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Gah, I feel like corrupted hell today. I've got no idea why, just woke up feeling awful. Some Tylenol and 50mg of Antivert later, I at least feel mostly human, but seriously, WTF? I hope I'm just seasick, I really don't wanna keep feeling assy all week.

On happier news, kitties! I now have a kittymew, or technically, my nakama does. Of course, by the time I actually get back she'll be mostly adult, but that's OK. I'm not one of those that thinks kittens are cute but disdains cats. She's a fuzzy little calico kitty, random-bred but with some odd features, like lynx tips that are pretty rare on shorthaired cats. American Shorthair and Abyssinian mix, maybe? Not at all sure.

Also, it's pretty pathetic for a server to go catatonic from the load produced by, at most, 95 users. Especially when the users are just doing basic file and authentication stuff, and the server's a dual Xeon with 3GB of RAM. This is sad, even over a 10Mbit network, even when the server runs Windows. In fact, considering that Windows 2003 Server is actually pretty solid in my experience, it's utterly sad. I blame the gimpy ATM drivers.

If it was up to me I'd rip out the dang servers and replace them with something useful. There's no particular reason why the servers must run Windows. The workstations, yes, for now, but not the servers. I'd set up a multiply-redundant rack with 10Gbit ethernet between them, and a meshed small SAN (either FC or 10Gbit Ethernet with iSCSI) between them for user files storage, allowing the ship to lose all but one rack without serious degradation. The servers would probably run Solaris, or perhaps Linux. Backups would be to a SAN-attached tape robot. The FS would be Lustre with a ZFS backend, probably, with at least hourly snapshots kept for two weeks or so. 1-2TB would be far more than enough to do that for a destroyer or cruiser. A carrier might need 20TB - not horrible, these days, especially since ridiculous-fast access is not a requirement, just fast enough. I'd also be tempted to use diskless workstations or some other netbooting trick, so that a return to standard-image configuration is just a reboot away.

The Worssh Christmas Song Ever
by Rico Melendez

O.... kay. *urp* I've got

I'm shinging today for you...
Some Chrishmas shongs... *urp* a Shishmas... Chitmas... shong thashlike a
bunch of 'em to


like a foo years ago... ahem...

I think I'mmm mmmore dunk
drunk thish time...

Ohhh therezz no pace
like home forrrrr the holly daze...
Ffffromm Atlanta to Puh Piss Pacific
I can't be more spuh
Puh siffi
specific buh
isssshhure is terrific

Shingle gels... shingle gels...
shi shit shi jizz jingle!

Police navi-dad...
buenos nachos ... uh... shumthin shumthin...
I wheesh you a Merry Shish.. Krist... Shishmass
from the bottom of my farrrt...

Oh Tanning Bums... oh... tan...
Oh Chrishmas Tree... oh....
wait *urp*
those two... they're like... like the shame same shong, man
W-Wish is it?
ffffffuck it

Ffffrom Atlanta to Pisssific...

Take my hand, we'll be halfway they arrrr
Whoah oh!
We're Livin' on a pray-errr...
Oh, HA HA, thash... thazz.. not Shishmas!

God west...
rest ye murry gentle


let nothing

dish maayyy...


I'm not



about to


From Lanta-lick to Plashific... traffic's sure... Wha
Whaaaaa... oh! Mushta... passhed out.. *urp*
A llllllllllittle

There's nooooo pace like...


From the Baltic to Pashiff

I'll have a bluuueee... Shishma

without muh
I'll have snowflakes fallin
memories... sumthin sumthin

From Atlantits to Piss *urp!*

Shhhhhanta Cause... in towwwn
toddlin coo
uh, elepants!

kitty carts too

From piss

balls will be ringin
and New Year...
shhhhad song...
n' stuff

On that one day of Cuh. Riss. Muss.
My t-t-two lush
Grave to me
A pear rrrridge in a parrr tay!

