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Andrew Dennis
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I seem to recall Google+ getting into some schtick over a real-names-only policy back when. Whence, then, the three obviously-fake spam profiles I've had add me in the last week?

'What's Hot' presents me with Britney Spears, of all things, right there in my feed. 'What's Hot' got turned entirely off. If I wanted to be served up the same generic toss as everyone else was snorting up, I'd not've stopped watching telly. Giving me content just because it's popular is exactly equivalent to telling me to eat shit and die because 2.5^15 flies a year do it too.

The more I see of iOs 5, the gladder I am I stopped using Apple products all those years ago.

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As Ian says, I think we're pretty much done here. Until someone gets these guys a big budget and a bangin' script.
Ninjas and lightsabers. This is the greatest thing on the internet. That's it. You can go home now. There's nothing left to see. Perfection has been achieved.

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Liking Xfce so far.

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Because it's worth knowing that a force of citizens will generally manage something that a lot of aristocrats living off the slavery of others won't. Victory.

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This makes me happy. Holodisplays now in hand. DARPA has a project in hand for flying cars. If someone can get weaving on rayguns and lightsabres, maybe we can see the future we were promised sometime soon?

Got to love a game whose history includes a match where nine players died on the pitch or of injuries sustained in the game. Played the so-called 'civil' version in the scouts (boxing is disallowed and you're not penalised for giving up the ball without a fight, and the goals are moved further than 25 yards apart so you can at least pretend there's a running and/or passing game) and fond, fond memories came back. I thought campball was something they made up to let teenaged boys blow off steam, turns out it has history and rules foir the classic game, although it has to be said they do sound like they were written by guys who got kicked in the head a lot.

Carpet beating injury sustained. What is this, the bloody 19th century?
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