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Uninstalling Adobe AIR-based Applications from Mac OSX

Posted on October 2, 2007 
Filed Under How tos, Macheadism, Internets | 6 comments

I’ve been playing around with Adobe AIR based apps onOSX for almost 3 months now and I must say that I see nothing but tons of potential for the new runtime environment.

The cross-OS platform uses HTML, Flash and AJAX among others to make highly-functional Rich Internet Applications and deploy them as desktop clients.

Currently, my favorite AIR apps include Snitter, an AIR-based Twitter client for Mac OSX; Airpress, a Wordpress compatible blogging client; and of course, Pownce’s desktop client.

However, AIR being a relatively new runtime environment, applications tend to be buggy and I find myself installing and trying to uninstall apps a lot.

Usually, to make sure that I delete all files associated with the app I am trying to uninstall, I use either App Zapper or App Delete.

The process is pretty straightforward. I go to my applications folder and drag the program I wish to uninstall to App Delete or App Zapper and that’s that.

I’ve been trying out a lot of Adobe AIR-based apps in the last couple of months and until lately, I haven’t found a way to uninstall them as they do not appear in the applications folder.

What I found out was the AIR installer and apps are, by default, installed in your Home/Applications folder rather than your root Applications folder. So for a user named TedGrubb, AIR-based apps are installed in /TedGrubb/Applications rather than in /Applications.

Hat tip to Satisfaction’s Ted Grubb for the info.

Popularity: 7% [?]

Fairview suckage. Bisaya.

Posted on September 28, 2007 
Filed Under Failures, Daily | 10 comments

I’ve lived in the Fairview area for over 20 years now and I’ve always had this love-hate relationship with it. But I’ll tell you something right now: I’m fucking done. FAIRVIEW FUCKING SUCKS.

I spent a good time going over Apartment listings on Buy and Sell Plus this morning because, frankly, I cannot do this anymore. (Of course I’m not moving out, I mean if I move out of my parents’ place, who’d cook my food, launder my clothes and tell me everything’s going to be fine after I accidentally burn down a Sari-Sari Store? Looking made me feel better nonetheless.)

Here are a two reasons why Fairview sucks hairy balls:

1.) Stupid Fucking Bikes - I’m not talking about Ducatis either. I’m talking about those lame-ass, souped up Honda XRM’s with epilepsy lights and sound systems incessantly blaring Ja Rule, 50 cent or some shitty-ass bassy remixed song from the the late 90’s.

Every morning, one or two motorcycle gangs will descend on our street to a.) Eat breakfast at the eatery across my house and b.) Play annoying songs and rev their engines for a good five hours.
I fucking get it okay? You guys are cool and shit. You ride sweet bikes that couldn’t have cost you more than fifty thousand pesos. But guess what? I stopped riding bikes when I was twelve and accepted the fact that I have a penis the size of a wine cork with open arms. But if you guys want to hang out with a bunch of scrawny losers and chicks who look like they work at the shoes section of SM Fairview and rev your engines to prove that you are alpha males, then it’s cool.

I just want to tell you how I think that you guys are insecure about your sexuality and you probably have tiny penises. Also, I hope you all die.

2.) Stupid Fucking Bisayas. As if the stupid motorcycle gangs weren’t enough, I also have to live with the fact that about 90% of the homeowners on our street are fucking Bisayas. Now, I don’t have anything about Bisayas in general, I mean their women are hot; sure, they’re smelly, but they’re hot. And I love the dried, sugar-coated bananas they put in paper cones, but the Bisayas on my street are just annoyingly terrible.

They do nothing but angrily yap at each other and although I don’t understand Bisaya, I’m pretty sure their conversations go something like this:

Bisaya man: “I am hungry, where is that gross fish head stew we cooked and used to stink up the entire street last night? I think I’m going to reheat it and annoy the living piss out of our non-bisaya neighbors.”

Bisaya woman: “How the hell should I know? I’ve been sitting here on our doorstep, picking head lice off our daughter’s head the entire day.”

Bisaya man: “You are useless. But guess what? I still want to make like 400 babies with you so I can ascertain that we have enough Bisayas in the world to annoy the shit out of the next generation. Now, excuse me while I stink up the entire street again with my fish stew.”

Bisaya woman: “[not paying attention, picking head lice off daughter’s head, looking at their malnourished dog with a “you’re next” look in her eyes]”

So yes, I’m done. I can’t wait to pay thirty thousand pesos a month for a tiny condo unit along EDSA. I’m positive that I’ll have a grand time living there, until the good people over at the Bank of the Philippine Islands (who’d probably team up with the people from HSBC) show up at my doorstep one day with knives and baseball bats to “collect.”

