Electric Josh

Superb data toy! Hours of fun. Don't try it at work, lest you get nothing done the rest of the day.
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Toddler T-shirt slogans.
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World leader fonts.
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Jokes made by robots, for robots.
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How to sell sweaters: Indoors, women are useful—even pleasant. On the mountain they are something of a drag. (original)
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A public service advertisement that reassures us that there's nothing better than pottymouth and ignoring your kids: Want your kid to think you can't do the moonwalk?
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Let us remember that The Onion predicted the disgusted retirement of football coach Bill Parcells several weeks before he actually retired. "I leave the game and the NFL with nothing but good feelings and gratitude to all the players, coaches and other people that have assisted me in that regard," he said in real life, but I prefer:

"You guys thought I was hard on [my players] to make them better players," Parcells added, "but really I was hard on them because, except for Harry Carson and that one blond guy from the Giants, I hated every man who ever played for me very, very much."

Bernie in the Times. This is among many reasons this space is glad to be from Vermont.
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A Stirling Engine fan for the top of a hot stove. Very nice.
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So a woman in Binghamton, NY filed a Title IX complaint about cheerleaders not being sent to girls basketball games, and now the cheerleaders have to go to the girls basketball games, too. No one is happy except for me. This is awesome on at least four or five levels, not least because I enjoy neither cheerleading nor high school girls basketball.
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This space has randomly discovered that not only does the office wireless ethernet reach down the hall to the bay window that hangs out over the Black Falcon shipping channel, but this time of year there is almost always a beautiful sunset right over said channel, water in the foreground and Southie eating the sun in the background. It's unbelievably pretty, and it's a nice relief from the cubicle shaded LCD screen that I spend most days staring at. So for the last few days I've been pounding out the day's last code in the hallway under a random office plant by the window. The only problem is that glancing at the descending sun bleaches out my retinas for a few seconds, so looking at the computer screen requires some readjustment. Once the sky stops being orange it's time to close up and go home. Nice.
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For my own convenience, I've added my former hometown paper to the sidebar. Not much happens in central Vermont, so it's usually an easy read.
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So I've rediscovered the excellent archive of (public domain) plates from Gray's Anatomy (c. 1918) on Bartleby. So here's a small hip. Enjoy.
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It was in the mid-60's in Quincy when I got up this morning, and the temperature in central Vermont is way, way above freezing. I'm sure everything is totally fine.
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