30 September 2007
Contest to win $39 worth of memory card!
Filed in: Ed's blog spot
xFruits RSS feed contest
Thanks.
Check out the current Pisstakers mega feed.
Write 50 words about an Ed article that curls your toes, and publish it on your blog.
Send me the URL.
If you take part you will get a link back from my PR5 homepage.
Ed will award the memory card to the most amusing or engaging post.
Deadline: October 14th 2007
Write 50 words about an Ed article that curls your toes, and publish it on your blog.
Send me the URL.
If you take part you will get a link back from my PR5 homepage.
Ed will award the memory card to the most amusing or engaging post.
Deadline: October 14th 2007
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| "Your name" is a Kiva lender | "Your site's screenshot" SmartLink Widget | Funny HQ humor store |
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. Pleasing technorati
Filed in: Ed's blog spot
I regularly check how Technorati is treating The Pisstakers. It used to be a fun experience, but these days, the visit is more like a needle in my eye.
The deal is, that every day, a 6-month old link will drop off your technorati account and to maintain the rating, a new link has to step in. Since I stalled at 41000th in the world! Technorati has become a reminder that any blog will fade away and die unless you keep blogging and reaching out to new folks.
Peering into Technorati last night, I saw a new link back. Yeehah, I must be going up in the world. Oh! On closer inspection, I must have lost another link off the other end. Back on earth I am still ranking at 41000!
Technorati recognises bloggers who link out. I haven't stopped blogging, and I continue linking. Blog-and-link should be a good enough strategy to generate back-links and please Technorati. There is more to it than that, however. You have to be totally into Technorati, and you have to believe in their ways, brothers and sisters, else it won't work for you.
I broke a promise to myself and joined a meme thing a couple of weeks ago. In all honesty, I did enjoy showing my desktop off, and I felt like I was contributing something worthwhile to the internet beyond posting a long list of links to meme doers. I imagined that by joining the link train game I would see hundreds of back-links appear. That is what they tell you. The ratings of many meme, linktrain fans seem to back the theory up too. Not with me. Still 41000!
I can only think that my effort to please Technorati fell on stony ground because I am not a real fan! I didn't truly deeply madly believe.
Do you believe in Technorati?
I say I am doomed at Technorati, but maybe all is not lost. First, I ended up writing this post and adding a morsel of vaguely engaging 20-second material to the Stumble-o-sphere.
And second, if technorati works, hopefully Kate will see this link on her account and can read about her theme glitch from there. (From technorati I saw that Kate had linked to me and, playing by the internet rules, as I see them, I decided to comment on her blog site, thanking her for mentioning my disappearing hyphen post. No such luck.
No matter where I went on her sidebar, my cursor made her site disappear, piece by piece! I couldn't comment to say thanks, and neither could I click on the contact button to tell her that her theme doesn't work in Safari!
So, fingers crossed, maybe this time it will be Technorati to someone's rescue.
I updated this article following Untwisted Vortex' killer Technorati-related post, and I will add a follow-up to it too. (Don't tell anyone, because I am supposed to be a bit of an emotional stone, but his words brought a momentary lump to my throat - only for a very brief moment, you understand. Like for 0.03 seconds, the time it takes for Technorati to find my stalling account details.)
The deal is, that every day, a 6-month old link will drop off your technorati account and to maintain the rating, a new link has to step in. Since I stalled at 41000th in the world! Technorati has become a reminder that any blog will fade away and die unless you keep blogging and reaching out to new folks.
Peering into Technorati last night, I saw a new link back. Yeehah, I must be going up in the world. Oh! On closer inspection, I must have lost another link off the other end. Back on earth I am still ranking at 41000!
Improving Technorati rank, aka Mission Impossible
Technorati recognises bloggers who link out. I haven't stopped blogging, and I continue linking. Blog-and-link should be a good enough strategy to generate back-links and please Technorati. There is more to it than that, however. You have to be totally into Technorati, and you have to believe in their ways, brothers and sisters, else it won't work for you.
