This is a random typing experiment. I'm just typing whatever pops into my head. You have been warned. There will be only spell check beyond this point.
I've been thinking recently. I wanted to post a thing or two about snarl. Sometimes things that at first seem so complex turn out to be less so. There are few instances that I'm aware of more relevant than computing.
Look at it as a whole. Small currents of electricity arching over a severely engineered city. Capacitors to charge paths, resistors, terminators and minotaurs. Minotaurs are easy to spot as they have the head of a bull and a war axe. Surprisingly enough, you don't see these used as much in commercial circuit boards. The military loves them though.
There are a number of people who will not understand, or even care to understand this. These are those pro minotaur factions that believe all mythological creatures belong only in the pages of fantasy books. The truth of the matter, that they are excellent motivators for alternating current, cannot remained suppressed forever. Who cares, if they exhibit odd behaviors, like the smashing of personal property or the wearing on large rings in their noses.
Fawns. Fawns, while much more pleasant, are useless to circuit board manufactures. It turns out, being able to arrange tea cups by ascending floral patterns, and read Martha newest egg dying techniques has little bearing on the efficient flow of bits through populated circuit board. Go figure.
I was just thinking about buffalo wings. The fact is, for a long time my father had me convinced these came from real buffalo. Once I realized I'd been duped, I poured all my effort into duping others. I believe I was wholly unsuccessful. This made me sad, mostly because it hurt my pride. I just think when it comes to buffalo wings, I'm too emotionally attached to have any good bearing or judgment. If buffalo wings were ever I trial, I would not be able to tell if they were lying. I hope it never comes to that.
Is this a sign that I'm addicted to the spicy orange sparsely meated morsel? Most assuredly. As a red squiggle appears under meated, I'm genuinely surprised it isn't a word. It should be, and so I declare it to be. There. We've just made a change to a living language.
It's raining work. I'm afraid I must float back to the working world. A call to a salesperson. Sigh.