Virus dreaming

Odd dream last night. I got a call on my cell phone, and there was something odd about the caller-ID message on the screen ... I clicked "send" and all of a sudden it was like there had been a virus uploaded to the phone, changing its carrier or something like that, and I was shaking my head in frustration that I'd been tagged by the whatever-it-was.

Weird. Haven't been hit by a computer virus in real life in ... must be six, seven years now? And I don't think that they make viruses for cell phones. It was just ... weird.

gah.

Not "guh" as in "I am unable to articulate the reason that my thoughts have run into the gutter", but "gah" as in "avoid the holiday rush and shoot me now; you'll be doing me a favor."

Raining. Freezing. Walking through rain and slush and snow because the freaking bus driver didn't stop when I dinged the bell, but just cruised right past my stop. After he got lost or something on the way out here from the city. I'm cold, I'm soaked, and I'm looking at a bullet in a spare-change dish and thinking somebody out there is so lucky that slug has already been fired and isn't about to be fired again...

(Dug the bullet out of the back wall of a firing range. Bullets are remarkably heavy things. And you can see the grooves in the slug, you know, the ones they make a big deal out of in crime novels to tell which gun the bullet was shot out of? Naked-eye visible. Sorry to ramble. Need to get my mind off the fact that I am frelling soaked to my skin...)

Superbowl review, now with 100% less Janet Jackson!

I do have a couple or three guilty pleasures. One of them is the Tuesday Morning Quarterback, the weekly football column by Gregg Easterbrook, the columnist for the New Republic who, whatever his other faults, writes a very entertaining column on the NFL. Haiku, Star Trek (on Trek stuff I suspect he could give Andrew the Geek a run for his money), and of course TMQ's Official Rules ("'Tis Better to Have Rushed and Lost Than Never to Have Rushed At All"; "Kick Early, Go For It Late"; and of course, "Stop Me Before I Blitz Again!").

I was also grateful to note that mixed in with the analysis was only a single reference to the commercials this year, and not a word about the halftime show. It was all about the football.

*sigh* I think my brain's turned to guacamole.

Close entry.

Should'a figured.

Rain + snow melt = flooding. There's an inch of water in the basement, and the sump pump's overwhelmed.

Tried to look in to see if there was something blocking the pump, but the flashlight wouldn't penetrate the crap in the water. Tried to use a wet-vac to clear out a little of the water in there, but that didn't work either; four seconds and the vac was full, and no help to the water.

It's gonna be a loooooong night.

*sigh*

Okay, I don't know what was gumming up the sump pump, but I took a chance and unplugged it for thirty seconds, then plugged it back in.

Pump seems to be working okay now. Gonna give it half an hour to see if the fix holds and the water's gone down any.

Tried the wet-vac again, this time just on the floor, and again, it flooded in four seconds. Not too good.

Gonna be a long night, I suspect...