Please enjoy jwz mixtape 163.
Supervisor Jane Kim is fighting to get the National Football League, not San Francisco taxpayers, to foot the nearly $5 million bill for the costs associated with upcoming Super Bowl 50 events. [...]
"City departments have been requested by the Mayor's Office to identify $4,375,765 of surplus in their General Fund allocations and/or redirect staff time and other resources from planned projects to support this extraordinary special event," the analysis states.
Come for the not-quite-competent hardware hacking, stay for the snark about the Arduino Ethernet library!
I woke up the next morning and cried at my boyfriend about how badly I didn't want to go to Disneyland, despite the fact that we had no plans to go to Disneyland that day or ever. After calming me down, he tucked me back into bed with a big bag of salt and vinegar potato chips and turned on Gilmore Girls. After hallucinating that Lauren Graham's face was morphing into Ryan Gosling's face for just a few seconds at a time, such that nobody besides me had ever noticed, I proceeded to nap for four hours. I woke up with potato chips all over my body, then asked my boyfriend to help wash me off in the shower because I didn't feel capable of doing that on my own. I also vaguely remember having a mild panic attack about the fact that I didn't know where our cat was. We don't have a cat.
The next few days are a blur of snacking and crying. There are 10 text threads on my phone that I don't remember typing and mysterious empty bags of Cheetos strewn about my apartment.
With the former, I began to notice something wasn't right on my walk home from the lab for a dinner break. The people across the street took on the appearance of a Mexican day of the dead festival. While Dock Ellis may be able to pitch a no hitter while under the influence of LSD, I was not as confident in my abilities to work on LSM-775 and rather than returning to the lab I decided to take the evening off."
"The evening was spent staring at a wall while periodically monitoring my vitals.
"The last verse is a shortwave radio message from the last man on Earth."
Judges would also accept The Black Hit of Space.