Year: 2025
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I think the dog's back paws were cold this evening. The giveaway was when she tucked them into a convenient nearby trouser pocket.
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A sleeping French Bulldog lies on her side with her back paws tucked into the trouser pocket of a human sitting near her.
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Egg and Dispatch
I don't get much time for videogames, so when I find the opportunity to complete not one but two games within a single month, you know my recommendation of them holds some weight! Let me tell you about 'Egg', and 'Dispatch'.
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Went to a West End theatre wearing my "Slamilton" t-shirt.
In this corridor, during the act break, a stranger spotted it and did a double-take.
"Is that...? wait... that's not Hamilton!", they said.
I seized my chance.
"It's Slamilton," I replied. "You know: 'Who slams, who jams, who tells their story.'"
And then, after a pause: "What's 'Hamilton'???"
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Dan, a white man with a goatee beard and a blue ponytail, wears a 'Slamilton' t-shirt in a theatre stairwell.
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Boxing Day breakfast (of champions (of leftovers)).
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Four Yorkshire puddings on a side plate, each with one or two chipolata sausages sticking out, smothered in gravy, alongside a small quantity of sage & onion stuffing.
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Unusually, we had no guests this Christmas Day. This meant that my usual level of overcatering went even further than normal.
A side effect of this is that a certain little doggo was delighted and surprised by her Boxing Day breakfast of roast goose!
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A champagne-coloured French Bulldog kicks her lips excitedly alongside a bowl full of chunks of roast meat.
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I asked the younger child to "help" me calculate how much Yorkshire pudding batter to make for this Christmas dinner.
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Dan, a white man with a beard and blue hair, wearing a WordPress-themed Christmas jumper, beats a bowl of batter.
"Well," he began, "I'm going to want FIVE Yorkshire puddings, soo..."
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Death to the shadow DOM!
I usually agree with Chris Ferdinandi, but he and I aren't entirely in accord about the Shadow DOM. He thinks it's useless. But I think it's MOSTLY useless.
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Found GC3H1WG Good'fell'as
A quick and damp scramble from the footpath above brought my right to the cache. SL, TFTC. Container seal has perished and logbook pretty wet; signable, but only barely.
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Found GC2BJTQ Noah's Cache
Came out for a walk with my Ruth and the kids. While Ruth sat on a rock and the kids went with their uncle up to explore a small cave above, I broke from the path to find this cache. QEF in the second host I looked at.
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Actually, Yes! (that IS what my birth certificate says)
There's a certain kind of person who, upon hearing my unusual name, immediately asks whether that's what's on my birth certificate (with an underlying implication that it's not my 'real' name, whatever that means, if it isn't). Well: as of this week, thanks to a quirk in Scottish law, the name I've used every day for almost two decades DOES appear my birth certificate. Fuck the haters.
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For anyone who :has :not yet seen the magic of modern CSS
CSS is all grown-up, and the combination of nested selectors, variables, :not, and :has unlocks a wealth of potential for interactivity and customisation without resorting to (the slower and brittler approach of) JavaScript. Let me show you two examples from my recent editor history.
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Ideal Conditions Calculator
Waiting for the ideal time to finally do that thing you've been procrastinating on? Greg's clever new micro-site will help you decide the perfect time to do it (and no, it doesn't necessarily just say "now!").
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I'm not sure which of our children was last in this bath, but the configuration in which they've left their toys makes me feel as though I'm the subject of some kind of waterfowl-related shunning.
Perhaps they finally got wind or my heretical opinions on the God of Ducks (may he throw us bread) and they've collectively decided to disassociate from me?
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Four thematic rubber ducks sit along the edge of a fitted white bathtub, seemingly deliberate in their placement which sees them facing directly away from the bather and towards various shampoo bottles and a candle in a glass.
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A few pockets of the morning's freezing fog still cling to the hedgerows as the dog and I set out on a chilly West Oxfordshire morning walk.
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A French Bulldog trots along a concrete slab farm track alongside fallow fields bordered by mist, hedges, and distant flanking hills.
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Obviously I wasn't planning on going to the US anytime soon, but if I did... they might struggle with my visa application when I put every "email address I've used for the last 10 years" on, because I actively use a variety of catch-all domains/subdomains.
I've probably missed some addresses (e.g. to which I've only ever received spam that's since been deleted), but a conservative estimate of the number of personal email addresses which I've sent mail from or to would be... 7,669 email addresses. 🤣