Tag Archives: Facebook

Twitter Ye Not: Ryder Cup 2010

Ryder Cup captains Colin Montgomery and Corey Pavin have slapped a Twitter and Facebook ban on their teams during this year’s tournament at Celtic Manor, Wales. This is a preventative measure on both parts, designed to stop the leaking of information to media and fans alike.

The ban will also stop players from posting embarrassing updates and status reports. Last month, English cricket international Kevin Pietersen embarrassed himself and his selectors by complaining about his non-selection for the one-day series against Pakistan via Twitter. Nice one, Kev!

If Twitter is banned for the Ryder Cup, we would miss out on some Tweet gems such as:

“Tiger missed out on a hole-in-one but finished with a 69. Some guys get all the luck.” Luke Donald.

“Haha! Sleeping in can pay dividends!” Jim Furyk

“Hey Colin! Who ate all the pies?” Corey Pavin

“Fuck off, Pavin! Call me Mrs Doubtfire again and I’ll cut you a new one.” Colin (Mrs Doubtfire) Montgomery

“Should’ve gone to Specsavers instead.” Padraig Harrington


“Keep your fucking hands away from my wife, Woods.” Lee Westwood.

“I wouldn’t touch her with yours, Lee.” Tiger Woods.

“We’ll win by 18 points to 12.” Ian Poulter.

“It’s a 28 point tournament, you Muppet.” Ross Fisher.

“At last, England loves a German.” Martin Kaymer.

“No we don’t. You’re only here because you won the USPGA, you Kraut!” Miguel Angel Jiminez.

“Is the bar open yet?” Graham McDowell.

Time To Move On

My girlfriend and I broke up last night, just three hours after I updated my Facebook status to read, “My girlfriend is beautiful.” In truth she is — beautiful, but no longer my girlfriend.

I’m not going to share all the details; it wouldn’t be gentlemanly of me to do so. Suffice to say the writing’s been on the wall for a couple of months now. In the end, Mary couldn’t see herself spending the rest of her life with me. If I’m to be honest, I didn’t think I could either.

She’s a great woman, but after a year together, she knew enough to know that while she loves me, she is not in love with me. That’s fair enough. I’m sad and disappointed, but I’m not heartbroken or distraught. We gave it our best shot, but it wasn’t enough.

We had a fundamental difference. I don’t drink; Mary does (but not to excess). I don’t believe Mary sees herself with a non-drinker. I’m not sure if being with a drinker is the way forward for me anyway.

Sad but not broken-hearted

Yes, I’m putting a positive spin on this. It’s the only way to move on. I thanked her for a wonderful year, a year I don’t regret, I wished her well and let her know that I’m always around if she needs me.

I love her to bits. I always will. But it’s time for me to dust myself off and take some time-out. I’ve stuff that needs to get done (like a novel revision, for instance) and now I’ve the time to do it.

Onwards and upwards, I say.

Thank you for reading.

A Portrait of The Artist as a Post-Dystopian 24th Century Vampyre

Don't need no toothbrush!

How’s it going’, horse? I’m not too bad, thanks for bleedin’ askin’. This vampyre shit is the business, init? Not that I thought so at the start, mind you.

There I was, knocking back pints of Bud at Molly’s in Ballybough, minding my own beeswax, when all of a fuckin’ sudden, I’m a vampyre! It turns out that the blood transfusion I got at the Mater (you should have seen the other fella – I hit his face so hard he was eating from a tube for months) wasn’t the “good stuff,” if you know what I mean. No, it was contaminated with some stem-cell virus shite. Now I suck blood and live like a parasite.

Not much change there, so. I did that when I was human, living off my dole and my ma. But now I don’t age; I get to keep my ladykiller looks, as well as my Burberry.

Fuck sake, boys, Dublin hasn’t changed much in 300 years. Fianna Fail are still in power. Just our luck that Brian Cowen got infected at the same time as me. Now no one can turf him off his throne. Still, at least the Boys In Blue finally won the 2312 All-Ireland GAA Football Championship, their first since 19-fucking-95.


I joined Facebook For Vampyres yesterday. I’ve 450,ooo,ooo,ooo friends now; but if I start getting invites for bleedin’ Farmville there’ll be hell to pay.

"Dying Light," by D. Scott Meek. Order it now or face my fist!

