It begins. The Snook and I are finally making concrete moving plans. Much business ahead. Wish me luck!

Ooh, sweet! I want an iWalk! Now I just have to get rid of my old PDA. I might just give it to Snookums so he can put Linux on it and play around.

Update: Looks like that story’s a fake. The real device is called an iPod and it’s a conventional mp3 player, albeit a tiny one with a massive hard drive. Still cool.

Jakob predicts that web services will spell the end of homemade websites. Though he misses the obvious huge example, I think he’s probably right to an extent. But on every project, you have to guage the importance of the requirements and whether spooging those into a pre-built solution is acceptable. For example, I use PicoSearch for search functionality on my Dahl site. It’s not ideal, but it’s not enough of a priority for me to expend the time and energy to write something myself. But for both RDF and w-g, I decided that I needed to write my own database-driven blogging system. Blogger isn’t always reliable and I wanted something that I could have more control over. So while I think web services are going to lower the barrier to getting online for a lot of people, I don’t think they’re going to completely negate the need for people who know how to create custom solutions. The longer you’re online, the more you want to create a unique place just for you.

London’s new open-air public urinals have finally been unveiled. Here’s what gets me about this: women don’t pee all over doorways and walls. Why the hell do men have to do it? We actually have to cater to Neanderthals who think that just because they can piss standing up, they should be allowed to do it anywhere? No! No, I say. Get rid of the urinals and start ticketing the bastards. Post their pictures on websites that state “I am not toilet trained.” Create a database so women can look up their dates and find out of they’re a public pee-er. Electrify doorways known to attract these fools so they learn to hold it. Why the hell can’t you learn to go before you leave the pub, like any normal female?

Andre Agassi and Steffi Graf got hitched. Aww, that’s sweet. And they’re expecting a kid! I wonder if it’ll feel pressured to play tennis.

Ebert tells the newspapers how it oughta be. Good for him.

Spike quit smoking. Well, James Marsters did anyway. I kinda hope they don’t make the character quit, though. It’s bad enough that they made him all nice now; at least let us watch him smoke and imagine that he’s still a badass. And hello? He sings? B, we are so there. (Link courtesy of Fresh Hell.)

I’m refreshingly naïve. That article would be even funnier if I didn’t resemble it so much.

Max pointed me to the truth about Corey Haim, who I adored so much as an adolescent that I even once considered buying a “Big Bopper” magazine just to get his poster. I ask you, out of all the stars in License to Drive, how is it that Heather Graham has become the biggest star? Oh yeah, she’s a hoochie-mama.

If you experienced any temporal weirdness this afternoon, sorry about that. I seem to have created a rift in the space-time continuum. I had just finished watching Buffy (yeah, another hard day for the unemployed bum) and I switched over to BBC1 to see what the latest war news was. Instead I found myself staring at the insipid faces of Mary-Kate and Ashley Olsen, all tween-ified up and starring in their very own ‘Saved by the Bell’ knockoff. Horrified, I flailed wildly at the remote and managed to change it to ITV… where I was confronted with Mary-Kate and Ashley age seven! What are the freakin’ odds that they’d be on two channels at the same time? Two British channels at that? I guess the BBC has woken up to the fact that those of us at home during the day aren’t exactly a lucrative demographic and they needn’t go to the expense of putting on anything more entertaining than… *shudder*… the Olsen twins.