Akismet rocks!

Goodbye, spam. See you in the trash, suckers.

I wish I would have enabled Akismet sooner, ’cause man, is it killing the blog spam I’ve been getting. And so far, it’s worked flawlessly. I assume that at some point, either some spam will slip through, or it’ll catch something that it shouldn’t but for now, I’m pretty impressed.

For any of you that have a blog, check it out. It’s free, it was painless to setup, and it’s been easy to use. Life is good, and now I promise to stop being a shill for Akismet. Onward…

I *heart* spam

I feel the love every day; all the nice people out there offering me free stuff and concerned about my love life. Every morning, I get to sort through all the tempting offers that have accumulated in my in box like late-night snowfall.

But now, I’ve decided to become a hermit, a recluse, a scrooge. Enlarge my penis? Ba-humbug! Be friends with a Nigerian widower? That’s for the ghost of Marley, not me.

No, now my faith rests in Akismet. That little bit of golden code will tell me what’s good for me and what’s not. So, at the risk of mixing my metaphors like cheap booze, be good, for goodness’ sake.

And this is what he said…

This is a direct quote of my Network Administrator at work from not more than three minutes ago:

“Yeah, I sent ‘em one of those little, online e-mail things…”

Man, do I *love* my job!

So… tired…

I’ve been staying up late and getting up early to work on a couple side projects I’ve had going. The last night I flew my flight sim for an hour-and-a-half, then again for a couple hours this morning. And then it all caught up to me ’bout 10:30 this morning. OMFG. I even drained a can of Monster, and all it did for me was make me edgy and jittery.

It’s officially 18:15, and I’m – stick a fork in me – I’m done. Fortunately (or not, depending on how you do the math), so is The Boy. So we’re going to bed. Right now.

1,670 and counting

That’s how many returns I got this morning for my quarterly Google vanity search. Which makes me wonder: Where exactly did my high school class reunion committee look for people’s contact info; under a rock in the back forty?

Now I realize that I haven’t really gone out of my way to broadcast my specific physical location, but I’ve been a promiscuous little web slut when it comes to getting my digital contact information out there.

*sigh* I guess maybe not everyone sleeps with a keyboard yet.

Phreak 2.0

I’m into shiny things. If they have buttons, so much the better. If they enable “free” cross-continental voice and video communication, then *booya!*

So check it (to the tune of “Dry Bones” aka “the knee-bone’s connected to the thigh-bone…”):

• My toll-free number’s connected to my Skype account
• My Skype account’s connected to my skype subscription
• My subscription’s connected to my voicmail
• My voicemail’s connected to my cell phone
• My cell phone’s connected to my ear

So yeah, that tune really doesn’t do justice to the sweetness of my system. I bought a toll-free number for a web development business I’m starting. I have the number roll over to my “Skype-in” number, which then rings my Skype account. If I’m going to be away from my computer (yeah, right!), then I can set Skype to forward the call to my cell phone, or just send it to voice mail. And then I can return the call anywhere in North America for “free” ($30 annually lets me call out up to 10,000 minutes/month). All this for about $80 a year.

If this sort of thing gets you salivating, get hold of me, and I can give you all the gory details.

For what it’s worth

Most of you have probably seen my mass mailing re: video of my recent gig. For those of you who are saying, and I quote, “Huh?” click on “Music” in the header of this site, then click on the one link on the page. Then you’ll see video of my gig from Friday.

It’s nothing spectacular; just a camera set on a table in the bar, but I thought it’d be fun to try the whole video-capture-post-to-youtube-embed-in-my-blog-let-you-ignore-it cycle. And just for the record, I only have video from the first set up currently. It’s my intention to get video from the second and third sets up later today or maybe tomorrow. While putting this stuff online isn’t hard by any stretch of the imagination, it *is* ridiculously time-consuming, so please bear with me.

An astute technical analysis

Last night, The Boy and I watched “Star Wars.” The real one; none of this “Episode One” garbage. At the end of the movie, after they “blow this joint and go home,” and the Death Star was disintegrating in a puff of fireworks, The Boy looked at me and said, “Daddy, the space station is *very* broken.”