Right out there.

To the Dev, where I sunk four pints and talked rubbish with envoy and ?? and stompyfairy and flavius_m. barbedwirekiss laughed like a drain at reasons why babies are better than users:

• Babies don't lie about what they just did.
• Changing a nappy is quicker than rebooting Windows.
• Babies shit and scream for a reason.
• Babies grow out of shitting and screaming all the time.

Slimelight remains the last option for a Saturday night out. I was walking around the corner of Torrens Street when a gaggle of underage goth girlies told me I had nice legs (I told you I wear skirts to get chicks) and could I get them into Slimelight without ID? Sadly not. And no, I didn't get carded. The place hasn't changed in five years. I knew four people there and spoke to two of them, including a long babble with delomelas about geekery and suburbianity, but somehow everyone looked exactly the same.

Escitalopram is goddamn crack pills. I got in at 5am utterly smashed and got up at 11am and tidied the kitchen. What on earth.

*ahem* A new phrase.

"You'll know your open source project's a success when you start getting feature request emails with an overwhelming sense of entitlement."

(me to someone writing an experimental MediaWiki client and to seph_hazard on the new version of Recover Your Life)