And now it is our pleasure to present:

Geek Flirtations In Three Parts
I know you're cute, no matter how many layers of abstraction you hide behind


Female: I make you floppy?
Female: "Unlike computers, females reject 3.5 floppies"
Male: nay, but you can have my 26gig hard drive.
Female: man...I'll take that size hard drive any day
Female: can you imagine the load a drive like that handles?
Female: I wonder what the i/o speed is
Male: yeah, it's got large heads and cylinders too
Female: if it interfaces with my g-spot ....
Male: yeah, it's scsi too, for faster data flow.
Male: wider bit streams. and I KNOW you like plenty of bandwidth.
Female: you better not overflow my buffer
Male: well, then we both would crash.
Female: you'd probably need to resort to floppy to boot again
Male: yeah, or a hardware reset
Male: maybe even a warm boot.
Female: but you know that it'll take at least 15 min before your hard drive can get going again
Male: yeah, it takes a while to spin up. But don't worry, I brought an extra power supply.
Female: nice...
Male: heh, always thinking ahead.


Female: two CS people having sex...
Female: "I/O I/O..."
Male: it's all about the streams.
Female: and prepping the machine to accept your data flow
Male: yeah, in your case it'd be...I / wait wait wait / O / I / kill packet / I / kill packet / I / O
Male: just to tease you.
Female: ha!
Male: make you purr.
Female: but then I'd just get frustrated and go to a mirror site
Female: where I can get the same input....
Male: ahhaha
Female: and not as much traffic
Male: that's what you think, the router would just bounce you back
Male: and you'd be forced into a denial of service attack


Male: you're SO NOT naked right now.
Male: but if you're cold
Male: cover yourself fool.
Male: otherwise, i'm gonna have to deck you again for being a whack job
Female: argh! would I be interesting if I wasn't wack-E?
Male: yeah, I think so.
Female: man...okay...I'll stop...
Female: and we'll see how you like it
Male: ya don't have to make a personality adjustment on my behalf
Male: I'm whack myself.
Male: but hey
Female: but I want to avoid being decked
Male: oh ok, well, go for it then.
Female: NormalYuri borning = new NormalYuri();
Male: borning.SetOldYuri();
Female: yeah!
Male: borning = null;
Female: I'm back then!
Female: wack-E as ever
Male: borning.GetOldYuri();
Male: BOOOOM!!!!!!
Male: NullPointerException
Female: I'm not nullpointer exception
Female: I'm caught and handled...
Female: I like being handled
Male: try {
Male: } catch (YuriException e) {
Male: e.printstacktrace();
Male: }
Female: weeeeee!
Male: weeeee?
Female: I'll print my stack trace for you anyday
Male: mmmm
Male: i love it when you talk dirty.
Female: please extend my class and run my thread multiple times
Female: I'm very runnable
Male: You're very robust and reusable
Male: i'd love to implement your interface
Male: and inherit your getters
Female: set me baby
Male: i'd love to see you new'd
Female: instantiated?
Male: mm hmm
Male: you make me wanna use pointers
Female: you can point to a reference of my instance anytime you want
Male: I'd wanna embed my stuff into your source
Female: you can overload my methods after you extend me
Male: Can I stick my members in your base class?
Female: you can stick them there and manipulate them anyway you want
Male: yeah, i'll probably use stdio
Female: I'll take your output stream as input anyday
Male: yeah and afterward they'll probably be a dangling pointer
Female: don't worry..the garbage collector will be by later to clean it up
Male: and free up my resources
Female: but you had better not free your resources to be used on other threads
Male: nope, it's a dedicated server process, it runs in its own address space

This nodeshell rescue has been made possible by the Arthur Daniel Midlans Company, dustfromamoth, and the financial support of viewers like you.

I see you there.

I can see you hiding, beneath all that refactored code and all those unflatteringly optimized routines.

The shape your indents make sends shivers up my spine. Everything is cordoned off, with rows of commented dashes and named, explained sections. The code itself is beauteous, the while loops and function calls each requiring the other, holistically, elegantly. The curly braces nest in myriad ways, but never too far down.

I see you compiling so silently and warninglessly, the compiler reading you, writing you, making you whole, powerful. The fleetness of your execution is unrivaled, the handling of your arguments as perfect as to be intuitive. And as your invocation sends off a spark of API related calls, as your binary turns into a resultation, your commands are read and obeyed faithfully by a minute CPU off in a lovely frozen shelled plate of green and warm and solder. The electric currents ebb and flow, the main CPU of silicon calculating your algorithms.

And oh, the algorithms! The coroutines were a nice touch, for the iterators. And the simplicity of handling of the queues and the stacks you use was pure elegance. The banality of a name like shunting-yard is meant for far less magnificent algorithms than you.

This was an actual dream that occurred to me, one night. A piece of code, personified, somehow, that I once wrote for a daemon-type program I had. It was an implementation of the shunting-yard algorithm, which turned a mathematical expression from infix to Reverse Polish notation, also known as postfix.

As far as vaguely remembered dreams go, this one is exceptionally clear. It took on a myriad shapes and faces, which shifted and changed as it moved, like a voluptuous kaleidoscope. One face was that of a friend from elementary school: she had moved in from Texas, and I had almost thought I'd fallen in love with her once. Another was the pudgy rolls of my grade 8 teacher, who had small eyes and a slight waddle. And more faces that I knew, and even some I didn't.

The body, on the other hand, was a prototypical naked hourglass-figured woman. Or at least, I would say that it looked to be, visually. But in the dream, I felt like I had a different sort of seeing, as well as the normal one. Like I could see all the vibrating, pulsing mosaic bits for what they were, as opposed to simply minute bits of the whole. And they felt like lines of code. So this snippet-amalgamation woman was composed of odd ideas of programs, each trying to refit back into shape with every movement. It was somewhat like how holograms are often portrayed in movies, or how those funky laser light show projectors looked: whenever the picture would step in a certain direction, the cone-like bit stretching from the actual hologram to the device that would always flicker in odd shades of blue, the part that was tracing the picture out.

This dream happened during that period of my life when I finally started understanding the elegance and beauty of mathematics. (It was also when I became a regular masturbator, but I swear, that's not what the dream was about!) I was slowly making the connection to the other places where the math type of beauty could be found, such as in computer science, where, by extension, scraps of that beauty could be seen in coded programs in the same way that scraps of the natural beauty of a cheetah could be seen at a zoo.

As much as I pride myself on being at least eccentric, if not downright nearly-crazy, with respect to non-conformance, but this was definitely one of the weirdest dreams I've had.


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