Last night, I had a mildly annoying problem: a muscle started twitching automatically.
It was my left butt cheek.
Twitch.
Twitch.
Rumba, rumba, rumba, rumba.
While the rest of me tried to sleep. my left cheek was dancing and shaking.
Does anyone want a left butt cheek who wants to party? I'm willing to trade...
[FYI: I've had this before: it means that I'm not getting enough potassium in my diet. I've taken some potassium, and my butt is better. But the image of a dancing butt cheek was too funny NOT to share.]
Last night, I got turned around in Koreatown, Los Angeles.
You know those scenes in movies where the director emphasizes alienness by showing an area with no English words and non-English music?
Yeah. It looked like that for a moment. But the feeling of alienness rather quickly gets spoiled when the music in alien languages is... K-pop boy bands. And, even if you can't read the signs, you can smell delicious, spicy meat being grilled and rich broths simmering in the restaurants.
The language is flowery, poetic, and useless. Here's an example:
Physical attributes offer a tantalizing glimpse into the man’s enigmatic persona. Of Hispanic descent and approximately 39 years of age, he stands tall with a robust build, his height estimated at 5’9″ and his weight at 240 pounds. His dark hair and brown eyes add a touch of solemn intrigue to his otherwise unknown features.
I admit this is more fun to read than a list of attributes, but "his otherwise unknown features" implies that no one can know anything else about the man's features. They must be covered in smoke!
I am at MUD/WTR, the most California spot in all of Santa Monica. Mushroom drinks, candles, sound baths, huge artwork of a naked lady, hippies, and beanbag chairs.
Me: I wrote a program that can code anything! Anything at all! Just write test code of what you want, and it will figure out code for you!
You: Hey, wait. Your program literally generates every possible Clojure program, runs the code it created, then checks whether it gets the right answer...
Me: I never said that my program was efficient at creating its code...
The E. Jean Carroll trial only cost him $83.3 million.
So that's about one percent of his claimed net worth. According to his claimed net worth, this judgement might sting a little bit.
Yes, I know that he lied about his net worth. He's constantly lying about his net worth. If he's getting the benefits of his lies, he should also have to suffer from his lies.