For when you tire of using the phrase: “look it up on the internet”.
…so, it’s what, 2012?
Eight years and counting: still the best-sounding MP3 player I’ve ever owned, and still going.
iPhone, you’re definitely the future, but every day you lack a Custom EQ is a tiny insult.
Respect where it’s due: the iPod was definitely the start of Apple’s cross-market domination of design, but it’s never stopped being a compromise of primary function; namely, to reproduce and deliver music as richly as possible.
You don’t need to listen to the entire summary after the comet-bit, though it is delivered from the International Space Station.
You do need to watch the ISS video of Comet Lovejoy.
Remember that moment of childhood when your unbound, unrestricted kid-brain first had to come to terms with the staggering expanse of Human Possibility?
…like you were somehow forced to conclude that all possible human events were happening right that very minute?
…too much?
(Or precisely enough?)
Sometimes, I like to put the stamp on as crappy as possible and just let those fuckers judge me, and wonder: was this truly the work of a sane man?
Feel free to contribute your own, especially if they’re actually funny.
…and for 15 confused, awkward, delightful minutes, as Sam Ash Music closed around us, I totally got my keytar on.
We haven’t spoken since, and honestly, it’s a stretch to think it really would have worked out for the best…
…but a tiny bit of that keytar has stuck with me since that jam-glorious day.
(In a microscopic, discomfiting, Purell-mandating way, I’ve done the same to it.)
(…gross.)
…I remember just enough Quantum Physics to recognize that this shit is pure fucking wizardry. I hope they burned his warlock ass at the stake for this.
(I’ll be honest: while I can explain the levitation and rotation on the ring, I’m nowhere close to a satisfying explanation for its “locking” behavior.)
Rachel: videochat madwoman, or the maddest video chatwoman?
