The purposes of the blog
We've decided, like all good institutions, we need things like vision, purpose and mission statements.
The purposes of this blog are:
- to alleviate the stresses and hardships of The Project,
- to participate in unilateral abuse-hurling, and
- to become famous.
Vision and mission to follow.
M
Round Two... Fight!
Let it be shouted through the streets, across hills and dales, o'er mountains and valleys (boyo) that we have finished The Documentation!
And I blatantly won the Sudoku (again).
It is a good day today, for almost everyone, except, that is, for the queues at Wimbledon.
M
More Sudoku wars
It's a tense day.... we're waiting to hear if The Code works and then we can finish The Documentation. Otherwise the world will end.
Today is meant to be a straight hair day but I got caught in the rain.
Milo completely monopolised the Metroku this morning by obscuring the numbers so I couldn't add any and therefore couldn't win. Pfff.
Kat.
Wrrraaahhhhh!
I'm now speaking, thinking and dreaming in CSS code.
I can't make any more words, my cognitive ability has malfunctioned.
Kat
Don't punch the dentist
Yesterday was quite tense.
Yes, The Work and The Documentation is coming to a head, and that's anxious enough, but I rounded off the day with The Fear.
Dentists would have been rounded up and exterminated long ago if they weren't essential for our pearly whites. The chair and sharp, shiny accoutrements are, IMHO, instruments of torture. The tools are smaller, and the drugs better than medieval days, but the gut-wrenching, cracking, scraping and snapping white knuckle ride is probably still the same.
It was just a check-up. The promise of untold horror awaits later next month. Apparently I can't be knocked out "just for fillings".
Joy to the world.
M
Sudoku Wars
In our haste to beat each other at getting the most numbers in the grid this morning we failed for the first time ever to finish the Metroku, our holy grail of Sudoku and daily saviour. There was no saving the grid this time as we only realised we had failed on both trying to get the number 5 in the final empty square only to find we were both wrong - what's the chances?!
The sense of disappointment is very bad for morale. It's a sad day for Metroku.
Kat.
Pardon?
Following Friday's festivities I declare myself half-deaf. This isn't such a bad thing as Kat sits to my right - the side of the ear affected after jumping into a pool at my mate's house.
Consequently K appears to be mumbling much more than usual, and my iTunes playlist is in mono.
Went to a school reunion (Horror) over the weekend, managed to convince someone I worked in the Pr0n industry - technical role, obviously.
So many people with 2.5 kids, others had crossed to the Dark Side and become teachers, and 2 with mammoth Bingo Wings, which I now nominate for Phrase Of The Week.
M
The case for plasticine
Having singularly failed to recreate Yoda with blu-tack and a post-it note, I declare the start of the weekend, and the way forward for plasticine. QED.
Milo.
Today's random task
Today I performed the most random task ever since being here... adding back the ends of someone's fingers to a photo in which they'd been cropped off (make sense? Having trouble articulating today. JO thinks I'm maybe not the best person to have a blog). Now we're wondering whether the guy actually does have 4 whole fingers... if not he's not going to be very happy when he sees this photo.
Was finally coming through the hangover haze when someone Quite Important reminded me of a conversation we had last night. Wraaaaaaah.
Have decided plasticine is the best policy for helping us get through the project launch next month.
Kat.
Word of the week
Well, Kat's off to a flying start today, having damaged her brain during last night's football mayhem.
It's neither a curly or straight-hair day but somewhere between, as the Jedi struggles to summon some last vestiges of Force to complete The Documentation.
The WOTW is Asprin.
Milo
Dentists would have been rounded up and exterminated long ago if they weren't essential for our pearly whites. The chair and sharp, shiny accoutrements are, IMHO, instruments of torture. The tools are smaller, and the drugs better than medieval days, but the gut-wrenching, cracking, scraping and snapping white knuckle ride is probably still the same.