Bash, Shell, etc.

I Love to Bash Shells in the Terminal

A growing assortment of random snippets and informational tidbits on UNIX command line and shell scripting. Check it out.

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Learnings of Ruby

I've truly fallen in love with Ruby. It's the perfect balance of sexy and smart, and it really does make programming fun again. How would I sum it up? "Clever girl." This is my Quiver Ruby notenook. It contains stuff I had to learn, know, and/or keep track of in my Ruby journey. If you're starting out with Ruby, go ahead and take a look!

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dream150101 | From the catalog of miscellany

Geographically near dreamland. Perhaps always, and farther from wakeland. Screaming bliss. Slices of summer childhood slides. Cherry Popsicle mariachis. Pasadena swimming pools' reflections upwardly hue-ing pined Bavarian stucco. Coral structures. Jungle gym buildings, mushroom-cloud-shaped clouds. When you chance upon your city rotated full of funerals and roundabouts. The memories of dreams of memories snowball. Hallelujah! Floating tours of deserted cities. Don't awaken Vodie's damned pink bear opposite clinical structures. Seems to Jacuzzi my mind-fabric. What will I find inside this time, this ride? When I chance the slide of a question mark. The Physics dictate; They force a dot-pool landing. Ergo: ink, what now? Change the scenery? Glorieta Romana Fuentisima ala Broadway? Of what iceberg undersides do I consist? Roots boast no maps. No known end to this deep end. Explore on, young'n.

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Weird Dreams | Don't be so negative, Mingus!

Not so much the nightmares. The bazaar's enclosed neon spaces of dreams waxed strange. The ones that strut like 3AM public access television. Stuck in lightless vacuums, fumbling about like a drunk poltergeist. A manic zoo puma pacing repeatedly in its enclosure. Dysfunctional light switches. Mutating spaces. The tumbling fever dream persistent.

Mirror Wizardry | Racecar is Racecar Spelled Backwards

I got the seats leaned back max. Flauntin' my disgruntled paroxided ponytail behind the Chuck E Cheese counter. Probably camping out in a '92 Astro. Bills. Just-a contact-lensing a travel plan the only way I know how. There're plenty of musky buzzards out there with spot-on Hawaiian shirts. But ask any axe to spill an ox's laugh. They'll Paul Bunyon your ass back through aquarium glass. Yes, there's still shopliftable debris on the runway. But this digital trophy gonna getcha laid behind the gameboy nightclub. Play it cool.

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