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OK, well, more Pigdog staffers came in with Christmas
wish lists over the weekend. I don't know what these are
supposed to prove, but I'd be remiss not to report them --
if only to publicly record their dreams, so when they're
dashed on 12/25/1999, we can all laugh at them.
Uh, OK, more lists.
Flesh:
- Another chance to do New Orleans. This time w/o a fat
southern pedophile to ruin all the fun.
- Two round trip tickets to Alaska- a month.
- A nice big house on the side of a Mountain.
Thom Stark:
- World peace
- Universal harmony
- Fluffy puppies for all humankind
Thom adds: "Oh..you meant what I REALLY want for Xmas?
Because my needs are simple, there's really only two things:"
- Galactic Domination
- Personal Immortality
Eugene:
- a fully usable (Drexlerian) assembler, with a nice NanoCAD/simulator GUI.
- a library of well-debugged designs for the above
- a bottle of Laphroaig single malt to have a second data point vs Auchentoshan
- a (wearable|implantable) Linux box automagically upgrading itself without breaking anything
- have my H1B visa arrive soonest
- a bottle of a cumulative smart drug which truly deserves the term
- instant godhead toolkit (first point is a good substitute, though)
"Tricky" Rick Moen:
- "I'd like to live just long enough to be there when they cut off your
head and stick it on a pike as a warning to the next ten generations
that some favors come with too high a price. I'd look up at your
lifeless eyes and wave like this."
Rick adds: Actually, most years, surviving Christmas
is gift enough. Life recommences after the 26th.
Crackmonkey:
- A hole so deep that things you drop in it reappear in your
house
- Mountains so tall that they freshen your breath
- A diet soda so delicious that it can cure headaches
- Paper so thin that it can pass through your body unnoticed
- A Guinness so strong that it colors your socks
- Espresso so dark that it causes you to go blind
- An apartment so large that the front door never leads into
the same room twice in a row
- A woman so tender that she crumbles to dust in my hands,
leaving me with nothing but a fond memory of what could have
vagrant@pigdog.org
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