The vampyre chicks are a bit of a let-down, though. I’m all for showing off some flesh, but bloody hell, lads, wearing nothing but the smile on your pug-ugly rotten faces is enough to turn me off my shrimp curry. I’ve seen better looking birds at a shooting range.

I still can’t get the hang of Twitter yet. I’ve only two followers: my ma and my best friend, Georgie Sparrow. Georgie is the oldest vampyre in Ireland. We celebrated his 301st birthday last week by getting right and royally hammered in Fairview Park. A right laugh we had.

I better be off; the sun’s coming up and it doesn’t play well with my complexion.

See ya next time, suckers!

(C) James McShane 2010

Scott Meek’s Blog: reading. writing. revolution.

The Book: Dying Light.

“Fight Club” Director Tackles Facebook

image: blog.wikeez.com

David Fincher, the acclaimed director of Fight Club, Se7en and Zodiac, is tackling the birth of perhaps the most important aspect of everyday Internet use: social networking; specifically Mark Zuckerberg’s launching of Facebook.

The tagline is innovative: “You don’t get to make 500,000,000 friends without making a few enemies.”

Being a fan of Fincher’s work, I look forward to seeing how this movie plays out. You can view the interactive trailer at Mashable.com here.

Let me know what you think.

RANT: Hw d u spel ths wurd

Over on WEbook.com, there is a project called Daily WTF?, an interactive blogging site where writers from all walks of life and from all four corners of the world let loose their rants, raves, quiet moments and tortures upon the reader.

No one writer expresses herself with more vehemence than Andalib. And it is with her permission that I republish her most recent blog on text-speak and the lack of imaginative use in the English language. Here is her rant in full. Be warned, though: as is befitting Andy’s style, this piece is not for the faint-hearted.

Rant: Hw d u spel ths wurd

Yes, my dear friends, I know that the title of this particular post is – agonizing to look at but, I had to do it!

I simply had to show you what depths we have sunk to.

Facebook, IM, Twitter, MySpace and whatever else is out there is truly, truly, TRULY a pain in the ass! Yes, they are ‘good’ communication tools; yes, they allow us to speak to others half way around the world; yes, it gives us an inside look into the lives of celebrities and we are privy to some amazing info first hand (I just ate an apple and it was so good!) – um, OK, so maybe not the last one but you get the general idea, right?

Having stated all of that, it irks me considerably when I see that shitty IM lingo appear everywhere. Punctuation, grammar, spelling, pronunciation, synonyms and antonyms are all lost when IM is used.

For example:

‘I bought nice shoes, a nice dress, a nice handbag and the price was nice too.’

‘i luv dis gurl lyk so much i dnt no if id liv if she left me’

The English language is SO beautiful.

It’s eloquent, graceful, classy.

Don’t get me wrong, ‘fuck, shit, c*ck, tits, c*nt’ (parental guidance is due here) and other filthy, vulgar words exist (and are occasionally used by yours truly) but I mean, REALLY!!

Nice, nice, nice??!! There are NO words other than NICE??!!

NONE? In the entire fucking DICTIONARY??!!

Come on, man. SERIOUSLY!!

luv, i , gurl??!!

Wht da fuk mn

wht da fuk

Then the students get a low mark for an assignment, test, exam, whatever for writing shit like that and it’s THE TEACHER’S FAULT??!!

How the FUCK do you explain that one?

‘Your son can’t spell worth shit, Mr. & Mrs. Jones.’

‘Excuse me? What did you say?! Our son is forever writing on the Internet! He text messages all his friends and you’re telling us he CAN’T spell?! This is a vendetta! This is a conspiracy against our Timmy! You must be one of those sick teachers who tried to get sexual with our son but he turned you down so now you’re failing him. We’ll go to the school board with this! You’ll see! We have friends in high places who will send your sorry, manipulative, sex addicted ass bouncing!’

Oh! Then you get the little bastards who go homicidal, suicidal, fucking completely NUTS when that happens and end up shooting the whole fucking school to bits!


We (and here I mean Facebook, IM, Twitter, MySpace etc, etc, etc) are causing children (and some adults) to LOSE THE ABILITY TO SPELL!!!

It’s a fucking Greek tragedy. I shit you not.