I broke a promise to myself and joined a meme thing a couple of weeks ago. In all honesty, I did enjoy showing my desktop off, and I felt like I was contributing something worthwhile to the internet beyond posting a long list of links to meme doers. I imagined that by joining the link train game I would see hundreds of back-links appear. That is what they tell you. The ratings of many meme, linktrain fans seem to back the theory up too. Not with me. Still 41000!
I can only think that my effort to please Technorati fell on stony ground because I am not a real fan! I didn't truly deeply madly believe.
Do you believe in Technorati?
Can't win for losing
I say I am doomed at Technorati, but maybe all is not lost. First, I ended up writing this post and adding a morsel of vaguely engaging 20-second material to the Stumble-o-sphere.
And second, if technorati works, hopefully Kate will see this link on her account and can read about her theme glitch from there. (From technorati I saw that Kate had linked to me and, playing by the internet rules, as I see them, I decided to comment on her blog site, thanking her for mentioning my disappearing hyphen post. No such luck.
No matter where I went on her sidebar, my cursor made her site disappear, piece by piece! I couldn't comment to say thanks, and neither could I click on the contact button to tell her that her theme doesn't work in Safari!
So, fingers crossed, maybe this time it will be Technorati to someone's rescue.
I updated this article following Untwisted Vortex' killer Technorati-related post, and I will add a follow-up to it too. (Don't tell anyone, because I am supposed to be a bit of an emotional stone, but his words brought a momentary lump to my throat - only for a very brief moment, you understand. Like for 0.03 seconds, the time it takes for Technorati to find my stalling account details.)
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| "Your name" is a Kiva lender | "Your site's screenshot" SmartLink Widget | Funny HQ humor store |
Wooden boat owner weirdness
Filed in: Ed's blog spot
We are looking for a new hobby and I was looking through some adverts for second-hand classic wooden boats. The more I looked and read the explanatory blurb, the more my eyes were rolling like a boat in a perfect storm.
If I see a photo of a sharp wooden sail boat scooting across the bay, I think, That's cool. If it is in my price range, I will check to see that at least 2 other sailors in the world have said that it is a functional vessel that floats in all weathers and seas. If there is a survey, I'd like to make sure there is no mention of termites. As far as the living accomodation below decks, all I want to know is that it has a decent double bed plus a flat screen TV and seats that you can sit in without feeling like you are in a church pew. Otherwise, my curiosity goes no further and that is enough info for me to make an offer.
I am very different to the woody owners who view their ship as a precious extension of their immediate family. They talk about a 50 year-old tub like it was a spoilt kid, and they go all mushy and sentimental about how good "She" has been to them, how easy "She " is and "She" has never let them down, (I guess that parallel with a child was a bit off base, but you know what I mean!) To really nail home the delusion, they end by saying you have to go a long way to find such pretty curtains...
In this day and age of a worsening economy, let's face it, there is a glut of boats on the market, so, I should get a good deal, right? But reading some of the personal notes alongside the tech specs, it looks like negotiations could be a bit weird.
Many romantic boat owners insist on a Sale to the right person. To achieve this nirvana, they inflate the asking price, and infer that a wooden boat is a 24/7 maintenance hog and you better be a qualified wooden boat maker and hater of all things fiberglass. Quite frankly, this sort of bull is manna for non-sentimental people like me with more sense than money.
To circumvent the deluded sellers' strange anti-competitve tactic, I will adopt a glazed look and a wishy washy voice and eulogize about the beauty of the boat's lines. I will of course admit to a love of scraping varnish and if it looks like the deal is slipping away from me, I will go on and on and on asking all sorts of intelligent questions about the history of the boat I am interested in.
And when they feel comfortable that I am the right person, and we start talking money, I will mention that it is a bit over-priced because the boat looks like a maintenance hog. They will be horrified at such a slight against their baby, so, being a sharp negotiator, I will say that, actually, on closer inspection, it looks incredibly well maintained and it will be an honor to keep it that way.