What an awesome life. Now excuse me while I go out and do the only thing I know to alleviate my frustrations: And that is to drink myself to a point where I could no longer recognize basic shapes and colors.

Have a great weekend everyone!

Popularity: 29% [?]

The Suckiest Blog Post In The World

Posted on September 25, 2007 
Filed Under Faggotry, Anatomy of a Drunk Man, Failures, Daily | 7 comments

Because I’m lazy and today, easily, is the busiest work day I’ve had the whole year (Read: Offline NBA Fantasy Draft! Huzzah!); I have nothing to offer you guys but a portmanteau post made up of one part depression and one part lust.

Depression

Most of the time, I’m really not sure of anything. I am sure of one thing though: I will have a fucking emotional breakdown in about two days’ time. This is inevitable and I’m pretty much resigned to my fate. I don’t know if I told you guys already, but my psychiatrist decided to cut my anti-depressant and Xanax scripts by half.

Now, I find myself struggling with intense bouts of depression and horribly vivid dreams-dreams which are either extremely terrifying or extremely erotic (these I don’t mind at all). All of these might be just a case of Seasonal Affective Disorder something which isn’t new to me, but I decided to call my shrink anyway just to be sure(and maybe coerce her into writing me new Xanax scripts or something).

But because, like God, my shrink hates me, instead of prescribing more pills, she just went ahead and told me to “Go talk to somebody about it” since she says it just might be work-related stress.

Are you fucking kidding me? What’s so stressful about my work? The two hours I spend on managing my fantasy NBA team? The three hours I spend making personal phone calls to my friends? Or maybe it’s the four hours I spend listening to music everyday? God, give anyone a diploma and a lab coat and they act like they know everything.

I still think it’s Seasonal Affective Disorder. I mean, after all, every Christmas eve, I usually sob uncontrollably, pass out, wake up and realize that I wet my pants, then my slutbag cousin Ella would say something like “That was funny last year, now it’s just disgusting.” and I tell her “Well at least I don’t suck Bisaya cocks for weed money” and then she snaps back with something like “Yeah because you’re a fag, and you do it for free! (Because apparently, in my family, the fact that you never brought home a girl for dinner and the fact that you can speak straight English makes you gay)” Then my mom walks in on us having a fistfight and she cries because we ruined Christmas for her and the kitchen smells like urine.

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Popularity: 41% [?]

So You’re De-Evolving

Posted on September 24, 2007 
Filed Under The Man Blog | 9 comments

Do you find that your facial hair is starting to spread past your face? Are your knuckles a few inches closer to the ground than normal? Do you feel like you’re spending more and more time climbing trees and throwing feces at your friends?

Well these are the classic signs of what is known as De-Evolving. Don’t be afraid, a lot of people have gone through this phenomenon, and they are now settling fine in their respective zoos.

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Popularity: 39% [?]

Knocked up, drinking, and crying

Posted on September 21, 2007 
Filed Under Failures, Daily | 6 comments

Wednesday, I woke up with a violent hangover no thanks to several bottles of warm light beer I was double fisting the night before with a couple of friends. It doesn’t help that I am not getting as much sleep as I’d want to have these past few weeks either. I don’t know what’s up with that, but apparently, after my psychiatrist cut off my Xanax prescription, I have been unwillingly shoved into a frustrating battle with mild insomnia. In these bouts, I usually crash as soon as I get home from work, wake up at around 12am for some Conan O’ Brien, fall back asleep at around 5am and wake up for work at around 8 or 9am.

Wednesday was different in the sense that I was out of bed by 6am, in the shower trying to fight a killer headache and a major hangover.

Maybe it’s because I knew I had to pull it together because come Saturday, I will be celebrating my 3rd month together with the girlfriend and I just want to make the moment as special as possible and not screw it up and use my hangover as an excuse (like I’m inclined to do whenever I’m cornered and confronted about why I couldn’t get an erection).

But guess what, because I have a small drinking problem and because I have a total of seven real friends whom I try hard to keep and hence can’t say no to them when they ask me out to drink, I ended up drinking again on Wednesday night, headache, hangover and all.

All told, I stayed in the bar for six hours with my friends Rey, Romark, Rico and Sasha. It was wonderful, the beer, the meat-basically just a couple of guys, sitting around, getting drunk and talking about how much our jobs and lives in general suck.

I got home drunk of course, but surprisingly, I was feeling pretty good despite getting by with only four hours of sleep the night before and with my killer hangover.

I honestly didn’t want anything more than to crash and just sleep that night, but because my stupid insomnia reared its ugly head again, I decided to watch this movie my friend downloaded for me: Knocked up with Seth Rogen and Katherine Heigl.

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Popularity: 64% [?]

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