Operating in a Silo

Month

March 2010

24 posts

Mar 29, 2010
“This coke, my friend told me, had not been “stepped on” with any amphetamine, and I pretended to know what that meant. I felt as intensely focused as a diamond-cutting laser; Grand Theft Auto IV was ready to go. My friend and I played it for the next 30 hours straight.” —Video games: the addiction
Mar 27, 2010
Mar 25, 20101 note
“They kept me in the interrogation room past midnight,” Blanchard says. “And at a certain point, I managed to sneak into the next room and slip through the tiles into the ceiling.” Undetected, he heard the cops run down the hall, thinking he’d gone out the fire escape. After waiting a couple of hours, Blanchard lowered himself down into the mostly empty station, stole a police coat, badge, radio, and revolver. After leaving a single bullet on the desk of his interrogator, he took the elevator to the main floor and strolled right past the front desk on his way out of the station. He hitchhiked at dawn back to Omaha on the back of a motorcycle, holding his purloined police cap down in the wind. “Why are you wearing a uniform?” the driver asked. “Costume party,” Blanchard said as the sun came up. “Really fun time.” —Art of the Steal: On the Trail of World’s Most Ingenious Thief
Mar 24, 2010
The internet should come with an entrance exam → yahooanswerfail.com
Mar 24, 2010
Just Radiohead

Radiohead - Just (Do It To Yourself)

Mar 23, 2010
Mar 23, 2010
#Blog Birthday
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Mar 23, 2010
“America: now one more step closer to becoming a civilized country.” —
Mar 22, 2010
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Mar 21, 2010
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Mar 21, 2010
Mar 19, 2010
“I get a lot of letters asking about my secret. I don’t have a secret. I work hard. There are no shortcuts. No magic beans. No secret formulas or guarantees. I sit my ass down and I write. That’s what I do and that’s what other authors do.

Talking about writing isn’t writing. I know a thousand people who talk about writing, have talked about writing for years and yet, they have no completed projects. They work on the first fifty pages of a story they’ve been writing for five years but have yet to finish a single book. They go to conferences and sometimes even get themselves a request for a full from an editor. But they don’t have a full because they talk about writing instead of actually writing.

Yes, this sounds harsh. I’m not trying to kill anyone’s dream. But writing is a job. A job. If you want it to be a hobby (and there’s not a damned thing wrong with that either, not everyone wants to be a professional author) then it doesn’t matter. But if you want to be a writer you have to actually write. You have to put it first when it’s supposed to be first. Whining to me or to your friends about how such and such has it so much easier because they don’t have a day job or whatever is worse than useless, it’s negative. You will never have any schedule but your own. Period. It doesn’t matter that author x has all day to write in a swanky office with assistants and snacks delivered every two hours. You’re not author x and you’re never going to be an author of any kind unless you stop making excuses and finish the damned book.

Sit. Your. Ass. Down. Write. There’s the secret.”
—Lauren Dane (via rkb) (via diana-vilibert)
Mar 19, 201011 notes

After the first day of a world brewing convention, the CEO’s of various brewing organisations retire to the bar.

Bruce, the CEO of Fosters, shouts to the barman: “In ‘Straiyla, we make the best beer in the world, so pour me a Fosters mate.

Bob, CEO of Budweiser calls out next: “In the States we brew the finest beer known to mankind and i make the king of them all. Gimme a Bud”.

Hans steps up next: “In Germany we invented das beer. Give me ein Becks, der real King of beers.”

Paddy, CEO of Guinness steps forward: “Barman give me a diet coke with ice and lemon please.”

The others stare at him in stunned silence, amazement written over their faces. Eventually Bruce asks: “Are you not going to have a Guinness Pat?”

To which Paddy replies “Well, if you pussies aren’t drinking, then neither am I”.

Mar 17, 20101 note
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Mar 17, 2010
Mar 17, 2010
“Last year in the playoffs against Carolina, I met him in the hall. Or he met me in the hall … and he said to me, ‘Are you gonna have the guts to say to my face what you say [on] TV?’ And I said ‘yeah’ about six inches from his face: ‘You’re a gutless, backstabbing little …,’ and I can’t say what I called him.” —Don Cherry on Matt Cooke
Mar 15, 2010
Mar 11, 201086 notes
When Conan O'Brien says that your life is about to change, believe him. → salon.com
Mar 10, 2010

Reasons why I denied your Facebook friend request

  1. Despite your claims, I don’t remember you from my past
  2. I should remember you
  3. Even after checking with other people I still keep in touch with who I knew at that time, I don’t remember you
  4. The aforementioned people don’t remember you either

I’m sure your story checks out and I’m sure this isn’t some creepy plot to become my friend and sell me Acai Berry juice or a time share in Palm Springs. Sorry.

Real reason why I denied your Facebook friend request

  1. Your spelling and grammar are atrocious.
Mar 9, 2010
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