Well, not really that awe-inspiring. But it does show that the Sheevaplug boots and runs out of the box. Given that it has only 512MB of RAM and the same amount of Flash storage, it’s a fairly small system.
I really want to have this replace my Firefly Media Server installation on the laptop. First, I need to work out how to get it to boot from an external HD.
Take heed, fell people of Storex: may your website forever remain broken for the crime of putting a tamper-resistant product sticker on the front of my filing cabinet. The hour spent removing its tiny sticky shards was not a pleasant one, nor will it be one I get back, mark my words.
Know this, excellent people of Scraperite: your blades of finest vorpal plastic cut through the sticky clogging evil like enchanted senna through a dwarven granny.
New job, so new phone. Within minutes of turning it on, I get text message spam. I get two every day, at just after 6am and 6pm. They’re all from the one number — 647 238 9575 — and they’re all from someone who (purportedly) loves me very much, and wants me back in their life. Knowing me, it’s understandable, but I know spam scam when I see it.
I accidentally dropped and broke my car mp3 player, so had to come up with another music solution. I caved and bought an iTrip for my iPod Nano. It sounds pretty good.
What’s good about it is that it allows you to charge your iPod from a standard USB Mini-B. What’s not so good is that it doesn’t have full USB pass-through, so you can’t sync your iPod, and have to stick with that stupid dock cable.
(and don’t get me started on the really annoying connector on my work cell phone …)
Pretty much since the new year, I let me hair just go. This was mostly because I’d lost the coordinates for Arthur, the Scottish barber who first dealt with my hair in 2006, and I’d been following him from location to location. I have weird hair, and Arthur knew just what to do to make it behave.
A couple of weeks back, I was wandering idly along the Danforth, and after looking into a barber’s window, cursed the fact that I’d lost touch with Arthur. I walked a little further and — as if by magic — met Arthur. It seems he’s moved to the neighbourhood, so now we’re back in touch. The haircut I got on the weekend is awesome.
Arthur now does house calls (preferably near TTC stops), and is looking for some new clients. He’s been doing this for longer than you’ve (likely) been alive. I hesitate to post his phone number, so please contact me and I’ll pass on the details.