In the Greek Orthodox Church, today is the name day of St. John, so my wife wanted to take Communion in memory of her father.
And you will never convince me that the artist who assembled the crucifiction mosaic at St. Nicholas in Northridge didn’t know that the poor bastard in the blue head scarf would be looking directly into the sun for the rest of his existence, and put his hand up as a favor.
https://files.mastodon.social/media_attachments/files/111/716/447/053/695/409/original/2ff459f6f4d7a947.jpeg
Two girls in my neighborhood were selling cupcakes yesterday, so of _course_ I got one, and they asked if I wanted frosting, and I said duh, and in the shape of a terrified face, becaue I was going to eat it.
And they _nailed_ it. I have never seen a cupcake more consumed by the horror of existential despair and the inevitability of death.
Which is the tastiest kind of cupcake.
https://files.mastodon.social/media_attachments/files/111/081/214/452/179/771/original/13f5995e234043a1.jpeg
I know I’m finally a sensible adult because my new gaming computer arrived last night, and I went to bed instead of setting it up.
By “a sensible adult,” I mean “dead inside.”
I propose a day, once a quarter, where the team maintaining an open source project sits down with a new user and silently watches them try to compile it, using only the instructions on the website.
Yesterday, I got the random collection of curly braces, parenthesis, and <div>s for a React component right on the first try.
Today, I walk into the sea, because it means I am irretrievably brain damaged.
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