the Johnnie Walker black that Nat got me a couple weeks ago.  She bought a 200ml bottle. I thought it was a good size because the 1 liter bottle lasted me 3 years. maybe having the smaller bottle was not a good idea. How many people go through 200ml a day?

Last night I had the funniest dream. I was driving across country. The car was an 80’s era Buic. I made the comment to someone that this sort of thing, meaning the driving across country thing, was not going to be around much longer. I believe I meant that that country was changing or the roads were going away. That or the infrastructure was dying. Something like that. It was one of those dreams you remember that seemed like a memory. It was harsh. Life was harsh.

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