My name is Cédric Bozzi and this is my blog. Mostly, it’s an aggregate of my tweets and Instagram posts, but once in a while you may yet see an actual article here.
Well, it’s not that I needed it (I have 50 free MMSs per months for two months, but afterwards I’d have to pay) but the moblogging script works. I found a simple script, stolen from pMachine, that I could adapt easily enough, so why wouldn’t I take advantage of it — all the more as I should be able to get a few elements from the script into a real, functional, personal wapmail solution.
Did I tell you I felt like playing around on my computer with some toys? Once again I did a roundup of all RSS aggregators, found a new one that’s quite alright (doesn’t crash, reads pretty much all formats, is well put together, knows how to group articles from all blogs and display them in reverse chronological order, etc. — uh, no, actually, it does crash, but not too hard), spent some time adding fifty RSSs to it, and… came back to the same conclusion as always: it’s useless, because a blog is meant to be read in its original layout. Even when the layout is ugly and not personalized, it’s still part of the blog, and the author almost always takes it into account in the way he writes. And, as for being notified within the hour of someone posting… either I’m bored and I’m already browsing all blogs myself every 30 minutes (even when they’re not updated, there can be new comments, which are almost never RSSed), or I’m busy and it can wait.
Case closed, once again.
P.S. Case reopened: I should find a web-based aggregator, from which I could fetch the results and convert them into WML, so I could read blogs on my phone when I’m bored in the subway. Because Google’s gateway is convenient, but it isn’t quite practical.
Je n’arrive pas à croire qu’Yvan Attal est devenu la doublure officielle de Tom Cruise (il n’a rien de mieux à faire que de piquer le boulot à ceux qui sont spécialisés là-dedans ?). n’est déjà pas génial, mais je ne peux pas imaginer ce que ça doit être de le subir avec une VF pareille.
Hallelujah, my Internet access is back!
Which goes to show that it happens much faster if you do sign the paperwork when you’re supposed to.
I just installed ZoneAlarm, out of curiosity, in case I’d need it, or because I was bored and I wanted to have something new on my computer. And, well, for something that’s supposed to bring you peace and safety, this thing is an amazing anxiety. I had only just launched the program, and I was already flooded with alerts, every two minutes, reporting that someone tried to contact my computer. Ooh, I’m scared. Since it’s evidently common, or even normal (well, it’s the reason people install firewalls in the first place, isn’t it?), what I don’t understand is why the default configuration decides to show all those useless alerts.
If I was Joe User and I installed ZoneAlarm and saw all those people trying to hack into my computer, my first reaction wouldn’t be to check the “Do not show these alerts in the future” box (nor to buy Zone Alarm Pro), but to throw my modem out the window.
Release 1.48 fixes a security bug on courier-imap
Right. No wonder my IMAP server isn’t working anymore. Just when I needed it for my personal wapmail solution.
Apart from that, no, I’m not blogging. Because, when I’m not working on Gayattitude, I’m working on the calendar, and, when I’m not working on the calendar, I… have nothing to say.
Bon, ben… je présente mes excuses à Tiscali, je suppose, pour le mal que j’ai pu écrire ici, et l’encore plus de mal que j’ai pensé. Il se trouve que, d’une façon très mystérieuse, la signature de l’autorisation de prélèvement s’est effacée en cours de transport. Ils me l’ont donc renvoyée dès le 14 avril, mais à ce qu’il paraît la Poste a décidé de ne pas nous livrer le courrier pendant la deuxième semaine de vacances. (Parce que j’habite dans un lycée, que pendant cette semaine-là il n’y avait personne à la loge, et qu’il faudrait pas demander au facteur de faire la différence entre le courrier du lycée et le courrier personnel qui arrive à la même adresse.)
C’est la faute de la Poste, donc.
Bon, c’est un peu aussi ma faute, c’était une mauvaise idée de signer l’autorisation à l’encre sympathique, mais c’est surtout la faute de la Poste.
The Explorer layout bug seems to be fixed. Looks like the <img align="left"> added its width to the containing table — which doesn’t happen anymore when I replace it with <img style="float: left;">. There may be some subtlety I’m missing, but I’d vote for a weird MSIE bug, rather.
Doesn’t really matter anyway, I feel like doing a redesign. But I haven’t got “time”. Actually, I have more urgent projects to work on.
Women, in jail, see their menstrual cycles progressively synchronise. It’s hormonal. Now, bloggers who synchronise their productivity cycles, is that hormonal too?
