I got accepted asked to register for the beta! Now I just need a PC!
The NFusion's channel labels work now, after changing the Primary Network setting from DISH to Bell, and perusing my many choices this weekend (as far as my guide goes, limited as it is to the next hour's programming) what should I happen across on the "Action" network but Mortal Kombat: Conquest from years back! If my life can be summed up as one guilty pleasure after another, then this has to be a Casey Novak case where the defendant loses it on the stand and has to be carried out in restraints.
Like I told 비, I think I make myself sick to justify staying at home for work (and waking up too late). The only real difference telecommuting—apart from the savings to the environment, my gas tank and all around—is my slightly less comfortable non-Aeron metal folding chair from Target. And multitasking to cable and the millions of gil I spent forcing down my HP for a 1339 Flare, not to mention the hours last night popping the Asklepios NM.
Quite entertaining, from the anachronistic 80's theme music to the stirred memories of reading early 20th-century French mysteries not only of Gaston Leroux like Le mystère de la chambre jaune but also those featuring Arsène Lupin (and Fantômas!), Petit Larousse in hand. In fact, I had a dream I was being quizzed on French pronouns and prepositions this morning. Then I woke up parched; I swore it was a visit from Dehydron, who's less an ally of Homer's Gamblor than one of those creepy aliens from Ultraseven.
After assembling the dish last week, I finally dug up some coax and hooked it into the receiver, with mixed results. Good: got a decent signal, as worried I was about not facing due South. 500+ channels, 2% of them pr0n. Good enough: it's only to (presumably, from all the French) a Canadian satellite, the labels don't match and guide doesn't work. Meanwhile Time Warner continues to bill me, according to the guy behind the bulletproof window, because they haven't gotten around to disconnecting me from "the pole."
I've got some bloggin' to do about my trip to the East Coast, but I thought I'd try one of those reverse gimmicks (which I saw recently—oh yeah, Michael Clayton; I liked Clooney a lot in the Solaris remake, but this was an Academy Award contender? Had nothing on The Insider from a while back) and relate an incident on the freeway this afternoon: I merged onto the 91 in front of a headlit van driven by a large red-haired woman who was leaned over as if reaching under the seat. At least two car lengths separated us, I signaled in advance and moved over slowly enough but saw in the mirror that she gave me the finger! I then felt entitled to hypothesize she was holding up a side of her body as she swung into the exit lane to the right, anyway. Was a big oaf on the return flight, too, who rested his arm over his shoulder and covered my Red™ screen with his clumsy-looking hand. Ironic that most the people in the cities, with the exception of a fascist Amtrak employee who barked back, "don't shush me" to a customer, weren't nearly as rude. Nice Black fellow who saw us get off the shuttle from Dulles being led around by the weight of our backpacks kindly directed us to the nearest McDonald's.
$62/month for hundreds of channels displaying a message telling me to subscribe to them? I'll try my luck with FTA. Way I figure, equipment will pay for itself by fall. What's left on TV for me, anyway? I have a sneaking suspicion all that Law & Order before bed is making me dream so much lately, keeping me "watching" and from getting a good night's sleep.
