"Het is alsof ik in mijn dagboek schrijf en dat mijn dagboek antwoordt".
"Het is alsof ik in mijn dagboek schrijf en dat mijn dagboek antwoordt".
From the page: Should stumble upon worry at this point? Probably not because stumble upon has a hard core almost rabid fan base that keeps the site going and a steady stream of interesting articles showing up in people's time lines.
"Probably not" should be "yes" if the fan base is what has to protect Stumbleupon from being crushed by the Google Giant. The number of people I'm following is falling like the euro without me unfollowing these stumblers. That means they're deleting their accounts. Need I say more?
This place is not as 'gezellig' as it used to be.
---Take an invigorating music bath here---
I went to this concert of Wanda Jackson and she was terrific! She may be 74 years old, but she still
rocks your socks off and flirts with younger men in the audience. A few adorable old lady characteristics maybe:
* She wasn't sure what day it was.
* She LOVES talking about the past.
* A self-proclaimed "senior moment"where she had to ask the guitar player which song was next on the play list.
The band she played with was awesome. The drummer especially looked like he was having the time of his life which made it a joy to watch him play. Thank you, >steroge.stumbleupon.com< (no link, you'll have to copy-paste)
October 24th 2011 will be remembered as a glorious day! In their infinite wisdom the visionary leaders of Stumbleupon made sure we can become more productive stumblers since there aren't fancy photos, colourful themes or lively groups to distract us from our duties.
CIORBA DE BURTA!
*with my best death metal voice*
Jan and I are back from visiting Reea in Romania. 'Awesome' doesn't begin to describe it, but I'm too tired to tell anything about being struck down by God, grilled dick, poison ivy, noroc, cow stomach soup and so much more. Today I need sleep and vitamins,
Joost is offering salvation with his manual for saving your SU blog for your next blogging destination.
It's like a how-to for carefully packing your personal belongings and memorabilia in moving boxes when you have to leave the house you once thought you could grow old in. The home that fitted all your needs for a very favorable rent in the best neighborhood until the Landlord started to make what he called improvements. When you said that things were fine the way they were, he told you not to panic and that you'll learn to love these changes soon enough. As a meager consolation you got air conditioning, which you never needed and didn't even function properly. Still you tried to make the best of it and gave your home that personal touch. Meanwhile the neighborhood also deteriorated rapidly since the Landlord seemed to prefer door-to-door salesmen, who think they can capitalize that unique neighborhood feeling, as tenants. The few friendly neighbors, who hadn't left yet, also got frustrated with the salesmen compulsive need to ask them to be best friends and share everything you like and dislike so they can make the best offers 'just for you'. Some neighbors resorted to an outburst of threats and foul language in a desperate attempt to get those pesky salesmen off their lawn and the Landlord immediately evicted those poor people. Now you're planning to pack because The Landlord wants to increase the water pressure soon and those already leaky pipes will surely burst destroying everything you did to make the place homely in the process.
Damn you, SU, now I'm even using bad metaphors to try to make a point!
"Sun rises above the factory but the rays don窶t make it to the street.
Through the gates come the employees, beaten down and dragging their feet."
Steroge's My Summer Attire will surely go viral on Stumbleupon just like My internet nook of darling Reea. I can't exactly recall this picture of me being taken, though just one look into my empty doll eyes tells me I may have been under the influence of some groovy drug and having a serious case of the munchies:
***Due to unforseen and unwanted changes you'll have to click twice to see my summer attire***
A quote from a highly amusing 2007 case study from the British Medical Journal demonstrating how a generation gap may lead to the misdiagnosis of schizophrenia:
"It was thus unclear whether he was displaying subtle signs of formal thought disorder (manifest as disorganised speech, including the use of unusual words or phrases, and neologisms) or using a "street" argot. This was a crucial diagnostic distinction as thought disorder is a feature of psychotic illnesses and can indicate a diagnosis of schizophrenia. We sought to verify his explanations using an online dictionary of slang (urbandictionary.com). To our surprise, many of the words he used were listed and the definitions accorded with those he gave."
These diagnostic geniuses even added a handy screening tool where medical specialists can test themselves to see if they can distinguish between slang and thought disorder symptoms.
When I asked my Hollywood agent whether I was wise placing myself at the centre of a documentary about bipolar disorder, he replied: "Sure! Contrary to popular opinion you don't have to be gay or Jewish to get on in Hollywood, but by God you've got to be bipolar. I can give you any number of people for your documentary." ~Stephen Fry
I consider this documentary absolutely worthwhile and not just because I'm smitten with Stephen Fry. Although, the part about (very) young children being diagnosed with the disorder makes me feel uncomfortable. Why? For an explanation I'd like to refer to Louis Theroux' America's Medicated Kids.
This brings back sweet memories of my many, many gold fishes, who are all buried between the rose bushes behind my old apartment block, but one in particular comes to mind. Dear Adriaan had long gracious fins with silver linings and shared his castle in a bowl with Bassie. I named the two of them after this obnoxious duo that tricked me into believing clowns and acrobats are fearless crime fighters, who could build an intelligent robot from an analogue alarm clock:
***Google 'Bassie en Adriaan' to see an image of this Dutch dynamic duo***
I guess Adriaan already realized the utter silliness of this concept and resented the fact that he was named after the acrobat in the uncomfortably tight spandex suit. He tried to kill him self several times by jumping out of the bowl, but we rescued the poor soul every time. Until one faithful night he again leaped from his water-filled surroundings while we were sleeping.
I will never forget you, Adriaan! XX
Better late than never: here's my little corner of internet communication taken from an angle that makes an unsuspecting viewer believe there isn't an unsolvable knot of wires next to the desk:
***Use your memory or imagination to insert picture of my internet spot***
I scream for Ice Cream
Last saturday I had the privilege to see WeAreGeek perform with his band "Oh, I see" in Rotterdam. They rocked and I can gladly say that Raoul is just as cool and laid back in real life as he is online.
Also, check out his aubade to coffee. It perfectly captures my love affair with coffee.
"What happens when you throw a cup of hot water in air that's less than negative 20 degrees F?? It vaporizes. Not a single drop will reach the ground."
On your Queens'day trip you'll have to tell more about your arctic adventures, Mike.