Maybe it’s because, with spring coming, we’re all obsessed with sex. And, since most of us are good-mannered, we don’t blog about it. So we haven’t got anything else to write.
Je m’étais toujours demandé à quoi ressemblaient les panneaux d’affichage 4x3, en-dessous des milliers de couches de papier et de colle.
Pourtant, il a fallu plusieurs semaines pour que je réalise que ces panneaux en métal, devant lesquels mon RER passait régulièrement, étaient justement ça, et pas des restes d’échafaudage.
I mustn’t be reading the right blogs: I didn’t see anyone complain about Gmail encouraging bad quoting, i.e. answering above the quoted text, transforming e-mail exchange into ICQ conversation logs, whereas this media had always been so apt at handling discussions point by point, idea by idea, paragraph by paragraph.
It was already hard fighting the bad habits Microsoft encouraged with Outlook, but if Google gets on the train e-mail is definitively screwed.
Let it be known that I reserve the right to blacklist anyone who misquotes e-mail replies. That’ll be my effort to make the world a better place.
— Sinon j’ai une nouvelle adresse mail, email@example.com
— si si
— Je suis jaloux juste pour le principe, sur le fond je m’en fiche
— Sinon pour t’achever : je vais m’acheter un Powerbook
Vends photos de Nothing, les yeux rougis par les excès d’alcool, de tabac et de sexe. Ecrire au journal qui transmettra.
En même temps, c’est tellement pas original, ça ne devrait intéresser personne.
En plus, les photos sont pour l’instant coincées sur mon téléphone, parce que le logiciel de transfert refuse de se connecter au téléphone, là, tout de suite. Il doit être de mauvaise humeur. C’est comme ça, quand on est dépressif, on n’a envie de rien, même pas d’ouvrir la connexion avec le téléphone. Je comprends ça. Mais c’est chiant, j’ai une photo d’escargot à récupérer ! (Non, ce n’est pas une façon de parler, c’est un vrai escargot — je le dis sans attendre de récupérer l’image parce que, de toute façon, même si j’y arrive, elle sera trop sombre pour que je la publie.)
Remind me of asking you about German car lights. I just lost the long post I was typing about them, because my phone uses the same key for deleting a character and moving back in the history.
Read in Le virus informatique (dates back to February, but I didn’t know, so maybe you don’t either): a ZIP archive can lie about the name and type of the files it contains.
What does it mean? That you double-click a ZIP, opening Winzip or WinRAR or whatever, you see a JPG file in the list, double-click it and, tough luck, an EXE file starts (a virus, a worm, etc.).
I don’t know if some of the archiving programs take that into account and prevent it from happening, but the most obvious workaround is to never launch a compressed file directly from the interface, but first decompress it into a temporary folder.
Combien de mois il peut falloir à Tiscali pour traiter une autorisation de prélèvement ?
Maybe I should invest in a DVD burner — I didn’t know prices had become so affordable. It’s been a while since I last transferred my pictures on a CDROM, because my sessions don’t fit on a single disc anymore. It’s nice that I have lots of room on my hard drive, but on the day it dies I’ll lose all the pictures I’ve made in… a very long time.
Here I am on the train, I survived, it wasn’t so hard this time, except for the neverending journey on a truck and out of the highways. And look, I can blog! Sitting comfortably in the train, I can blog. Don’t you envy me yet? (I’ll have to decide for a carriage return shortcut, because the WAP browser doesn’t seem to have implemented that.)
Even in a truck, with no shock absorbers, nor foam in the seats, at 130 kph you don’t feel like you’re movig. I don’t know how the other drivers manage not to lose their licenses, but when I see that I’m quite glad I don’t have a car. Ain’t no fun in those conditions.
Crap, I knew I had forgotten something: an RSS aggregator. Tough luck, the one I could find on wap.google.com, Bloggo, is incompatible with either my phone or my gateway. I’ll have to think of installing an RSS translator on wap.garoo.net.
It’s time to see wat my phone can do, autonomy-wise — hoping that GPRS doesn’t empty the battery too much.
Note to self, for the day I’m back to my room: my stereo is still on daylight saving times, and it might be a problem if someday I need to wake up on time.
Save me from the countryside! Right now I’m checking out everything I can access with WAP so that I can survive the day I’ll have to spend in the middle of the countryside tomorrow.
I found an MSN Messenger client, but it doesn’t seem to warn of new messages: you have to click a name in the contact list in order to display the history, which means you can’t read messages from people who aren’t in your list. (But is that an advantage or a drawback?)
