andyc’s posterous

Montreal, near Canada.

Friday 18 September 2009.

Evan Prodromou took the microblogging world by storm today by announcing a major upgrade to the status.net microblogging platform.

The widely popular 'real-time' interface XMPP is now capable of sending and displaying the apostrophe character.

Major rivals in this space have had this functionality for a while and long standing, loyal XMPP fan boys claimed that all punctutation characters were supported briefly from 17 January until a Valentine's Day style massacre on February 14.

Conpsiracy theorists thought this was some elaborate hoax after leading identi.ca evangelists were dispatched around the globe in a futile hunt for the missing apostrophe characters. Michael C Harris toured Central America while Andy C was sent to search various convicts living in Western Australia.

Only today, Dan Lynch of Liverpool, has commenced a covert operation (financed by Fabian) and was flying to the West Coast, hiring a car and driving to Montreal to kidnap the extended Prodromou family, demanding the return of the missing punctuation characters and plead for the immediate release of the Unicode enabled smileys and 'emoticons'.

Evan Prodromou was unrepentant: 'Im staggered by the reaction and I really dont know whats all fuss. Weve coped perfectly fine without all those pesky apostrophes. Weve also solved all those stupid arguments about the correct use of its and its. On status dot net (that why we always spell out dot by the way, the period character won't be available until V3.1), this simply isnt an issue.'

Evan continued: 'This heralds a brave new world, real-time microblogging complete with a full punctuation set. We call it: 'Web Two Point Now'.

'And you can quote me on that.' Just remember to use AltGr 0'.

Thoughts on the addition of custom and Tumblr compatible themes.

Obvious really. The FA and the police should have seen the disorder at last night's Carling Cup tie between West Ham and Millwall coming.

Nothing to do with East End rivalry. Nothing to do with Millwall's notorious hooligan element.

The problems were started by lengthy queues at all cashpoints in the vicinity of Upton Park before kick-off. None of these professional Cockernees could decipher the rhyming slang.

Most of the Australians I met on my recent holiday were brilliant people; friendly, welcoming, great company and most possessed a very British style sense of humour.

However, there was one element of my Australian experience that was slightly irritating; the tendency for people to ask questions. For example, if you ever purchased goods in a shop using a card, you were immediately greeted with 'Credit or savings ?'

Another fine example was the following exchange one early morning at Brisbane airport where I attempted the seemingly simply task of purchasing four hot drinks as we waited for a short flight to Hamilton Island.

'Good morning - Aaaahhh yaaah gaawwnn ?'

'Good morning. Well, we're going to Hamilton Island for three days. It should be fantastic.'

'Naah - I said 'How are you going ?'

'We're flying - how do you think we're getting there - kayaking ? Plus, we're in an airport. That's a rather obvious clue.'

'No worries. What can I git yer ?'

'A tea, a coffee and two hot chocolates, please.'

'What sort of tea ?

'Err - what have you got ?'

'Green Tea, Liptons Tea, Earl Grey, Camomile Tea, English Breakfast, Iced Tea, Ass...'

'English Breakfast would be great. Thanks.'

'What size tea ?'

What sizes are there ?

'Small, regular, large.'

'OK - small please. Thanks.'

'What else did you want ?'

A coffee and two hot chocolates, please.'

'What sort of coffee ?'

'What have you got ?'

'Flat white, latte, mocha, frapp...'

'Oh Latte, please.'

'What size latte ?'

'Small, please.'

'What else did you say again ?'

'Just two hot chocolates please, Two small hot chocolates, please. That's all thanks.'

'Do you want sprinkles ?'

Now this question threw me a little. I looked back towards where the family were sitting at Gate 3. I saw much tapping of fingers, much looking at watches and much feigning of dying of thirst.

Inevitably, Norma was busy doing what she does best whenever she is located in an airport - busy reviewing the shopping facilities ready to conquer the world with her very own, embryonic 'Worldwide airport shopping and duty free outlets' blog.

Worse, one of the people who had requested a hot chocolate was also doing what she does best whenever she is located in an airport terminal - busy reviewing the toilet facilities ready to conquer the world with her very own 'People who have visited the toilets at Brisbane airport (domestic terminal just outside gate 7)' group on Facebook.

Now I had to think quickly, very quickly. People behind me were sighing and saying 'Ah, mate, just get a bloody move on , will ya ?' in a very un-British way.

I gestured frantically to Norman Junior III, sprinkling fictious sprinkles over a fictitious hot chocolate drink and raising my thumb up, smiling then turning my thumb down, frowning.

He looked rather quizzically and mouthed 'She's in the shop'. I re-doubled my efforts and repeated my sprkinkling gestures.

He looked rather quizzically and mouthed 'She's in the toilet.'