Back at the table, back in their good books, they will want to talk money,at which point I will then plead poverty. But not so poor that the offer isn't tantalizing. Smiling gormlessly at them like the Steve Buscemi character in Fargo, I will keep my cool as they weigh up the first offer in 9 and a half months. I am confident they would sell their beloved lump of wood to almost the right person.
In a moment of cruel jest, I fantasized about trying to buy a treasured wooden boat without revealing that I was looking for one as a prop for a remake of the movie "Last of the Vikings". The look on the ex-owners' face as they watched their ship crossing the fictitious River Styx, ablaze, would be priceless.
If I see a photo of a sharp wooden sail boat scooting across the bay, I think, That's cool. If it is in my price range, I will check to see that at least 2 other sailors in the world have said that it is a functional vessel that floats in all weathers and seas. If there is a survey, I'd like to make sure there is no mention of termites. As far as the living accomodation below decks, all I want to know is that it has a decent double bed plus a flat screen TV and seats that you can sit in without feeling like you are in a church pew. Otherwise, my curiosity goes no further and that is enough info for me to make an offer.
I am very different to the woody owners who view their ship as a precious extension of their immediate family. They talk about a 50 year-old tub like it was a spoilt kid, and they go all mushy and sentimental about how good "She" has been to them, how easy "She " is and "She" has never let them down, (I guess that parallel with a child was a bit off base, but you know what I mean!) To really nail home the delusion, they end by saying you have to go a long way to find such pretty curtains...
Down to business
In this day and age of a worsening economy, let's face it, there is a glut of boats on the market, so, I should get a good deal, right? But reading some of the personal notes alongside the tech specs, it looks like negotiations could be a bit weird.
Many romantic boat owners insist on a Sale to the right person. To achieve this nirvana, they inflate the asking price, and infer that a wooden boat is a 24/7 maintenance hog and you better be a qualified wooden boat maker and hater of all things fiberglass. Quite frankly, this sort of bull is manna for non-sentimental people like me with more sense than money.
To circumvent the deluded sellers' strange anti-competitve tactic, I will adopt a glazed look and a wishy washy voice and eulogize about the beauty of the boat's lines. I will of course admit to a love of scraping varnish and if it looks like the deal is slipping away from me, I will go on and on and on asking all sorts of intelligent questions about the history of the boat I am interested in.
And when they feel comfortable that I am the right person, and we start talking money, I will mention that it is a bit over-priced because the boat looks like a maintenance hog. They will be horrified at such a slight against their baby, so, being a sharp negotiator, I will say that, actually, on closer inspection, it looks incredibly well maintained and it will be an honor to keep it that way.
Back at the table, back in their good books, they will want to talk money,at which point I will then plead poverty. But not so poor that the offer isn't tantalizing. Smiling gormlessly at them like the Steve Buscemi character in Fargo, I will keep my cool as they weigh up the first offer in 9 and a half months. I am confident they would sell their beloved lump of wood to almost the right person.
Burn baby burn
In a moment of cruel jest, I fantasized about trying to buy a treasured wooden boat without revealing that I was looking for one as a prop for a remake of the movie "Last of the Vikings". The look on the ex-owners' face as they watched their ship crossing the fictitious River Styx, ablaze, would be priceless.
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| "Your name" is a Kiva lender | "Your site's screenshot" SmartLink Widget | Funny HQ humor store |
Wot, I have to work, speak English and be polite?
Filed in: Ed's blog spot
Ed the Editor's personal blog corner
Imagine being sat in a Government office waiting for some paperwork to be processed by a jaded worker who won't stop yakking (speaking) about her weekend and recent job application and boyfriend. She wasn't addressing me, of course, but a co-worker sat across the office - and she was conversing in Spanish.
I thought it was quite ironic, considering the decal that a Brazilian guy, Rodrigo, noticed.
Time and Motion?