Since I also have a mail client (that allows me to read messages, but not really send any), it means that those of you who’d want to save me from boredom tomorrow, between rougly 9am and 9pm, can send me e-mail to wap(thingy)garoo.net, including their MSN address. Then they may receive, someday, an MSN message from garoowap(thingy)hotmail.com. Or maybe not. I know you like the way I handle interpersonal relationships.
No MMS-powered photolog, though: seems like my phone isn’t properly configured, and I couldn’t retrieve my telco’s welcome message. I still have the blog’s WAP interface so that I can update you about my day, but… I don’t think I’ll have much to tell. Or maybe I will and my blog will finally look like an SMS-powered blog, with those countless, useless, spelling-impaired short messages. Decidedly, I can’t wait to be tomorrow. Night.
Well, it looks like my telco’s WAP gateway doesn’t acecpt <input type="file"> and I can’t upload directly, and freely, images from my phone. Makes sense: it would allow you to do too much for free.
Still have the MMS option, but that means I’d have to make a server-side script to fetch the pictures, and… I’d pay for each upload. I don’t like the idea of being billed every time I blog.
Not to mention that typing something, even a short post, in a microscopic <input>, without T9 and with a typing system that contradicts the phone’s, is just about unusable.
It’s a pity that the one thing WAP would be good for, text blogging and chatting, is sabotaged by the browser software.
Oh, and, for the paranoids who are interested in the subject:
The Mobile Access Gateway Server always sends the end-user’s subscriber ID in each HTTP request to your Web server. The data (along with some other environment variables) is stored in the HTTP request header.
My phone says hello. It would be much more convenient if the WAP browser didn’t use a totally different keyboard layout from the other functions.
A super-light version of the blog (with only the five last articles, minilog excluded) is already available on wap.garoo.net, and I can validate comments from my cellphone. As soon as I manage to get a form to work, I can moblog, send mini-mail (and maybe even read mail, someday), etc.
I’ve got two free months of WAP access; that should allow me to develop as many functions as I can, and to decide if it’s worth six euros per month.
Squatting another phone line to connect to a pay-per-minute provider, which can only be cheaper and is much more comfortable.
My phone’s WAP access is now configured, and it’s just magical. To anyone who thinks WAP is useless, I suggest to check http://wap.google.com/ out. (Spoiler, for those who can’t try for themselves: Google allows you to access any site — particularly, any blog — from your phone.) All I have to do now is find an ICQ gateway (I found one on SourceForge, but it requires a Windows webserver, yuk) and program a WAP version of my blog’s interface. With (a lot of) luck, I may even be able to upload pictures directly from my phone. (Otherwise, I’ll just MMS my website.)
In the meantime, I have a couple of days’ worth of photolog to upload. And I’ll reming you that photologging cost me 300€, so you better click the thumbnails.
I was wondering why my connection was slow, and whether I had had bad luck choosing a computer tonight, when I realized: this is Friday night, the rooms are full (well, let’s say two-thirds full), the connection is slower. The Internet really sucks, you know.
Yeah, I know what I’m writing tonight is just breathtakingly interesting. But I’m not in the mood — for anything. Some days…
Friday has passed and I still have no Internet at home. Could I really dream that my ISP’s billing services would be working tomorrow and processing my paperwork? Nahhh. Feels like it’s going to be a great week-end. And the weather isn’t even going to be good.
In other news, I had never quite realized that the advertisment we publish on Gayattitude, being just one inch (uh… inches indeed) below porn, can be just a bit embarrassing when you’re logging in from a cybercafé.
This gives me an idea. After the bloggers’ calendar, the bloggers’ karaoke (a.k.a. Blog Idol): each month (or week, why not?), a blogger sings a song of their choosing. It wouldn’t really be interesting, but I’m sure there’d be candidates. For the past few years France has been rediscovering singing (through reality television, but it’s better than nothing), we should go with the flow.
There’s just the copyright problem. But many French bloggers are using radio.blog, a Flash applet that broadcasts music, so it wouldn’t be worse. And then, instead of hosting the MP3s on a website, how about throwing them into Kazaa?
There are homeless people every ten meters on the Rue de Rivoli, I’ve been asked for money three times in ten minutes; I’m going to start feeling guilty for spending my money on cybercafé hours like a dumbass I am.
Fourth day without Internet at home. The first withdrawal symptoms are gone, and I’m now up to the third wave of symptoms: I’m shaking all the time, having trouble standing up, my fingers type in the air, etc.
