Twitter Weekly Updates for 2009-09-27

  • On the last day of summer, my true love gave to me… #
  • Microsoft upgrades: an exercise in bizarre futility followed by grudging acceptance. Think of it as a stress test, and I survived! #
  • You're gonna run into jerkoffs. But it's not the size of the asshole you worry about, it's how much shit comes out of it. via @shitmydadsays #
  • "Kittens don't like precalculus; they prefer the aftermath." – Zak (via @lavermeer) #
  • Book distribution in the UK by Peter Kilborn. Our largest English book market outside the US #
  • Book publishers really need to smarten up and drop the word 'book' #
  • AB Book Publishers Assoc PD in Banff. Some thought provoking info on the future of content delivery http://yfrog.com/0eni5j #
  • RT Weeping tile is being installed. Gravel is conveyed around the foundation. http://yfrog.com/1nlgatj (via @EnjoyCentre) #

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Last Day before home

Conference is 50/50 so far. I loved the talk by the SFU boys but felt the audience was more resistant then engaged. Gotta move forward and transfer the knowledgebase.

Dinner was fine and I cornered the associate professor. Leslie, finish your phd and you’ve got a job…

C and I hung and didn’t drink too much. Barely 1 bottle for the whole trip. I like hanging, with or without wine. Sleep is really problematic though. Pattern seems to be deep sleep followed by hours of restlessness. Oh well it’s age I guess.

Home tonight and a busy week likely starts tomorrow.

Man i hate being alone

30 minutes and I’m already slightly stir crazy. I could never of been one of those people who travels alone. I just can’t relax enough. I checked out my room, read all the literature, visited the dining room, found the quickest way to the bar, scoped out the path from Sally Borden to Lloyd Hall, checked out the front pathways and tried reading the bulletin board and now sitting outside.

All in 30 minutes. Only 45 more to go.

Sigh.

Twitter Weekly Updates for 2009-09-20

  • Freelance CIOs. Who knew… But it'll work for me. #
  • Facebook Lite premiers. Looks like its got potential. http://lite.facebook.com/ #
  • Turns out, defering decisions until someone smarter comes along kinda makes you one of the smarter… Who knew… #
  • My first teddy bear casting call. Hopefully use of the casting couch won't get out of hand! http://www.enjoygardening.com/?p=1639 #
  • She brings out the 'fuck' in people; I bring out the fuckin' people. #

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Twitter Weekly Updates for 2009-09-13

  • At what point do you move forward instead of dodging oncoming traffic. Life's most distressing question. #
  • People should know their tools. Not know about them (although that helps too), but know them. Otherwise they aren't really much of a tool. #
  • Crown & Anchor on the corner of 153 & 113 street still has potato skins @EarlJWoods #
  • Expectations are good. Reality is stronger. Always hope for good and expect reality. #
  • A book is a container type that won't be recreated electonically by a single e-container. We need to develop more containers. #
  • Pouring the floor for the main greenhouse using the biggest concrete pump in the city http://twitpic.com/hciv4 #
  • If you join a sentence to another sentence with "however", put a semi-colon before or after it. Commas don't connect clauses! via @lavermeer #
  • Bad Haikus…
    Through my ongoing journey
    the vortex evolves
    its center becomes its whole #
  • What's with the new size format for paperbacks? Don't they know they won't fit my shelves? #

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Once Upon a Bad Vaudeville Parody

Once upon a time there was an owl named Who. This caused quite a lot of confusion as Who constantly heard voices calling her in the night. As you can imagine this wasn’t conducive to getting anything done. Papers would pile up (as Who was very wise and learned) and household chores would remain undone. This led to skimping on daytime sleeping and the inevitable, subsequent daytime-catchup attempts that failed to produce much in the way of results.

One day Who addressed her problem with What, a friendly vole with a dirty mind (obviously as a result of his nocturnal digging habits and not anything his mother was responsible for!). What’s suggestion was to pay closer attention and perhaps try harder. If she did this, maybe she would be able to solve the mystery and remove the worry of just who was spying on Who (or is that whom?).

So that very evening Who sat in her nest, which by the way was on the ground, as she was a burrowing owl, and much resembled a rabbit hole, and alertly stared out into the night. Just around 2 hours after sunset, she heard a faint “who” come from the forest to her left. Who scrambled out of her nest and screeched “What!” and then listened… there was no response. A few minutes later she heard again “who…” and she yelled “WHAT!” and again there was nothing but silence. Now Who was nobody’s fool and she knew she couldn’t very well just sit there all night waiting. So she carefully and silently made her way towards the forest, listening very hard. Just as she approached the first of the trees she heard, a little bit stronger, “Who… Who…”

Determined to put an end to this once and for all, she sucked in a huge gulp of air and blasted out “WHAT!!!!!!”. Well, several things happened all at once. The first thing that happened was a very dirty vole exploded out of the earth right under where she was sitting. It was very hard to tell in the confusion who was more startled as What yelled “what? What? WHAT?” spitting out tail feathers and fearfully attempting to glance in every direction at once. At the same time Who was screeching and hooting “WHAT? What? what…” with diminishing volume as she attempted to catch her breath again. As if this wasn’t enough, a large grey owl fell from the branches above, obviously very disconcerted and blurting out “What? Who! Who? What!” It only got worse when this new owl landed unceremoniously on top of poor What just as he finally escaped from Who.

So there they all sat, out of breath and quite confused until What crawled out from under yet another owl bottom and began sputtering “Why…”

“What?” replied the strange owl.

“Who …” began What.

“What?” replied Who.

“I said why…” began What again.

“What?” replied the strange owl, who, if you haven’t guessed by this time (like What apparently hadn’t), was named Why.

“Now wait just a minute!” yelled When (a brown bat from a neighbouring wood), “You can’t do this sketch without clearing permissions with United Artists who are the current rights holder!” To which the current trio unanimously replied “PUBLIC DOMAIN!” because, as we all know, it has been over 50 years since the death of Abbot and Costello. At this, When was just a bit miffed, and quickly moved on to another storyline where she felt her talents would be more appreciated.

Meanwhile Who, What and Why had settled into a comfortable little isosceles triangle to contemplate the preceding events. “So why…” began Who.

She was immediately cut off by What, who couldn’t take an more of it. “It doesn’t matter!” he insisted. “Obviously Why had a good reason, who knows what it was…”

“I do not!” retorted Who, “Why would you say…”

“I would not!” exclaimed Why sharply, “I never would!”

“Wait, wait, wait,” tried What one more time. “Let’s just stop this nonsense now. When are we…”

“I’m not answering!” When yelled from the distance.

“O for gawd’s sake” sighed What.

Meanwhile Why and Who were eyeing each other up and starting to do that weird dance that owls do when their grammar gets challenged. In one last attempt to bring piece to the woods and fields, What said “Has anyone ever tried to sentence diagram Abbot and Costello?”

Well as we all can guess, this pretty much put an end to the discussion and the two owls began to parse. To this day, every night, a few hours after sunset, if you listen very hard, you can hear quiet murmurings across the land as Who and Why, watched fondly and tolerantly by What, whisper “hoo, what, why, I don’t know is on third…”, trying in vain to successful diagram what was truly the ultimate in nonsense.

Or was it?

On occasion of encountering a recalcitrant grump

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