I gave up my charades, ignored the laughter behind me and turned back to the assistant.

'Yes please. Sprinkles on both.'

'Marshmallows ?'

'Sorry ?'

'Marshmallows ? Do you want marshallows on the hot chocolates ?'

By now, I was feeling I was the victim of some cruel joke and an Aussie version of Jeremy Beadle was going to jump out clutching a microphone. Either that or I was taking part in the Two Ronnies' legendary 'Fork Candles' sketch.

This endless interrogation was getting ridiculous but I resumed my mime act and frantically tried to get a response from Norman Junior III.

I decided to re-enact the famous scene from Ghostbusters where Marshmallow man strides all over the New York skyscrapers but he just looked quizzically and mouthed 'Can I have a muffin ?'

'Yes please. Marshmallows on both hot chocolates.'

'Is that all, mate ?'

'Yes.'

'Would you like me to go over your order ?'

'Well, no - I'd rather you got on and dispensed the drinks as my flight will be boarding soon' but I contented myself with 'Yes, please.'

'So, you want small latte, small English Breakfast, two small hot chocolates with sprinkles and marshmallows ?'

'Yes, yes - that's correct. Thanks.'

'Can I get anything else for you today ?'

'No thanks. That's all.'

'And how are you going to be paying today ?'

I briefly about offering plastic but quickly find $20 to avoid the inevitable 'Cheque or savings' interrogation.

Finally, the torture is over. I wait in the line for five minutes and the drinks are finally served. I grab the drinks and am looking around for a plastic stirrer.

'Are you the guy who asked for 'Small' ?'

'Err, yes.'

'Didn't you realise we don't do 'Small' any more - since July 25th, in fact ?'

'Err, no - I just ordered four hot drinks.'

'Yeah, well Eileen should have told ya. It's Regular or Large now. Only. No Small any more.'

By now, I'd had enough. I decided to turn the tables.

'Have you got a tray, please ?'

'Listen, I've given you four Regulars but I've only charged you for four Smalls.'

'Oh - that really is most kind. How can I ever thank you enough ?'

'Full sized tray or cardboard holder ?'

Most companies I viist have a (subsidised) coffee shop so I am used to waiting for my morning coffee and hearing a wide variety of exotic concoctions called out to the eager, caffeine starved workforce.

• 'Large Mocha'
• 'Tall, skinny Latte'
• 'Overpriced Tea'
• 'Decaf Americano'
• 'Espresso with an extra shot'
• 'Frothy Cappucino with extra froth'
• 'Pomegranate Peach Frappuccino'

But this morning, I was privileged to hear a new and exciting drink announced.

'Grandee Hot Water'

'Anyone suffering from the desire to communicate what they are doing or thinking every minute of the day in fewer than 140 characters is best described as a twat.'

Janet Street Porter calling me a 'twat'. Possibly my proudest moment.

I prefer to define µblogging as 'an infinite byte stream of inane drivel' but I also enjoyed Stephen Fry's post on the same subject:

'40% of Twitter is “pointless babble”, which means of course that a full 60% of Twitter discourse is NOT pointless babble, which is disappointing.'

Friday

'Can I touch them ?'

'No. Not yet.'

'Look - it's been four months now. When can I touch them ?'

'Not yet. I've already told you, I'm not ready'.

Sunday

'Please can I touch them ?'

'No - not yet. Just a couple more days. But you can help me, if you like.'

'Oh what is it now ? The footy's on in a minute.'

'Listen. Forget about the god-damned football for just one minute. Put your pole in here now because I want to drape them all around your pole.'

Crikey - this was like birthday, significant anniversary, Christmas and the last 5 minutes of the 1999 European Cup Final rolled into one. What a superb, generous, unsolicited and unexpected offer !

'Norma-Jeane, Norma-Jeane - set the V+ to record the footy - channel 511, will you ?'

I rammed my pole home hard and wiggled it about a little to ensure is was erect and vertical.

'Is that it ? Now what ?

'I am going to tie three knots at the base, in the middle and on the top of your pole. Pass me that green twine.'

Now I'm open minded and all for experimentation. Just as long as it doesn't end in autoerotic asphyxiation. Especially with my asthma.

'OK - that's not too bad. Now what ?'

'We wait for a couple of days.'

Wednesday

'Maybe I could just hold one - just for a second ?'

'No. Just a couple more days. It'll be worth the wait, I promise.'

Saturday

'OK - I'm ready. Shall we take one each ?'

Finally, the moment has arrived and the waiting is over. I breathed deeply, leant forward and took the forbidden fruit (the left one) in my hand.

'What do you think ?'

'It is just beautiful; firm, pert, round, perfect shape and just the right size.'

'Do you want to bite it - but just gently ?'

