I have a facebook joke, but it is not true.

Listening to a program(me) about security on CBC Radio One this morning before dawn.  The presenter mentions that she was getting ads on her phone about the topic of secured email hosting.  She was researching the topic and discussing it aloud with colleagues.

I'm reminded why I do not use apps where possible.  I don't like ads, especially where ads are being generated because your app has been listening into you.

Revoke access to the microphone in any app you can.  This is one way that they do it, this is not in your benefit.


On the other hand, when I was a programmer, I was known as the Programmer Of Record in two different very large organizations.   If you had a problem you could not figure out, they would get me involved and I'd solve it.  Friday afternoons, we'd hit a "Tavern" in Philadelphia.  I'd have a Roast Pork Sandwich and a glass of Stout.  Roast pork in Philadelphia is particularly excellent. 

But I'd return to the office, ready to solve your problems.  It was well known.




Once there was a regional darts champion, who found that his darts flew with even greater accuracy after he’d had a drink or two.

Unfortunately, all of his local mates quickly learned to never wager against him, especially if he had been drinking.

One night, he arrived at the pub to find a stranger standing on a bench issuing a challenge. “I reckon I can beat any one of y’all in a game of darts, and I’ll put up the money to prove it,“ she said. “I’m fixin’ to wager $1,000 on a simple game of darts. Three throws, and if ANY of your throws beat a single one of mine, you win the whole pot.“

The crowd murmured, and all eyes turned to the dart champion. “OK, stranger. I’ll take that bet…but let’s make it $10,000.”

“Sound good,” she said, “but I have one condition: each one of us takes a drink before we play, and we each choose the other’s drink.”

The dart champion’s face lit up, as he couldn’t believe his luck. “Fine by me, stranger. You’ll have bourbon whiskey, a double.”

“And you’ll have absinthe, a single shot,” she replied. The bartender served them up, each downed their drinks, and the game was on. She was the first to throw, scoring a double eight. He smirked, believing that with a throw as mediocre as that one, she had already lost the game. Aiming at the bullseye, he let his dart fly, and was shocked when it hit the numbered ring on the outside perimeter of the board, scoring zero points.

Next, she threw a triple two, and his throw went wide, the dart impaling the the wood panel the dartboard hung on. He was aghast; it was the first time that he had missed the dartboard in years.

On her third and final throw, she threw a double five. Concentrating all of his focus, he aimed at the exact center of the board, and was shocked when the dart missed both the board and its wood panel and lodged itself on the bathroom door, barely missing the head of an exiting patron. She smiled. “Good effort, friend! Thanks for playing!”

As he wrote her a check for the full $10,000, he stammered, “I just don’t understand what happened. I’m the regional darts champion, and a drink or two always improves my aim.”

She gave him a wink and replied, “I reckon you learned a valuable lesson today: Absinthe makes the dart go yonder.”