I also wonder if any supervisors in Government offices have ever studied Time and Motion! You go into a huge room filed with patiently waiting, processed humans, and sometimes the rent-a-cop at the welcoming desk is in front of you, good, or set off to the side, bad. So when you walk into the latter for the first time, you are bound to be hollered at by the desk person you ignored in your ignorance.
The welcomer's main job seems to be giving you a ticket with a number on it. To make it easy for everyone, there is a predominantly displayed sign showing the number of the next person to be called, but for some unknown reason, the desk person insists on hollering out the numbers in garbled, the language of choice of disgruntled employees. And it is even more ridiculous when that desk person is the only one in the room who cannot see the damned sign without getting out their seat every single bloody time. I never figured how such a physically active person could balloon so much?
Hunting for service
And talking of ballooning, a friend was telling me how he went to an office for a hunting license. This time there was no ticket number, there was no one in the room, except him and an employee sat at the desk reading a newspaper. He stood patiently awaiting a call to arms, and stood, and stood. Unlike the woman he was polite! The woman eventually looked up at him and asked what he wanted! He said the worst thing he could have said,
"I was wondering if I could have the form for a license, please."
Apparently she threw the paper down on the desk and told him to go sit down and wait! Still polite, he did as he was asked, and sat. She ruffled through a desk and walked over to him like she had the weight of the world on her shoulders. At 900lbs (his words, not mine) she could barely walk. And then she thrust the form in his face and sneered,
"This isn't my job, you know." She then flabbergasted him with her closing remark. "I can't handle the stress, I am going to put in for some vacation time!"
Amazing innit. There is something very wrong when that sort of person has to do a job she isn't suited for! Or maybe she was worried that she might be shot by a hunter licensed to shoot big game? Mad!
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| "Your name" is a Kiva lender | "Your site's screenshot" SmartLink Widget | Funny HQ humor store |
Video games save family life!
Filed in: Ed's blog spot
The digital age has been kind to kids with addictive personalities but life has become more complicated for millions of over-worked, stressed-out and substance-addicted parents funding the material needs of their kids.
Shoot 'em up video games in particular seem to have marked the end of home life as we know it, but I predict that video game companies will actually save the family! Thanks to more sporty interactive games, they will single-handedly put the family back on track and leave a warm fuzzy feeling in the home - just like before the rat race took a grip.
Back in the day, kids were given a card board box or a doll and told to go play in the garden for 5 hours while "mommy did some housework." The kids with an addictive mindset drew every ounce of entertainment value from their basic toys and had to be prised back into the house kicking and screaming when it got dark. Despite the concerns that little Johnnies and Janes were displaying weird behavioral patterns, (cardboard swords?) mommies were happy to have so much kid-free time. A few even celebrated their peace and quiet with a martini or 3.
As the economy grew, moms convinced themselves that the family unit could have a better life with more "things" to play with. Going to work for the good of the kids was in fact a sneaky way to get more money to spend on home decor, washing machines and martini, but that is a minor detail.
This social change heralded a good time for all, with parents coming in from work exuberant, bearing gifts, and kids greedily accepting the next generation of playthings. Rag dolls became action men and barbies, cardboard boxes morphed into dirty great forts and castles and real swords. The kids were permanently high on real toys, moms could escape next door to sip a few more drinks with friends, and fathers would breeze around, proud to be able to afford to pay for babysitters so he could take mom out more, to party. Everyone was happy.
People soon got caught up in the more is better syndrome that comes with material wealth, and overlooked the side effect of working all hours, ie absence from the home. Never short of ideas to keep working, parents invented latch-key kids. Addictive kids were left alone for way too long, and in that time they worked out that neglection was good and they could have a lot of fun burning forts and dropping barbies out of windows.
Once it was realised that toys were getting too dangerous, parents demanded more pacifying toys. This was preferable to staying home, supervising their kids. Along came 24-hour TV, and videos. Unfortunately, the wide-eyed and enchanted looks on kids' faces rapidly declined into a glazed look. Conversation dropped, especially when pre-packed dinner was served, and cobwebs developed rapidly on charred forts and abandoned Action Men.
