Keeping Windows In Position Across Displays On Mac
For a while now I’ve had the problem of rearranging my application windows whenever I connected or disconnected my MacBook to a display. I first had it with my 15” MacBook Pro to a 24” Cinema Display back in 2010 and now have run into the same problem after getting a 13” MacBook Air and the 27” Cinema Display.
For a while I just used window snapping or arranging tools which allowed me to use keyboard shortcuts or drag-n-drop to arrange the windows by size and position. This was fine but still meant I had to do it every time I connected or disconnected, since I do this twice a day minimum it started to get frustrating.
I’ve now found what seems to be a pretty full proof solution to this, although slightly pricey for my taste. Stay is a menubar application which allows you to record the positioning of windows per display size. That means it detects the display resolution you’re using and arranges the windows how you saved previously. The price of $14.99 is steep but worth it if you connect and disconnect a lot I suppose.
I have experienced an issue with Google Chrome automatically being restored to the correct size and position. So far this is the only application I’ve found which doesn’t, but I simply use Window Magnet. Again it’s a tad pricey at $4.99 but worth it for originally arranging your windows into various sizes and positions.
Jesse Morris
I’ll be damned! It turns out there was a street performer in San Francisco who went by the name of Jesse Morris. I’m someone who respects the street performer, if I hear a tune I like I will most definitely drop in a dollar or two. Few have ever made me stand and watch however it seems as though Jesse Morris would have.
Unfortunately though I’ll never get the chance to watch him play his guitar. It’s been reported he passed away on his birthday, no explanation for the cause of death but he apparently had been struggling with depression. It’s sure sad to hear this after watching just one of his videos.
He was a true Johnny Cash sound-a-like. When I first played this video I was stunned, I was positive it was either a lip dub done with some video editor or he was simply using a recording of Johnny’s voice. Closer inspection shows that it truly is him singing and there are more videos of him doing covers of songs in the style of Johnny’s voice.
I’m sadden that I didn’t find out about this man until today and in such a bad way. If I had known I would of certainly paid the guy a visit and requested my JC favorite A Boy Named Sue.
Telling Scum They’re Scum
I had a rather odd situation when I was visiting family and friends at the end of July. Every year my hometown, Dufftown, throws the Dufftown Highland Games which usually culminates with various pipe bands playing in the centre of the town. I was there as usual watching my two cousins who are part of the band, drum past.
I had to search through the crowd to find my parents who were speaking to a couple of people I had never met before. Turns out one of them was my step-dad’s old flat mate just a guy everyone knew about town and the rather obnoxious loud-mouth woman was his girlfriend, fiancee or wife (I didn’t give a shit enough to care about their relationship).
It took me a matter of seconds to realize the woman in question was what I would describe as ‘low-life Barbie’. The Barbie doll that Matel would never dare make, it isn’t scummy enough to make one dolled up like this cow.
She was overly orange with fake tan (something Scottish women seem to have down to a fine art), had what I can only describe as obvious fake Chanel sunglasses and spoke constantly about wanting to move out of her 4 bedroom house because it was just too big - ‘who needs the room?’ she would state. Best of all, she had one of those chalkboard Glaswegian accents which the majority of people outside of Glasgow hate with a passion.
Right, so that’s her. She’s standing with my parents and now me, describing her overly big 4 bedroom house and stating how much my mum must meet her daughter Alisha (apparently spelt with a lovely dollop of spit after her name). At one point my mum mentions the name Alisha or something similar and this makes her go ultra high-pitched with the question ‘who’s called Alisha?!?!?’ as if it’s a miracle to find another Alisha.
For a split second my mum and me make it away from her only to find she’s waddled over to join us at our new spot. A few seconds pass when suddenly she brings out a silver/chrome bullet looking thing. It had a grid-like opening at one end with a little twist dial on the side. It was no bigger than the nasal inhalers you get to unblock your nose. My mind didn’t actually click what it was until she proclaimed ‘fuck, it’s empty’ or something along those typically Glaswegian vocabulary filled sentences.
It was a cocaine inhaler, a fucking cocaine inhaler. This is a big deal for me to see this, I’m very unconnected to the world of drugs. I don’t know which nicknames match which drug. Weed, pot, speed, crack, they all pretty mean ‘some drug’ to me. That wasn’t the problem here though, the big problem was it was roughly 5/6pm during the pipe band parade where families were watching the pipe band go by. What kind of useless piece of shit does that? What kind of low-life wanker is that stupid?
I questioned her: What’s that?
She responded snarkily with: You’re too young to know. (kinda backs up my point about her being scum to do it around young children)
To which I responded: So you’re scum then?
Her: Huh?
Me: You’re scum then?
Her: *points at toe* No it’s for my…
Me: *turns and walks away*
I wasn’t going to stand around and listen to some bullshit about how it was for medical reasons. Not only that but she wasn’t even being serious about the medical reasons, she was saying it purely for humour purposes as she knew fine well what she was doing.
My mum and step-dad were then left with her frantically apologizing to them both saying she was really sorry for upsetting me. She even reverted to the excuse of being a busy mum and that this was her only break in months, which obviously means ‘LETS DO FUCKING COKE!!!!’ in her head.
My point is, don’t put up with people ruining their lives and being irresponsible around others. Tell them they’re dick heads, scumbags, tossers and whatever else comes to mind at the time. Tell them just how much you think they deserve to be in the back of a cop car. Then turn and walk away, such an up front statement followed by an even more obvious statement of removal of attachment really offends these people and they have no response. Obviously, make sure you haven’t handed them your business card before you do so, that may result in a few odd phone calls or letters in the mail.
WARNING: May not work in the USA where guns are rampant…
Blackening, an Odd Tradition
By now most of you will know I’m Scottish, if you didn’t already know then you know now. As a Scot I’m accustomed to our rather strange but fun-loving traditions. I’ll tell you about one which seems to have gone unnoticed in the wider world and maybe for good reason; Blackening.
Don’t worry, it’s not a racial tradition as much as it sounds like it (for once). Blackening is probably one of the strangest traditions on the book where no one gets mutilated, drunk as a skunk or made to dance in a circle holding hands. It’s also a pretty regionalised tradition, mostly happening around Aberdeenshire and the surrounding area.
It all starts when two people decide to get married. Once they have set the date then it’s up to the family and friends of the couple (but mostly aimed at the bride) to organise the Blackening. Normally it’s set for a couple of days or weeks before the wedding, similar in style to Hen Nights (Bachelorette Parties) and Stag Dos (Bachelor Parties).
The bride or groom are pounced on by surprise. They are then covered with everything possible; eggs, feathers, porridge, soup, syrups and even soot (when the friends and family are extra mean).
They are then loaded onto the back of a open-pickup or truck where the family and friends will join them. The driver will then drive the vehicle around the town in a form of ‘parade’ showing the town goers the soon to be married person or couple. The aim these days is to pretty much embarrass the poor souls. If that wasn’t enough, the family and friends will usually have utensils in the form of wooden planks/sticks and bricks which they use to hit the side of the truck to make as much noise as possible. Drawing even more attention to them as they go by. You might of guessed that most trucks they use are from building sites, the banging of bricks doesn’t do much damage.
To add a little more insult to injury they will then parade them in many different local pubs where the regulars will usually buy them a couple of drinks as a sign of congratulations. Before they are whisked off to another pub for some more humiliation. This part really seems to be about just getting free drinks or as many drinks in as possible, so I suppose this is another alcohol based Scottish tradition…
Most people take days to wash out all of the gunk and junk, the smell will stick to them for a while too. It’s all in good fun and about celebrating two people together!
Ah, Scotland…
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