So, in order to try and fill the void a bit, I went to the computer store district and bought a new modem. I needed that. To survive. No, actually, I needed that to get a spare serial port — I had a choice between buying a USB Wacom tablet, or a USB-IrDA adapter, meaning I would have bought the phone connection kit for nothing, so I chose the third option: keeping the cable (which has the advantage of also charging the battery, and being simpler to use than activating IrDA each time in the phone’s options screen) and switching to an USB modem (which is cheaper than a new tablet).
And now you ask me, how is buying a second modem less a waste of money than owning both a serial and an IrDA phone connection kits? Simple: my modem was old, I thought changing it couldn’t harm and it could only work better. And in any case I’d have a spare modem at hand, which can be much more useful than a spare phone connection cable.
In the end, it’s much better than I hoped: the new modem connects to my provider on the first try, I have no connection problems, and the DNS works immediately. I had had doubts when I tried connecting to another provider on Monday and it wasn’t working too well. But now it’s confirmed, and I don’t get it: how can a modem (an old guy who went through a heat wave last summer) work in a perfectly normal way except for having some trouble initiating connections and… contacting DNS servers?
Being connected from a cybercafé entails an unpleasant pressure I wasn’t used to anymore: paying per hour.
I have all my bookmarks with me, the whole list of sites for my daily reader’s digest on the blog (because the whole world needs it!), but I still keep wondering how I usually manage to keep myself busy all day on the net.
And, more importantly: is the time I spend in front of this computer really worth what it’s costing me? There’s no hesitation about a 25€ monthly contract; but accessing the web for two euros per hour? I’ve got some doubts. But, if I don’t get online here, what am I going to do with my time?
Which means I’m now entering the more annoying, less intellectually gratifying part of my work, and it’s hard getting motivated — even though I have no choice, with the webserver crashing more and more often (which you may have witnessed on this site no later than tonight, by the way).
Here I am, back to my faithful computer 9-11 (isn’t that kind of a bad omen for a computer ID?). It’s my faithful computer of mine, because it has the brightest screen of the aisle, and brightness settings are locked on most of them. Plus, the keyboard works relatively fine — I’ll only have to try another one to see whether Alt-Tab is willingly deactivated in the whole café (I have no idea why it would be, but I have no idea either why all would work but Alt-Tab).
I was just wondering if, since I’m turning my back to the whole room, I would hop onto a gay chatroom, and then I turned around and saw… a gay chatroom, full-screen at the other end of the room. If I had good eyes, I’d be able to recognize who’s in front of the keyboard.
What I don’t like in this cybercafé is that everyone types roughly as fast as I do. This is not the place where I’ll get people to marvel at my talents.
Missed my night bus by very exactly ten seconds, so I’m back here for an hour (well, fifty minutes, because otherwise I’ll miss my bus again). I don’t know yet whether I’m actually happy to spend one more hour on the web, or if I’ll fall asleep in front of the keyboard and have a little 3€-an-hour nap. (Incidentally, the keyboard isn’t as bad as the one I typed my previous post on, it’s getting better. And there’s no contest that working with an LCD monitor feels nice.)
If someone’s nearby, now’s the time to meet Garoo! Well, I’ve got no ICQ, no mail, my cell’s battery is empty, but still, I’m there! A few meters away from you! (Well, probably not you, but at least some French readers.) Can you realize?
P.S. Oh, yes, the T1-or-something connection isn’t bad either. Good thing there isn’t the whole comfort of an apartment around me, or I’d get used to that.
First post away from home, ever. Now that’s something. But I don’t know what to write. Hi, my name is Garoo, I’m connected from the XS Arena on Boulevard Sébastopol, the keyboard is quite unpleasant to use, and I have nothing to say. Well, not exactly: I had mentally noted a bunch of things to write about, but it’s out of my mind for now.
So, in no particular order, just as it comes: I’ll have to check the comments’ IP addresses as soon as I’ve got a connection again (I created a special user, whose password I’ll change regularly, so that I could administrate my website from the café — and I’m gonna be so happy I installed SiteBar on garoo.net — but I’m not going to risk typing my MySQL login from here), because I think it’s evolving oddly. It was getting out of hand on the French Idol post, so I closed the comments; now it’s getting weird on the Entrée des artistes (another show, quite similar, but targeted more toward older viewers) post, even though it had been completely left alone until then. Now, on the same day, two commenters have asserted they had been on the show (but then, why not, they’re allowed to use Google like everyone else), and a fan insults my readers (and me). As a result, comments on this post are not only closed, but removed: true that some of them could be considered insulting — I had only validated them because, for me, “faggot” isn’t an insult, but I can understand some people would disagree.