Desperate for the latest greatest entertainment for kids, parents sought alternatives to harmless Baloos and chuckles that had been looping through VCRs for hours on end. Digital video games started to appear and Mario nudged harmless videos to the side lines.
To ride the wave of addiction and keep kids quiet, Dads played straight into the hands of the devil and came in from work with bags of whacky "fun" video games for the kids. Oooh, the kids could hardly contain their enthusiasm until it waned three days and 72 hours of play time later.
Play Station, the true Devil's Toy, took the world by storm and the inter-child fighting got worse. Parents couldn't stand the noise and bickering, so they took loans to finance extra meals out. They even partook of the occasional coke party, anything but be at home with that racket going on. Unfortunately they had to work harder to pay the burgeoning baby-sitting bills, so eventually they had to trim the excesses. First they cut out the babysitters and left kids to take care of themselves. When that didn't work, due to social services prosecuting negligent parents, they decided to throw in the glove and stayed home with the children they had brought into the world.
Family life was no fun, however, and demands at work grew by the day. Dads would return home at 10pm with bags under their eyes, peck their methylated and equally exhausted wife on the cheek and then slump into the sofa next to the demented screaming kids. Surprisingly, that screwy behavior was the beginning of the end of the decline!
Video games makers picked up on the "dad likes video games" dynamic and targeted games at parents too. Harmless bloodless glorified puzzles and insipid Indiana Jones-inspired videos took on an ever more adult theme. Although Mom had a hard time getting traumatised kids to sleep, on the upside, Dads were happy with the blood and gore all over the screen. Fixated on video games, dads were no longer interested in going out with tired and disenchanted wifey. This drop in expenditure helped the family budget improve somewhat. Financially at least, life was slightly on the up.
Unfortunately, the rest of the future of family life looked dire on so many levels. Fatness without fitnness gripped the home. Addictive ritlin-popping children screeched and elbowed each other with a console in their sweaty grip. During the 40 minutes or so per night that parents could spend together, they too fell into similar video-game addictive traits and lost their way, shooting zombies together, pumping themselves with any substance that would shield than from the non-reality of home life.
Finally sense returned to the world, and video games single-handedly brought families back together in a healthy, healthily addictive way. Virtual tennis! Players had to stand up and swing, and communicate and laugh and actually enjoy themselves in a constructive way. Unlike forts and barbies, there was nothing to hurt or burn, and tennis could be played indoors when it rained or after dark. What's not to like.
When kids slept, flabby parents started to play tennis too, and felt physically and mentally better for it. Instead of slugging back booze and pills, they slugged it out in front of a giant screen till they fell into bed exhausted but with a smile on their sweaty faces. Eventually they even played with the kids and talked, albeit out of breath.
The exercise created healthier appetites, and pre-packed processed food was no longer nutritious enough to sustain the video athletes. Demand for home caterers and cookery classes rose. Sadly, there was no work for babysitters, but hey, video games can't solve everything.
Shoot 'em up video games in particular seem to have marked the end of home life as we know it, but I predict that video game companies will actually save the family! Thanks to more sporty interactive games, they will single-handedly put the family back on track and leave a warm fuzzy feeling in the home - just like before the rat race took a grip.
History of play in the family!
Back in the day, kids were given a card board box or a doll and told to go play in the garden for 5 hours while "mommy did some housework." The kids with an addictive mindset drew every ounce of entertainment value from their basic toys and had to be prised back into the house kicking and screaming when it got dark. Despite the concerns that little Johnnies and Janes were displaying weird behavioral patterns, (cardboard swords?) mommies were happy to have so much kid-free time. A few even celebrated their peace and quiet with a martini or 3.
As the economy grew, moms convinced themselves that the family unit could have a better life with more "things" to play with. Going to work for the good of the kids was in fact a sneaky way to get more money to spend on home decor, washing machines and martini, but that is a minor detail.