I certainly didn't need a second invitation and slowly brought it up to my mouth. I paused to savour the smell and marvelled as I stroked the smooth skin, devoid of any blemishes.

I bit - a little too hard. I heard a gasp and a soft moan.

I felt an explosion of liquid in my mouth. I was taken to another place. I closed my eyes. I was in heaven.

Then, I suddenly realised I had seed dripping down my chin.

'What are you pulling that stupid face for ? Go and pick six more ripe ones for tea. Oh - and you've got tomato juice all down your work shirt.'

So, if you want to save money in these tense, difficult economic times and rejuvenate your sex life, grow your own tomatoes.

I like most sports but I hate rugby union with a passion for the following reasons:

At (Grammar) school, I was forced to play rugby because it was somehow viewed as 'character building'. On a cold, wet autumn day, a sports master took one look at me and grunted 'You. Second row'. I then proceeded to grab the crotch of the boy in front of me while a boy behind me grabbed my crotch. I then had to insert my head between the thighs of two boys in front of me.

If the scrum didn't collapse, which meant we had to start the prolonged mating ritual all over again, eight lads would eventually extract our body parts and look across the wet, muddy field in the hope that someone was running somewhere with the ball. Of course, this never happened and the sports master would be screaming 'Scrum it down, 'ere' so we would have to run to the prescribed point (the only exercise we got all afternoon) and start all over again. Brilliant, 'character building' stuff.

At University, the Union Sports bar was notable for one thing only. It was only hostelry out of the 27 available that was open during the early afternoon hiatus between 2pm and 4pm. Consequently, we spent a lot of time there - not because we played any competitive sport representing the University but because we liked to drink all day long, if at all possible.

Our long, wide ranging philosophical discussions were often interrupted (particularly on a Wednesday) by people standing on the tables, singing bawdy songs, loud and out of tune. As the afternoon proceeded, various items of clothing would be discarded until they were fully naked, singing their stupid, crude rugger bugger songs while we discussed urgent, pressing, important matters of global interest (which bar should we adjourn to next). That was just the women's first XV - things only got worse when the blokes arrived fresh out of the showers,

And the final reason that rugby union is a complete joke - the disciplinary code

• Spear tackle (holding someone upside down and smashing their head into the ground which could potentially kill them) - no action.
• Eye gouging (twisting your fingers hard into someone's eye socket which could result in the loss of an eye surprisingly enough) - 8 week ban.
• Feigning injury to seek a tactical advantage - 4 month ban for player (reduced from 12 months after digging the dirt), 3 year ban for coach, 2 year ban for physio, £260,000 fine for club.

'I miss seeing Cockneys trying to get a taxi in Moss Side.'

Noel on Maine Road and the good old days.

I have followed the development of Google Reader since it was launched in 2005.

Having used Thunderbird and then NetVibes, I have used Google Reader for the last two years to read blogs. The main reason I like Reader are the UI, the keyboard shortcuts for quick navigation and the fact I can also use it on mobile devices and multiple computers.

During that period, I have sporadically marked articles that interest, amuse or shock me on my 'Shared Items' feed and Google recently added improved support for the sharing of 'Shared Items'.

I normally try to use 'Share With Note' and annotate the entry as to why I found it noteworthy and I also mark items with a 'Star' as a private bookmark; normally as 'To read later' or 'Possible input for blog'.

Google have recently improved the sharing of 'Shared Items'. Happily for Google, the timing of these new these features just happened to coincide with FriendFeed's acquisition by FaceBook which prompted much fear, uncertainty and doubt amongst the FriendFeed community, some of whom are looking for viable alternatives if FriendFeed development comes to a halt (or worse, the service closes).

Louis Gray and Rob Diana have both adopted Google Reader which has helped to spark interest in the service and Google is already making additional tweaks and improvements in response to user feedback.

Personally, I have started to develop (yet another) network of people sharing content of interest and already I can see a change in the way I consume content in Google Reader. Firstly, I scan the 'Shared Items' of my group and I tend to find that, by the time, I get to my conventional list of feeds, most of the articles of interest have already been brought to my attention eariler by the 'Shared Items'.

However, there is a problem with de-duplicated posts and even with 50 'Friends' managing the signal to noise ratio promises to be an issue. The social features are relatively new and there are a few rough edges in Google Reader (people keep getting dropped from 'Groups, people can't comment on an article without being a member of a group) but for me, Google Reader has the potential to supplant FriendFeed as it focusses on the content (news, blogs etc) that interests me (rather than LOLcat pictures).

I also believe annotated shared items are much more valuable and than a plain, old, tired, outdated blogroll.

Here's my feed of 'Shared Items'. If you use Google Reader, it would great if you could share your 'Shared Items' feed in the comments below as I would be genuinely interested in seeing what you're currently reading and enjoying.