Kind: Notes
Short content: a post or status update with just plain content and typically without a title.
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I reimplemented Al Sweigart's "Pipe Swap" scrolling-ASCII-art in plain-text-over-HTTP by exploiting the HTTP
Refreshheader:https://textplain.blog/scroll-art-viewer/pipe-swap
This was a stupid idea, but it was about the level of code sophistication that my illness-brainfog can handle today.
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Today, I can overhear the two guys who are digging a trench through my garden.
Guy 1: Does this look like a gas pipe to you?
Guy 2: Dunno. But we can't dig round it soo...😬
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vole.wtf's 1% guild wasn't the easiest club to gain membership of, but somehow keeping my phone alive for long enough to snap this screenshot was even harder.
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Screenshot from an Android phone at vole.wtf/one-percent, showing a picture of Dan alongside other people.
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Somebody just called me and quickly decided it was a wrong number. The signal was bad and I wasn't sure I'd heard them right, so I followed up by replying by text.
It turns out they asked Siri to call Three (the mobile network). Siri then presumably searched online, found Three Rings, managed to connect that to my mobile number, and called me.
If Siri's decided that I represent Three, this could work out even worse than that time Google shared my phone number.
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I'd never put much thought into it before but a slow cooker is basically the opposite of an air frier.
They're both relatively small (compared to an oven) hot boxes for cooking food. But an air frier uses the small space to contain as much energy as possible in thir vicinity of the food, while the slow cooker aims to maintain as low a temperature as possible until the food finally cooks itself out of boredom.
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A seared shoulder of pork rubbed with spices sits in a syrupy cider mix atop some sliced white onions in a slow cooker pot.
Anyway, this is going to be pulled pork in like 8-10 hours. 😋
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Did I just rank my LPG provider 10/10, or 1/10? I genuinely don't know.
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Slider from a web questionnaire, asking "In a scale of 0 to 10: How likely are you to recommend Flogas for bulk gas?". The slider below, though, is a scale from 0 to 100, not 0 to 10. The value 10 is selected on the slider, but this is only one-tenth of the way along its length.
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Whenever I'm writing a rhyme,
I can't do the third and fourth line.
Dah-de-da-dah-duh,
Dah-de-de-dah-duh.
But somehow it still works out fine. -
I'm looking at a listing for a ¼" to ⅝" screw adapter, for which the seller warns that I should "please allow 1-3cm error".
A 3cm error would mean that a ⅝" screw could result in a screw thread anywhere between 1⅘" and... minus half an inch, I guess? (I don't even know how to make the concept of negative lengths fit into my brain.)
I suppose this seller could send me an empty envelope and declare that it contained an infinitesimally small adapter. At which point... I'd be the one that was screwed!
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Highlighted item description from an eBay listing. The highlighted section shows that the listing is for a quarter inch to a five-eighth of an inch adapter made of a premium aluminium alloy, and that the buyer should "please allow 1-3cm error due to manual measurement".
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Egencia Mailing List Accessibility
A special level of accessibility failure on Egencia's mailing list subscription management page: the labels for choosing which individual mailing lists to subscribe to are properly-configured, but the "unsubscribe all" one isn't. Click the words "unsubscribe all" and... nothing happens.
But it gets better: try keyboard-navigating through the form, and it's hard not to unsubscribe from everything, even if you didn't want to! As soon as the "unsubscribe all" checkbox gets focus, you get instantly unsubscribed: no interaction necessary. -
We made it to the end of another Bleptember, with a photo every day of my especially-bleppy young doggo.
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A champagne-coloured French Bulldog in a teal jumper lies in a soft brown dog bed in the corner of an office. She looks over her shoulder at the photographer, her tongue sticking pretty-much entirely out in a long blep. In front of her, a handwritten sign is marked with a pawprint and a heart and the words 'Happy Bleptember 2025! See you next year!'
Thanks for coming along for the ride. See you next year!
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Somehow, even when she's alert and focussed, our dog's bleppy tongue makes her look at least a little bit dopey.
It's the Twenty-Ninth of Bleptember; we're almost done for another year!
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A champagne-coloured French Bulldog, with her tongue sticking our, sits upright in a dog bed in the corner of an office.
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It's a little wet and miserable this Twenty-Eighth of Bleptember, but what really perturbed this bleppy doggo was somebody she didn't recognise moving a wheelie-bin outside their house. What could they want? Can they be trusted? Might they have ham? 🐶
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At the end of a lead on a wet suburban pavement, a French Bulldog wearing a teal jumper and harness stares into the middle distance, her tongue sticking out.
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Sometimes people connect my unusual name to popular culture. They say things like "Oh, Q like James Bond?" or "Oh, Q like Star Trek?".
I think their choice of franchise tells me more about them than they learn from my answer, which is usually "No, Q like the set of rational numbers."
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Sometimes you're Just Tired. It's been a long week. Happy Twenty-Seventh of Bleptember.
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A half-asleep French Bulldog lies on her side with her tongue resting on the laminate wooden floor.
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Just a mini-blep this Twenty-Sixth of Bleptember, from a certain attention-seeking doggo who insisted on a cuddle from me while I sat in a Zoom meeting.
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A French Bulldog in a teal jumper lies on her back in the arms of a white human, alongside a desk with a computer keyboard. She looks contented and sleepy, and her tongue is slightly sticking-out.