Living on Facebook is never dull

Those of you who follow me on Facebook might already know that I had an interesting weekend. I had an unexpected house-guest who basically lives his life on Facebook. While he was here, I planned a little bonfire with a few friends, and after he posted about it, and then again, and then again, it turned into an event.

Even with all that:

1000 words credit for research into the Irish Immram tales, a type of folkloric tale about a sea voyage. This is the template fr the sequel to Beanstalk and Beyond : Taliesin’s Last Apprentice.

1000 word credit for editing and compiling the first section of that book, now that I have a mostly complete draft.

1500 words on Echoes, the sequel to One of 64.

500 words for attending a writer’s group.

850 words for a draft of the first half of the next chapter of Taliesin’s Last apprentice.

850 words for transcribing it.

For Jack, I write all the first drafts by hand. That won’t work for a writer’s group, so I have to then edit and transcribe them into the word processor with a relatively quick turn-around. So double duty.

5700 words. That would call for whisky except I already started on beer.

Oh and fuck Sprint. Fuck them right in their squishy fuckholes. I mean, I didn’t care for Verizon’s customer service either when I had them a few years ago, but I have had an epiphany – none of these companies have good customer service. Verizon, though, at least has good coverage. Sprint has dead spots in city limits.  Also an army of Pakistani Sprintbots who are all very sorry they cannot actually help me.

OK, fuck you too.

I almost titled this post : “WordPress does not believe fuckhole is a word” but that title would pop up on Facebook and the like, and that might be a step too low. Besides, WordPress also flags WordPress as misspelled.

Out of curiosity (and poor judgement) I clicked on a link to the Barefoot Writer, where the breathless form letter (they all read like some overcaffienated motivational speaker) told me how much money I could make from writing freelance ad copy. About $50 gets me access to their database of clients. Maybe.

Fifty bucks gets you a daily hard-sell e-mail to spend a couple hundred dollars on their marketing course. Which, no doubt gives you the opportunity to spend a thousand dollars on their in-person seminar somewhere and – just stop.

If your copy-writing biz is so damn lucrative, why aren’t you doing that instead of bothering me? (I’d ask them, but all these e-mails are no-reply.  the inbedded links go right to the credit card screen).

But the worst, I think, is answering one of these ads fills every site you visit with similar ads. I’m OK guys. I have enough to write. Sorry I touched your tar baby.

Since I don’t want to leave on that note, Zefrank would like to tell you about our friends the cuttlefish:

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Links of tangental relevance to my current life

Do you not get enough drama from your “friends” on Facebook?

Try following the antics of fictional friends on Fatebook.

Need a reason to stay up all night and fret about the future of humanity?

Robots with guns – soon!

Remember way back on my other blog, when I explained The Miserable Truth About Plastic Bottles?  No less than Slate.com agrees with me.

Forty years later: random facts about Apollo 11.

Have you just spent years writing the best RPG ever? Too bad.

The E-bbok debate nicely summarized in five points.

And now, because its been a while, further news on the antics of the octopi:

Spain’s Islands of the Gods. “But we’re content. We have our peace and everything we need: meat, octopus, goats, chicken and vegetables,” says Victoria, as she herds her goats into a stall.

And the journal Afarensis has compiled a survey of recent octopi literature including octopus ancestry, octopus porn, and a debate over whether octopi is actually a word in English.

Since “gianormous” is now in standard usage, I’m thinking yes.

Now You Know