What else? I have a feeling that the Samsung’s sound isn’t too great, but I won’t be bothered to make a real comparative review; the battery is already dead, but since I had never charged it myself — not to mention that, for lack of an Internet connection, I have used my free night communications like I never did — it’s too early to judge. I already knew, before I bought it, that the battery indicator wasn’t quite reliable, so I guess it’s to late to complain about that. Or about the fact that the screen is so bright, there’s no way you can be unnoticed while photographing, even when turning the shutter sound all the way down. Or that when the battery is low the screen’s backlight doesn’t turn on anymore and it gets absolutely unreadable. Or, more generally, about all that’s a bit annoying throughout the user interface.
I mustn’t ever make tech purchases again. The phone? Disappointing. The Matrox triple-head card? I’ve had it for months and I still only have two screens. The camera? Oh, no, the camera works just perfectly, but I didn’t buy it myself. What a coincidence. Same thing about the computers. I’m doomed, that much is clear.
I had other stuff to say, but I didn’t carry my notes. I wasn’t sure I’d go to the cybercafé. Because that thing is scary. It’s full of… uh, computers? Oh, no: people. They’re awful, people.
So that’ll be all for now. I have some intense surfing and catch-up to do.
P.S. Oh, looks like the blog’s home page has a problem on Internet Explorer. I may thing about it later. Or maybe I’ll just choose to forget.
Your access is restricted for lack of payment.”
No Internet access and tiny judiciary threats, how sweet. Two possibilities: either they screwed up (you should expect anything with Tiscali) or I made a big mistake when I paid the phone with my debit card (it was a reflex, I didn’t think about the weekly maximum debit).
Of course, it had to happen on a holiday.
I sent an e-mail to my cell operator to ask them if I was entitled to use WAP (I have a particular contract, with free calls on nights and week-ends, which basically entitles me to be treated like a pariah they want to get rid of), but I don’t understand their website. I don’t know whether it’s interesting (I wouldn’t mind developing a WAP version of gayattitude… and of my blog’s administration pages, of course) but, more importantly, I don’t understand how much it costs. Is it an all-including low price, or do you have to pay an additional fee for each operation? I have hardly ever seen such a confuse offer on a commercial site. I can’t even find any mention of access to another WAP site than Vodafone’s portal.
On the other hand, there’s the French i-mode site, which is quite clear: it’s expensive — and that’s what makes me weary of SFR’s offer. Figures that, with the profit operators make from SMS addicts, they’re not going to refrain from taxing e-mails. That sucks. Instead of my wifi Clié, I would have liked to use WAP chats, WAP mail and a WAP ICQ gateway.
Additional serial ports seem to be amazingly expensive.
Maybe I’ll rather switch to a USB Wacom tablet, I’d get a free port and it wouldn’t hurt either. No, tablets are really too expensive.
Fantastic: since the Wacom driver is monopolizing the first serial port even when the tablet isn’t connected (the Wacom drivers are particularly… uh, oddly programmed, I’ll say), when I want to connect the phone I have to unplug the dialup modem.
I’ll confess it’s pretty pleasant to edit the phonebook on the computer and find out afterwards that everything got updated in real time on the phone’s side. (Sorry about this, Garoo is discovering recent phones, he was using a Nokia 6110 until today.)
As for transferring files, the system isn’t extraordinary, but it’s usable. And, with my G3, I was already used to having to use the device’s menu to erase the pictures after I had uploaded them, so it won’t be new to me.
And the picture quality? Well, it’s about what I expected. (Which means, yes, a bit crappy.) You’ll see some samples in the left-hand column as soon as I have coded the PHP scripts to URL-brand them automatically.
Did I tell you I was unlucky with technology purchases? I’ve had to go through three Dartys (those are large, cheap electronics stores) before someone told me the V200 and P400 weren’t quite available any more and I was unlikely to find them anywhere (thank you very much to the Darty website, which claims that “
The information about model availability is updated permanently. A model that is specified as available in a store actually is at the time of your connection.”). Once I’m at the Madeleine Darty, I choose the X600, which is a bit more expensive but has a few more functions and a nicer interface. Let’s not care too much about the fact that the box was open and the battery was precharged, so I’m probably not the first one using this phone, but everything seems to work, it’s clean, there’s nothing to complain about. Except for the fact that I had to go through three more Dartys for someone to tell me that the connection kit doesn’t exist in USB and won’t be available anywhere (contrary to what one of the first salesmen had told me).
