Wonder how many people are gonna sign up for blogger & blogspot when they find out Google's new email service Gmail has opened up their beta testing to users of blogger.com.
Hey, does this finally mean I'm one of the cool kids now? I've got Gmail and you don't. Neener neener.
Gmail. It sounds vauguely pornographic, no?
"And he just kept hitting that button, over and over, driving my Gmail crazy. He wouldn't let up and I thought I'd go mad. My knees were shaking, fingernails were digging into my palms as he continued his relentless onslaught. Over and over and over again, a haze of obscene words and promises filling any empty space. I bit my lip bloody from the sheer frustration."
"Fucking spammers."
Lint-free Belly Button Gazing
An American girl in Rome muses on her adopted hometown, her libido and her vibrator.
22 April 2004
12 April 2004
Wherein The Resident Dictator Comes Off Like a Whinging EuroSnot
Why oh why does a last minute work conference have to be held yet again in London? I am getting superbly bored with London. It's cold. It's rainy. And the Weights n' Measures law as applied to tots of spirits should be reported to Amnesty International.
No imagination, I tell ya. Why can't these things be held somewhere warm? Preferably with surf, sand and tight little cabana boys bringing me outrageously decorated drinks and massaging suntan oil onto my buns. Fuck, I'd settle for Paris. Or Amsterdam. Anything but London again.
Fuck, I've already been once this year for the usual annual conference trip, and as I prefer to see my boss get the most of of his money, I'd rather have an all expenses paid trip to somewhere new. Yes, I know I should be slapped for this whinge. Tough shit. London is just not my cup of (really fucking expensive) teas, darlings.
No imagination, I tell ya. Why can't these things be held somewhere warm? Preferably with surf, sand and tight little cabana boys bringing me outrageously decorated drinks and massaging suntan oil onto my buns. Fuck, I'd settle for Paris. Or Amsterdam. Anything but London again.
Fuck, I've already been once this year for the usual annual conference trip, and as I prefer to see my boss get the most of of his money, I'd rather have an all expenses paid trip to somewhere new. Yes, I know I should be slapped for this whinge. Tough shit. London is just not my cup of (really fucking expensive) teas, darlings.
07 April 2004
Further Adventures in Learning Latin Based Linguistics in Rome
There is no word in Italian for 'Canyon'*. Gorge: yes. Ravine: yes. Canyon: no.
*At least according to all my bookmarked online Italian dictionary resources and the one hard copy dictionary we have here in the office.
*At least according to all my bookmarked online Italian dictionary resources and the one hard copy dictionary we have here in the office.
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