There was a survey held recently by a bunch of people who went around asking American teenagers if they could name the first five presidents of the USA. They went to public schools, private schools, slums, upper class neighborhoods – every where and you know what they discovered?

97% of them did not know the answer!

They then held the exact same survey in China. They asked the same question, the same neighborhood situations, the same schools – everything and you know what they discovered?

100% of them knew the answer!

It breaks my heart to know that these little fuckers who write ‘Hw d u spel ths wurd’ and ‘nice, nice, nice’ will one day be our country’s leaders.

Oh the shame.


Mash-up: The Last Word

I've added this to my Amazon.com cart

I posted a status update on Facebook earlier today, stating that I’d been to the library and picked up some stories by M.R. James and H.P. Lovecraft. Not spectacular about that, true enough. As statuses go, it’s better than “I’m feeding my cat toenails LOL xxx.”

A friend commented, wondering if I was planning on combining the two; but as it turned out, he misread my status. He saw P.D. James, the crime writer, instead of M.R. James, the celebrated ghost story writer.

This got me thinking of literary mash-ups. Most of us are aware of Pride and Prejudice and Zombies and Abraham Lincoln: Vampire Hunter. So what could I come up with if I combined P.D. James with H.P. Lovecraft.

How about Shroud for a Reanimator: A Dunwich Mystery, featuring Commander Adam Dalgliesh and his trusty sidekick, Sergeant Cthulhu?

Would you buy it?

Could you suggest a better mash-up?

“I’ve Gotta Feeling” – Editing to Music

This YouTube video was posted on my Facebook page today and I think it’s one of the most original and funny approaches to the concept of writing and editing. The song used is the Black-Eyed Peas “I Gotta Feeling”, a catchy tune that is ripe for parody.

The lady in question is Jen Hayley and her website is http://www.jenhayley.com.

The Friday Funny

This very funny fake Facebook thread comes courtesy of CollegeHumor, and I just had to share it with you people. What’s a Friday without a little funny, huh?

Thank God It’s Friday.

If this doesn’t tickle your funny bone, nothing will.

The Twelve Steps of Facebookers Anonymous.

STEP ONE: We admitted we were powerless over Facebook – that our lives had become unmanageable, that timetables had been neglected, that our spouses had walked out on us.

STEP TWO: Came to believe that a Power greater than ourselves could restore us to reality – after we’ve come top of our friends’ list at Bejewelled Blitz, that is (no mean feat, let me tell you).

STEP THREE: Made a decision to turn our will and our lives over to the care of our therapists, irrespective of how much they charge per session.

STEP FOUR: Made a searching and fearless moral inventory of our download history, our apps usage and our poking of friends.

STEP FIVE: Admitted to our therapist, to ourselves, and to our partners (if they aren’t already on Facebook – no private messaging allowed) the exact nature of our download history, our apps usage, our poking of friends – and non-poking of partners and spouses.

STEP SIX: Were entirely ready to have our therapist recommend medication in order to relieve these losses of reality.

STEP SEVEN: Humbly asked our therapist for such medication. And if he wasn’t forthcoming, got down on our knees and begged for our sanity. And if that didn’t work, threaten his family.

STEP EIGHT: Made a list of all persons we had endlessly poked, insulted, invited to join groups that no same person would want to be part of, tagged in embarrassing pictures, unfriended, blocked and hidden. This could take time, so keep a couple of weekends free for this step.

STEP NINE: Made direct amends to such people wherever possible, usually in the form of a groveling email or private message, except when to do so would injure them or others. But seeing that most of these people have never even met you, there’s no real need to take this step overly serious. Unless, of course, they know where you live and work – then it’s serious business. Get out the checkbook. I see a lawsuit on the horizon.

STEP TEN: Continued to take personal inventory and when we poked the wrong person at the wrong time, promptly admitted it. This might mean closing down your Mafia Wars and Farmville account; so don’t say you haven’t been warned.

STEP ELEVEN: Sought through referrals from our therapist to improve our conscious contact with the real world, hoping only for the strength to keep away from Starbucks and Wi-Fi.

STEP TWELVE: Having had a rude awakening as a result of these steps, we tried to carry this message to other struggling Facebookers and resolve to Tweet instead.

You know who you are!

With sincere apologies to Bill W. and Dr. Bob – and all members of A.A.