It is good to be the weasel
This morning I got a brand shiny new Photoshop CS-to-CS3 upgrade — installed, registered, activated and working great — for a bit over £100 from a reputable retailer. So I’m cool until CS6 (right? It’s three hops now, isn’t it?).
Engineer sent to repair giant mining ship encounters ship full of mutant alien zombies cobbled together out of bits of the old crew. So, the usual. But gorgeous to look at. Oh, and head-shots don’t work — you have to hack off at least two necromorph limbs using power tools. w00t!
I’ve already had a dream about it, so there’s that.
And thank ke-rist the State of the Union starts at 2am my time, so I don’t even have to pretend to watch. The SOTU is the most degrading spectacle in modern politics. I don’t care who’s in office.
Guys from the president’s party hopping up every ten seconds, waving and high-fiving and giving him the standing-o. Guys from the other party sitting and sulking. Cripples, dudes in uniforms and designated nobodies in the gallery for Hisself to point to (Ronnie started this one). It’s like freaking Queen for a Day.
Oh, and then comes the shopping list of boring, expensive programs that probably won’t even get started, let alone finished. (Clinton’s last one was an hour and a half recitation of stupid shit that could never, ever come true because he only had a year to go).
I’d give a thousand quatloos to a president of either party who stood up and said, “no theatrics. These are serious times and we have serious things to discuss.”
Not going to happen.