Result: the phone looks much more modern and nice than the one I intended to buy, but it’s one hundred euros more expensive when you include the PC connection kit (which I knew before I bought it — it just happens to be the cheapest acceptable model); it makes 640x480 photos but insists on beeping even in silent mode (damn recent cameraphones); I haven’t got enough serial ports to plug in the modem, the Wacom tablet and the phone; for fifty more euros I could order on Sony’s webiste a Clié TJ37 with a camera and wifi access.
I’m tired of technology. I’m tired of people, too, especially on Saturdays in malls. I’m tired of technology and people, which makes perfect sense since technology is designed and realized by people. I can’t wait for second-generation robots.
For the past three weeks, I’ve been losing two pounds per week (a new diet — I’ll tell you more about it when I know if it works, i.e. if can stabilize my weight when I’m done) and each time I look at myself in the mirror I look fatter. Great. The thing is my body tends to spread fat all over (either because I started early, or because I have a very low testosterone level, who knows) but, like for all men, the hardest part is losing my belly. So, when I’m overweight, I look smooth as a baby; when I’m less overweight, all I’ve got left is a patch of fat around my navel, and a jelly butt. If I didn’t need to wear a belt so that my pants stay up, I’d believe my scale1 is lying.
1: Babelfish translation. I have no idea what the correct idiom is for that thing you step onto when you want to know your weight.
(Skipping the part about asking my readers to tell me how the all-night Paris cybercafé works.)
To keep you up to date, since I know you’re particularly enthusiastic about my adventures (just judging by the number of comments on those posts, as opposed to my real-TV posts), I’ll try to run into an electronics store tomorrow and seize a Samsung V200, if they have one (which is far from certain — their website says they do, but I haven’t seen it on display). This way I’ll be rid of the problem, and I’ll just buy a top of the line Clié later, when I can really afford it. (Popular electronics store, center of Paris, a Saturday… it’s gonna be hell… but I have to, it’s an emergency.)
When I’m done (which isn’t going to be soon, considering I’ll have to rewrite absolutely everything in order to make as much of it static as I can), I may create a light version, with limited functionalities, so that people can chat through wifi on a Clié — random example, of course.
Cold weather ⇒ blocked nose ⇒ sore throat when I wake up ⇒ waaaah.
PalmOne inexplicably has only one model with an embedded camera, the Sony line is so messy that there aren’t two stores presenting the same models, and it would definitely not be reasonable to spend a fortune for a PDA.
I could buy the cheapest gadget camera, plus the cheapest vibrating phone, and feel richer and much less guilty. But much less satisfied, too.
I have no need for a Clié. I have no need for a Clié. I have no need for a Clié. I have no need for a Clié.
After all, who needs wifi when you’ve got cybercafés?
Does it make any sense to buy a 200€ camera phone, considering I can have a Palm or Clié with camera, wifi, web browser and much more stuff for just three hundred more francs1?
Does it make any sense to buy a PDA, considering I spend a lot of time in public transportation and I’ll never dare take it out in the bus when I’ve got notes to take — and, if I do take it out, I risk not seeing it ever again?
Does it make any sense to buy either, considering that, three months from now (damn, three months!!2), either I’ll be exiled in Normandy and I won’t have any use for it, or I’ll be largely able to afford better?
Argh. I’d better wait until I just forget about it. But I’ve always dreamed of having a vibrator (mmh) and a portable Internet access.
1: Oops, got the wrong units again. This afternoon, it’s only after I paid that I realized 7.50€ for crappy rice and crappy steam raviolis was a lot.
2: Did you notice how I was meaning to write three exclamation points but couldn’t, because it’s evil?
Deux candidats des Colocataires qui viennent de DialH, ça ne peut pas être une coïncidence. Et ils n’ont même pas encore tous été présentés dans la presse, je me demande ce que ça va donner ce soir.
Ils ont réutilisé le fichier de chatteurs démarchés pour Queer Eye, ou tous les casteurs de télé-réalité se donnent rendez-vous là ?
S’il se passe des choses la nuit, j’imagine qu’ils ont prévu de ne rien diffuser sur M6 et d’organiser des fuites sur le web.
P.S. Si je mets un lien vers leurs comptes “picsers” respectifs sur citegay, c’est une atteinte à la vie privée ?
Bah, c’est pas la peine, de toute façon, ça ne va pas tarder à circuler.
P.S. Trois tapettes minimum (bon, pour l’un des trois, le deuxième dialheur, ça saute moins aux yeux, vous n’avez peut-être pas vu) : je ne sais pas ce qu’ils avaient en tête en planifiant le casting mais ça a l’air raté, je suis le seul blogueur à en parler !