This social change heralded a good time for all, with parents coming in from work exuberant, bearing gifts, and kids greedily accepting the next generation of playthings. Rag dolls became action men and barbies, cardboard boxes morphed into dirty great forts and castles and real swords. The kids were permanently high on real toys, moms could escape next door to sip a few more drinks with friends, and fathers would breeze around, proud to be able to afford to pay for babysitters so he could take mom out more, to party. Everyone was happy.
People soon got caught up in the more is better syndrome that comes with material wealth, and overlooked the side effect of working all hours, ie absence from the home. Never short of ideas to keep working, parents invented latch-key kids. Addictive kids were left alone for way too long, and in that time they worked out that neglection was good and they could have a lot of fun burning forts and dropping barbies out of windows.
Once it was realised that toys were getting too dangerous, parents demanded more pacifying toys. This was preferable to staying home, supervising their kids. Along came 24-hour TV, and videos. Unfortunately, the wide-eyed and enchanted looks on kids' faces rapidly declined into a glazed look. Conversation dropped, especially when pre-packed dinner was served, and cobwebs developed rapidly on charred forts and abandoned Action Men.
Video sea change
Desperate for the latest greatest entertainment for kids, parents sought alternatives to harmless Baloos and chuckles that had been looping through VCRs for hours on end. Digital video games started to appear and Mario nudged harmless videos to the side lines.
To ride the wave of addiction and keep kids quiet, Dads played straight into the hands of the devil and came in from work with bags of whacky "fun" video games for the kids. Oooh, the kids could hardly contain their enthusiasm until it waned three days and 72 hours of play time later.
Play Station, the true Devil's Toy, took the world by storm and the inter-child fighting got worse. Parents couldn't stand the noise and bickering, so they took loans to finance extra meals out. They even partook of the occasional coke party, anything but be at home with that racket going on. Unfortunately they had to work harder to pay the burgeoning baby-sitting bills, so eventually they had to trim the excesses. First they cut out the babysitters and left kids to take care of themselves. When that didn't work, due to social services prosecuting negligent parents, they decided to throw in the glove and stayed home with the children they had brought into the world.
Family life was no fun, however, and demands at work grew by the day. Dads would return home at 10pm with bags under their eyes, peck their methylated and equally exhausted wife on the cheek and then slump into the sofa next to the demented screaming kids. Surprisingly, that screwy behavior was the beginning of the end of the decline!
Video life on the up
Video games makers picked up on the "dad likes video games" dynamic and targeted games at parents too. Harmless bloodless glorified puzzles and insipid Indiana Jones-inspired videos took on an ever more adult theme. Although Mom had a hard time getting traumatised kids to sleep, on the upside, Dads were happy with the blood and gore all over the screen. Fixated on video games, dads were no longer interested in going out with tired and disenchanted wifey. This drop in expenditure helped the family budget improve somewhat. Financially at least, life was slightly on the up.
Unfortunately, the rest of the future of family life looked dire on so many levels. Fatness without fitnness gripped the home. Addictive ritlin-popping children screeched and elbowed each other with a console in their sweaty grip. During the 40 minutes or so per night that parents could spend together, they too fell into similar video-game addictive traits and lost their way, shooting zombies together, pumping themselves with any substance that would shield than from the non-reality of home life.
Virtual tennis
Finally sense returned to the world, and video games single-handedly brought families back together in a healthy, healthily addictive way. Virtual tennis! Players had to stand up and swing, and communicate and laugh and actually enjoy themselves in a constructive way. Unlike forts and barbies, there was nothing to hurt or burn, and tennis could be played indoors when it rained or after dark. What's not to like.
When kids slept, flabby parents started to play tennis too, and felt physically and mentally better for it. Instead of slugging back booze and pills, they slugged it out in front of a giant screen till they fell into bed exhausted but with a smile on their sweaty faces. Eventually they even played with the kids and talked, albeit out of breath.
