The science of change is not possible to study in a Universe in which birthdays and the orbit of a particular planet is a coincidence that researchers only recall on their own birthday. I ask people to put the word astrology aside as they contemplate why we have two words for the study of the skies.
Using a wheel to drive a piston is something which is as old as the mills. Relying on spelling and grammar checkers can make our work a lot more difficult: the writer doesn't worry too much about their accuracy, the proofreader isn't sure if the writer intended what they wrote, and the reader needs to be alerted to the fact that a spelling error has not just occurred.
But all is grist to our mill; the problem referred to is just coincidental with Microcomputer Madness.
In this country cultural differences work in harmony: the kind of harmony one finds in a motorbike that's being revved to shit with the clutch in.
Remembering people who treated me like a gentleman, but also thought I aught to be behaving like an overgrown boy, because they weren't going to become like me no matter what history has to tell us, I came to start all my sentences with a fuck just in case someone thought they were talking to a gentleman.
But if I go on any more I'll start mentioning names which everyone knows, and then I'll start talking to myself about names which not everyone knows, which kind of activity is all very well for a web-logger who's trying to ignore his wife.
That's not me; at least, not today.