I have a problem with earplugs: I used to like the simple yellow foam cylinders, but now all I can find in stores are pseudo-ergonomic rocket-shaped thingies that blow my ears out so badly I wake up after an hour, feeling my head is about to explode. (Reminder: there are two computers in my bedroom and I never turn them off.)
And then, a miracle: two weeks ago, I buy a Samsonite light-blocking mask-thing (can’t remember what it’s called), thinking I’ll throw away the accompanying earplugs. And it’ll be the opposite: I’m going to get rid of the mask (I can’t sleep with that — I did expect so, but I had to try) but the earplugs are high-tech, soft, comfortable and efficient. And, as a bonus, they stay clean. Recommended for anyone living in a server room or near an international airport.
I could have made some stylistic efforts in order to make this uninteresting post a bit more worthy, but I don’t feel like it.
Not to mention that the picture is lame, because the camera had some trouble with bright orange.
Spending my money has never been so hard. No shoes I liked, no clothes I liked and, more importantly, no trace of the Samsung V200 in any of the stores I went to. I finally saved the day when I found a little jacket at Auchan, but that’s not satisfying.
Regarding the phone, I’m worried. I had gotten quite used to it, virtually. I had looked up how it works, I loved how the swiveling lens was the most inconspicuous imaginable way of stealing people’s souls — uh, I mean image — in the subway. What’s a garoo to do now? It was the cheapest cameraphone on the list, and it looked perfect for me. That was too good.
Je devrais me tenir plus au courant, je ne savais pas que la déclaration obligatoire de séropositivité était
revenuepassée (et pourtant, visiblement, c’est pas récent). Quand ils avaient commencé à en parler, je trouvais que c’était une mauvaise idée de faire peur aux gens qui doivent se faire tester, parce que la priorité est surtout que les séropositifs connaissent leur statut. Et… ben, je continue à le penser. Même si, d’après une recherche rapide, ça ne s’applique pas aux centres de dépistage anonyme, ce qui m’échappe un peu — mais je n’ai pas fait médecine, je ne dois pas pouvoir comprendre.
Est-ce qu’il ne suffirait pas plutôt de compter les tests positifs, en demandant à chaque positif si c’est la première fois ou s’il a déjà été compté ? Le nombre de réponses fausses serait sûrement plus faible que le nombre de positifs anonymes qui n’iront jamais chez un médecin après.
Quand il est descendu du Noctambus, je me suis dit que ça serait marrant que je le croise un jour sur un chat.
Trois quarts d’heure plus tard, je le croisais sur un chat.
J’ai décidément une vie passionnante, quand je prends le Noctambus.
En passant, je me demande si la fréquentation des bus a changé, ou si c’est moi qui suis plus vieux et blasé. Quand je le prenais, il y a quelques années (à vue de nez, quatre ou cinq ans), ce n’était pas forcément le moyen de transport le plus rassurant. Maintenant, c’est surtout plein de tapettes (l’avantage de prendre la ligne qui passe par Vincennes, je suppose) et de littéraires à dreadlocks. Je ne suis pas sûr, mais j’ai quand même vraiment l’impression que c’est plus calme qu’avant — et plus rempli.
D’ailleurs, si le prix du ticket a été divisé par trois, c’est bien que ça doit être plus rempli.
I dreamt of Sylvie Vartan and when I get up she’s on TV. Spooky. Why can’t I ever use my psychic powers in more productive ways?
Proof that I buy crap and that’s not new:
— Hi. It’s about a refund. I’m not quite satisfied and I’d like to go back to your store and…
— Oh, I’m sorry, Sir, but lives are not returnable, that’s our standard policy.
kom y avais eus un accident et que le nocte euh nokte euh enfin le bus de nuit koi ben il avais du faire une deviation ben on a dus faire toute la deviation dans champygny et finalemnt on a meme du prendre l’autoroute un petit moment et ct trop cool. pk normalement les bus y vont pas sur l’autoroute. pk c des bus et ke l’autoroute c pour les voiture enfin vous avié compris non? bon et ct bizar pk on est passes par la ou avant nous on passais kan on revenais de continent a ormeson et meme que continent ca existe plu ms de tte facon on est pas passe devant, mais sur le chemin y avais un ronpoint alors k’avant y en avais pas. ct bizar ca m’a fait droles . enfin voila ct juste pk y en a ki trouve que je raconte pas assez ma vie alors voila ct pour leur faire plaisirs un peu.
