Category: Weblogging

Recovered from the Wayback Machine.

For those of you who take your weblogging seriously, you might want to take a closer look at Allan Moult’s weblog. Underneath the name of the weblog is an actual genuine ISSN number — the same type of number used for all other periodicals including magazines such as the New Yorker, Wired, and Time.

Allan found the how-tos on getting an ISSN for your weblog from Fawny.org.

An ISSN lists your weblog within an international database of publications, accessible by request from your local librarian. It also puts your weblog right smack into the middle with all the big boys. Just think: The National Geographic. Time. New Yorker. Burningbird.

In most cases, filing is free.

Recovered from the Wayback Machine.

I am so glad I took one more wander around cyberspace before going to bed.

Here’s an Australian IT ezine article featuring googlewhacking and our own celebrated Jonathon Delacour.

Congrats, Mr. Delacour. We’ll try to remember to treat you with more respect hence forth. No more messages from Pudding, that sort of thing.

11:18pm

Over 12 hours later, and I finally filled in the last form, signed the last W2, toted the last barge, lifted the last bale. I’m one tired puppy. The 940 was almost the breaking point, but I held it together. Rah.

The good news is I only made one small mistake in withholding last year, and it was in December, so no fines. The bad news is that I missed one quarter filing. In fact there’s a whole story on this I could bore you with, but not tonight — too tired (you’re saved).

Next up: 1120 income tax in March. Ugh. However, I’m done with this monumental balance and check, and in time to get it into mail tomorrow and save myself some nasty fines. Dancing in the moonlight.

Quick note — I plan on updating the Blogicon this weekend including new entries, of which one is named after a certain someone you all hold dear. Don’t you? Thanks for being patient if your item hasn’t shown yet.

Googlewhacking is sure going insane isn’t it. We’re all such crazy people.

Green eyes signing off for the night.

10:34pm

One more tax form — took a break to get the mail and guess what came today: the fruitcake that my mother sent me at the beginning of December.

This deserves a 2001 sound byte!

9:07pm

There’s a light at the end of the tunnel with my tax and year end filings. I’m also finding some amazing revelations….

to be continued…

For now, I’m taking a quick break for a sup and a quick blogpeek (blogging when you shouldn’t be). I found two more Google Instant Messages:

 

burningbird Stav says hi

 

 

shelley powers finish the rdf book

 

Well, we know who the first one is — guesses as to the second?

I think I have a few minutes….WTF!?! What’s this Do a Shelley I’m seeing!.

‘EXCUSE ME! I have to go back to work now. I can’t play anymore. I have to be good.

7:02pm

I find that Rogi is a level headed, very cool person. He made an excellent point in a comment attached to my last posting. As a result, after thinking about it, I decided not to waste my blogspace on the content. And pulled it. Yes, I did a Dave. Flushed it down the blogging toilet.

Thanks Rogi — must be that Azores air that makes you smart!

(P.S. I still want to see some of your photos!)

10:17am

One more quick note before crawling off to bed. I just saw evidence of Google Instant Messages within the Referrer Thingy at three places, and I’ve seen links elsewhere.

Ladies and Gentlemen, we’re in on the birth of a new meme. May I introduce to you to Googlewhacking’s baby brother:

The

Google Instant Message.

Take a bow Stav and Amphiskios — you’re meme parents! <edit />

2:01am

Recovered from the Wayback Machine.

When working on a book, normally I can produce the chapters fairly consistently. However, with the RDF book, I’m having a bad case of writer’s block with one of the chapters. I can’t seem to sit down, sit still, and finish it. Tomorrow (well, today), no online time, no blogging, no googlewhacking, no cross-blogging, no Google Instant Messaging — finish the chapter. Do or Die. And if I don’t send out my W3s and W2s and other tax forms by end of day tomorrow, the revenue people will come and cart me away — for real.

I think one of my difficulties with the chapter is that I need a break from the city. I love this city, it’s so beautiful. And I love city life, though if I were rich, I would live half of my time in San Francisco or Boston or New York, and the other half in Vermont or Cannon Beach, Oregon. (So when my books publish this year, you’ll all have to buy at least two…of each. Call it the “Run the Bird out of town” fund.)

Still, regardless of how much I love San Fran – I – Need – A – Break – From – This – City! You can put that into a Google Instant Message and send it!

On the Australian home front: Jonathon — taking time off from swimming in the warm summer sun over the land of Oz — wonders if the next time I posted, it would be from Camp X-Ray in Cuba. I don’t know, there is a  resemblance. But the resemblance is only skin deep—I can walk away, anytime. Get in new car, head up the highway.

A tiny creature’s breath caused a tiny breeze that mixed with a drop of rain that bonded with other drops of rain that created a flood that re-sculpted a continent in a long ago time, eventually shaping the destiny of two peoples. And now members of one group of people sit behind razor wire and fencing in Cuba, held captive by the vanquisher of a war with no winners; and members from the other people, including yours truly, sit behind razor wire and fencing in San Francisco, held captive by fear of the vanquished.

‘Nuff! Any more of this “chaos” stuff, and I’ll lose my honorary membership in both the Meryl and the Australian Blogger web rings!

Recovered from the Wayback Machine.

Garth has taken Stav’s Google Instant Message to new heights — luckily the victim has a sense of humor.

I received a gentle message from a secret friend: burning bird hi shelley! is this flowbait

I think this was the only GIM — I don’t think “free unlinking porn”, “treacle tart”, and “tim tams uk” were secret messages.

Remember: GIM is for fun — use good judgement in knowing what to send to whom.

If we aren’t having fun, why bother?