Naw that's a ridge par
A parr tidge
ffffffuck it

From Atlanta to



O.J. Shimpson
But there shhhh a lotta
lotta Jews

lotta Jewsh


Who celebrate... uh
thereshhh a lotta Jews! *urp!*


Thump titty thump

From At


Shaw mommy



I. I. I. Shaw. SAW!

From Fiffic to

Up on
Click click
Old Shhhaint. Ssssaint.



Mary dudd
I know
YOU know




I piss you









Rico... not again! Let's see. Where do you turn this thing off...
Rico. RICO! How many times do I have to tell you, don't play on the laptop while you're drunk?! Seriously! Is this the "stop" here..?

Fffrommm alllanna to Pishhha-

I will never see my beard again.

I accepted a job today. I'll be a reporter on a 2-year contract for some measly pay in a small dinky town in the middle of no where. But I'll be doing what I love to do, reporting news. But what will I miss? College? No. Not working? Probably. But most of all I'll miss my beard. I had a decent thing going, even connected my mustache to my beard. I showed up to my interview with my facial hair attached, as if nothing was wrong, still knowing they would ask me to shave. But I get married in five days on December 20, 2008 and I deeply desired - as does she - to have facial hair intact for the photos. I'm 21 - and it makes me look 25+. Heh. Now, I've heard mixed reviews from women, like it, love it, hate it, despise it. But my girl lovveeeessss it. I even jokingly commented that I would shave my legs for the honeymoon. I heard that two pairs of shaved legs make some pretty good "friction." But she told me not to do it. I think she finds hair to be the most masculine thing about me. It makes sense.

In other news...

I dreamed the Super Bowl was supposed to happen next Monday, and it freaked me out because I'd be on my honeymoon... and would miss it. Okay that's pretty silly. But what I didn't miss was the new Heroes episode, and the House marathon I watched for hours while cuddling. You know when sometimes you watch something and you get so into you have to physically move your head with both of your hands and say out loud - it's just a show? Yeah that happened to me after about 4 hours of House playing life and death with patients. You'd watch 4 hours of a marathon too if you just drove 4 hours through snow on the way home from an interview where they offered you a job too.

Today, I learned some very valuable information.

I have a well known habit of taking my bike out for a few hours and coming back. So long as I get home before it’s too dark, my parents don’t care.

On the few occasions where I didn’t come home, they frantically made calls to all my friends, asking them if they had seen me. They either find me or I am simply on my way home a little late.

My girllet had been sick for the last couple of days. I made a slightly rash promise to go see her today if she didn’t come to school. I promised to bring chocolate covered gummi bears.

It rained yesterday. I might not have gone if it had rained to day. It didn’t rain. It was just cold. I keep promises. I try not to make them often.

The sun sets at 5:00. It’s a 20 minute bike ride there. It is 4:00.

I went.

I got there at 4:20

I left at 5:10

I came back at 5:45.

Make your own assumptions about what we did.

I was gone for almost 2 hours.

My mother didn’t even know that I was gone.

Now I told you that story to tell you this story.

During summer vacation my inability to stop reading a book after starting, my dislike of going to sleep, and my dislike of waking up combine to make me almost nocturnal.

It was a random night during the summer at 3 am. I thought, hey let's wait outside to see the sunrise. Bad idea.

The sunrises at 6:30. But never the less I got dressed and went outside. I fell asleep. I woke up at 5 am. I decided to go back inside. I crashed on the couch and didn’t leave till 2 pm.

My parents found me gone moments after I left and found me back moments after I came back. They found me fully dressed.

“So, where were you last night?”

“I tried to watch the sunrise but I fell asleep in the back of the truck.”

“Oh, okay”

Combine the stories.

I have secretly had freedom for years, only to find it now.

Everyone has dues in life, but should attainment of those resources beget such a predatory environment?

I enjoyed Bret Easton Ellis novels before I found myself living in one.

Please God save us all... even as we fail you, perpetually. Science has no knowledge of our souls, but I know they exist. I can feel mine, and it aches constantly, and I cannot be the only one. I will gladly take blind faith over the grim reality of this existence. Why must hope be the last and final option?

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