Too many complex words to translate at 5am, sorry:
Ca y est ! Je savais que ça arriverait un jour, et c’est devenu officiel ce soir. Je suis une vieille fille acariâtre et intransigeante. Célibataire à vie. Plus qu’à élever des chats par dizaines.
I forgot my water pack near the fruits and vegetables counter. Arg. Last night, it was at the ham display. I’m going to die this week-end, out of dehydratation. And all my apologies to the person who’ll have to replace the water where it belongs to, at the other end of the store.
Hallelujah, I’m rich again!
I’m jealous. Dead jealous. Look here. The column on the right. Jealous I am.
I’ve never been much for fan-arts and always thought it was a bit silly and not quite useful. But I’m still jealous. So I was thinking that if ever, by chance, people sent me some fan-art, I would create a category in my sideblog and publish them along the blog. Voilà. Just saying. In case.
(Rules: a body part of your choosing with “garoo” written on it, for real. The second fan-art on the page I linked above hence does not qualify, as nice as it is.)
Well, I was just thinking aloud here, you know, not meaning to say anything.
Gmail (Google Mail) hasn’t disappeared after April the first and seems to be quite real. (Though I doubt the announcement date is a coincidence — nice way to get twice the pre-launch buzz, thanks to all the bloggers wondering if it’s for real.) Who would have thought there was still money to be made from a free webmail?
It’ll be interesting to see how the competition is forced to evolve. Funny that I was criticizing Six Apart’s expansionism, but I trust Google. It’s instinctive, and I can never much justify what’s instinctive. Is it Movable Type’s not really free license? (As a programmer, I can very, very well understand the choice not to use the GPL, but I never considered the “free only for personal use” license to be quite elegant.) Or Typepad’s incredibly high prices? Or how they granted exclusive rights on all their licenses in France to Loïc Le Meur?
The fact is that Google’s net credibility is unrivaled. I was going to write “unshakable”, but nobody is, particularly in that field. What’s really interesting in their offer is the gigabyte of data. (No, really?) Because of its direct consequence: unlike all the other webmails, they will have an excellent reason to include an efficient anti-spam / anti-virus system. Since nobody will ever delete a message from their account, they’d better provide good filters.
Now I hope nobody gets garoo @ gmail.com before I do (and also that they bought other domains, because that one isn’t quite hot).
Ca existe, un plan de Paris libre de droits ?
You know what? I’m fed up with white and light blue. It’s time to reset the random layout generator.
En avril, ne te découvre pas d’un fil.”
I’ve had a bit of trouble with the colors, as always when there’s too much red stuff on the picture. Too bad that none of the pictures in the bathtub series (see the bonus tracks) was usable for the calendar. That’s what was planned for originally. For April’s Fools (“April’s fish” in French).
C’est avec un brushing comme ça qu’on va gagner l’Eurovision ?
Je ne me souvenais pas que les candidats étaient si mauvais que ça, au casting. Ni le jury.
Dire que j’étais fan de Marianne James. D’accord, moi aussi, j’insulte mon public. Mais je n’essaie pas de vous vendre un spectacle en parallèle.
Argh. The weather’s incredible, and I can’t go out tonight. It’s the beginning of the month, I haven’t bought my subway pass in advance, my check hasn’t been credited yet, I’m as deep in the red as I’m allowed to be, because I started spending too early.
Tomorrow: rain. Damn.
Now that was bound to happen. I thought it would happen a bit later, but there it is. Three months is already nice, isn’t it?
I didn’t quite know what I was getting into with this calendar idea. Actually, I did: I knew very well I could fail, but I didn’t expect the reason for it would be that. Not that it’s hard to make one picture per month (even I can commit myself to that). Not that it’s hard to make a calendar picture per month (which multiplies the difficulty ten-fold, because you have to frame the model from head to toe, and it has to have some kind of meaning, and fit in the wallpaper format, etc., what a pain). But because I had decided to take pictures of bloggers. People who spend their time controlling their image, and only exist in seduction (and choosing to specialize in gay bloggers certainly didn’t help), posing naked? Right.
So there we are: rather than spending another fortnight convincing another blogger to take off his clothes, then strike a pose, then accept the publication of the best picture (and you know how bad I am at compromise and negociations), there won’t be an April 2004. Nor a May, June, etc.
I would offer to hand the project to someone else, but it’s a bit late for April, and that’s just as well. This has been too troublesome, I’m actually rather glad it stops. Even that early.
Besides, completing an endeavor? Me? That would ruin my public image.