The exercise created healthier appetites, and pre-packed processed food was no longer nutritious enough to sustain the video athletes. Demand for home caterers and cookery classes rose. Sadly, there was no work for babysitters, but hey, video games can't solve everything.
 |  |  |
| "Your name" is a Kiva lender | "Your site's screenshot" SmartLink Widget | Funny HQ humor store |
Forgetfulness is a man thing
Filed in: Ed's blog spot
Ed the Editor's personal blog corner
I could tell you the registration number of a car my mother owned in 1974, but I would be completely stumped if I had to tell you what is on the plate of the car we drive now. I have tried to commit it to memory but it just won't stick.
I could tell you that Shirley Ellis sung the Clapping Song, and Lieber and Stoller wrote Elvis songs, because my mother played them when I was 5. Sadly, I don't know the title of a single Britney Spears song. So much for the power of marketing today!
I know that David Gower and Ian Botham, two cricketing legends, both started playing for England in 197-something. How do I know? I was delivering newspapers before school and remember reading the headlines on the back sports pages. Most disturbing, for all the highlights and news programs I have sat through in recent months, I couldn't tell you the name of a single rooky footballer.
So what is that all about then? Long term memory is firing on all cylinders, short term memory is shot? Possibly all that drinking as a younger man has taken its toll and parts of my head are neuronless? Maybe, but I prefer the idea that my inability to recall recent trivia could be a man thing.
Apparently we men only recall what is important to us. Rooky sportsmen destined for jail hold no interest for me any more. Fattening pop stars have no appeal any more. Boxy Japanese cars aren't worth remembering in detail? That all sounds about right. As long as I overlook the fact that I don't know my own telephone number, despite writing it down numerous times, I think this selective memory theory applies to me - and sounds much sexier than early senility.
Now, where is the Save button?
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| "Your name" is a Kiva lender | "Your site's screenshot" SmartLink Widget | Funny HQ humor store |
MyBlogLog Sunday 26
OK - MyBlogLog Sunday is over for another day.
As a tip to bloggers: if you call by next Sunday, feel free to leave a link to your best post of the week in the comments. That way, even if you don't end up being captured in the widget when I start blogging, at least you get to spread the word about your blog.
So endeth the MyBlogLog Sunday posts for this week .
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| "Your name" is a Kiva lender | "Your site's screenshot" SmartLink Widget | Funny HQ humor store |
MyBlogLog Sunday week 26
Filed in: MBL sunday
The 10 MyBlogLog bloggers who last visited this site prior to my late start at blogging have been snapped and will get a mini review later on today. In the Ed style of things, these blogs will be summed up in a few choice words which include a juicy PR5 backlink and a link to their MyBlogLog community. If the bloggers leave a link to their own fave post of the week, I will stumble that post too.
I don't know if it is me being dumb, but I have Stumbled posts via the toolbar and sometimes I am asked to write a review, and other times I just get the Thumbs Up without any review options. I assume others have already stumbled and reviewed those thumbs-up posts and I am just adding to the votes or such like. Is that right, or am I failing in my Stumbling duties
Prize day
I only saw one Technorati mention of MBL Sunday this week, so the 25th birthday contest was a bit a flop. Rather than draw attention to the embarrassing turn out, I will quietly rethink a new contest. Dum de dum de dum....
Permalink is permanent
All mini reviews from today will stay on the homepage (PR5) all week and are instantly added to the archives for a permanent back link to your mini review
MyBlogLog Sunday info links
All hot mini reviews on MyBloglog Sunday!
Internet buzz on MyBloglog Sunday!
How to participate in MyBloglog Sunday!
Weekly round-up of MyBloglog Sunday!
Internet buzz on MyBloglog Sunday!
How to participate in MyBloglog Sunday!
Weekly round-up of MyBloglog Sunday!
Be back later.
PS Since last week's first anniversary, I would like to announce that our second year of marriage has been going really well, thanks.
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| "Your name" is a Kiva lender | "Your site's screenshot" SmartLink Widget | Funny HQ humor store |
