The Snoozeletter @ s.9TimeZones.com

 
Social Networking Equation. 

Okay, I think I've put the finishing touches on my long-awaited Social Networking Equation:

L = F-(C+H)²

, where:
L=LinkedIn
F=Facebook
C=Creativity
H=Humor
 
The Social Network. 

Facebook is the neighborhood pub for geeks like me. At its best, it can be an Algonquin Round Table. It's also a way to socialize with friends in faraway places, along with people who live just down the block. We can time-shift our get-togethers, too. No need to consult filofaxes, sync phone schedulers and check previous spousal commitments. No need to dress up for the occasion. We can do meet-ups in stained teeshirts and three-day-old underwear. We can fart, belch, pick our noses, scratch our butts and even drool. I can't tell you how much I love to drool.

We can also avoid: driving all over h*ll's half-acre while trying to find the trendy out-of-the-way restaurant that's been chosen, eating what everyone else is eating, being polite while some unknown d*ckhead monopolizes the conversation, drinking what everyone else is drinking, appearing to be interested and/or conscious, scarfing down gutbuster food while pretending to smile, putting up with screaming rugrats at the next table, sharing a "fried onion blossom" finger-food (whatever the f*ck that is) with sneezing half-familiar strangers, sucking in our guts, waiting for the designated driver to finish hitting on the busboy, sitting with nothing to say except "wow... you've really gained weight since high school," watching the clock to carefully calculate the precise moment when it's no longer impolite to leave, and splitting the check eight ways after ordering/consuming 3% of the total.

No more: pricey restaurant bills, outrageous bar tabs, tips for snotty waiters, bloating, indigestion, acid reflux, projectile vomiting, diarrhea from the bad clams, organizing half-hearted dinners to reciprocate for mind-numbing parties that were better left unmentioned, waiting behind rope-line stanchions to get into ear-splitting clubs, stumbling and falling into gutters, picking dogsh*t out of our pants, sleeping on park benches, fighting DUI arrests, scraping up bail money, and recovering from hangovers.

Best of all, we can simply deposit little radioactive turds on our friends' timelines and scuttle away into the night.
 
The Meaning Of Like. 

thumb downWhen you click Facebook's Like button:

1) Like means Like.
2) Like means I Agree.
3) Like means Attaboy/Attagurl.
4) Like means Me Too.
5) Like means Cute Pic.
6) Like means Great News.
7) Like means Right On, Sistah/Brutha.
8) Like on a negative posting can mean: Condolences/Hang In There/Fight The Power/You Stupid Melonhead.

Also: Facebook Like button rubber-stamped into physical meme (Engadget) details + buy

Raunchy: dislike + Facebook needs this

Facebook card + details ("Don't leave cyberspace without it.")
 
The weather squirrel. Groundhog DayGroundhog Day, by Danny Rubin and Harold Ramis, from a story by Danny Rubin:

PHIL CONNORS (Bill Murray): This is one time when television really fails to capture the true excitement of a large squirrel predicting the weather.

***

PHIL: Come on, all the long distance lines are down? What about satellite? Is it snowing in space? Don't you keep open a line for emergencies or for celebrities? I'm both: I'm a celebrity in an emergency.

***

PHIL: Do you ever have déjà vu, Mrs. Lancaster?

MRS. LANCASTER (Angela Paton): I don't think so, but I could check with the kitchen.

***

PHIL: What would you do if you were stuck in one place and every day was exactly the same, and nothing that you did mattered?

RALPH (Rick Overton): That about sums it up for me.

***

PHIL: Excuse me, where is everyone going?

FAN ON STREET (Leighanne O'Neil): To Gobbler's Knob. It's Groundhog Day.

PHIL: It's still just once a year, right?

***

PHIL: So, did you sleep OK without me? You tossed and turned, didn't you?

RITA (Andie MacDowell): You're incredible.

PHIL: Who told you?

***

PHIL: This is pitiful. A thousand people freezing their butts off, waiting to worship a rat. What a hype. Well, it used to mean something in this town. They used to pull the hog out, and they used to *eat* it. You're hypocrites, all of you!

***

RITA: What did you do today?

PHIL: Oh, same-old same-old.

***

PHIL: When Chekhov saw the long winter, he saw a winter bleak and dark and bereft of hope. Yet we know that winter is just another step in the cycle of life. But standing here among the people of Punxsutawney and basking in the warmth of their hearths and hearts, I couldn't imagine a better fate than a long and lustrous winter.

***

RITA: Have you ever had déjà-vu?

PHIL: Didn't you just ask me that?