Where In The Web

Top search terms finding Mini Nerd this week:

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if (e.row.rowtype == listitemtype.item | e.row.rowtype ==listitemtype.alternatingitem)
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An admirable series of tubes!

Nerd Summit

Site's been quiet, but the weekend was anything but.

Mini Nerd co-founder and Chief Technology Officer David Roberts was here visiting from Ontari-ario. We managed to cram in a business meeting and two family visits between excessive geeking-out, watching lots of Deadwood, cheering obnoxiously for the Leafs AND the Flames, playing multiple chess games (all of which I lost), reuniting with old friends on Facebook, checking in on Dave's wife (and the upcoming spawn in her belly that was responsible for Dave's quick visit here and now before it's born and prevents our hanging out for 20 years), plus the conspicuous consumption of fine scotch, beer and wine. I also drug Dave around Cowtown on foot while grabbing groceries, seeing the doctor, applying for a passport, and getting my rear bike wheel switched from Tacx-compatibility to road-readiness (of course, it's winter here again and snow now drapes the streets afresh).

Last but most notably, Dave (never a cook in the past) taught me his wife's pad thai recipe (which was delicious), got my wireless internet working (FINALLY), and helped me celebrate the first birthday of Mini Nerd (30 March, dontcha know). We've revamped the site's look for spring and introduced two new functionalities: a slideshow of Mini Nerdchandise available at Cafe Press (find it at the bottom of the sidebar), and the Monstermasher (up top).



The latter is a realization of randomized exquisite corpses for Mini Nerd readers courtesy of a classic illustration toy dear to dork chilluns of the 80s (including myself): the Mighty Men and Monster Maker. I bought a scanner specifically for the purpose of getting the wicked interchangeable art plates from the Maker into digital format for the Masher. Then Dave laid down some sweet code to build Vampire Ape Mad Scientist Superhero Mummies for us all.

Awwwwwwww jazzy.

Please enjoy the fruits of our labor, and if you're able, help support Mini Nerd in its second year online by picking up a Blorthos Cap, a Vampyric Horse Saddlebag, or a Mini Thong. We've also got t-shirts, bumper stickers, buttons, mugs and steins aplenty!

Here are photos from what was a great (if short) visit with my lifelong friend. I thank his wife, nascent kid, and cats for letting me borrow him a few days. Let's make it an annual tradition!


He cooks.




He codes.




He's a keeper.

Televisikinepathy

I'm a little wary of making a post about the boys in red. Last time I did, it was for my first attempt at a blog (failed) and Calgary's first attempt at the Stanley Cup in recent years (also failed).

I wrote in ecstatic, beer-fueled reverie about the pleasure of cheering for the Flames at local hangout The Rose & Crown, and our subsequent stampede (har har) into the finals. I even foregave the gal who emptied her entire pint onto my coat (since replaced) in her enthusiasm, because, as my friend Lisa pointed out, it seemed a prerequisite for a win at those games I watched in public that somebody spill beer all over me. Yes: I am prone to superstition, belief in jinxes and general meaning-mongering, even outside hockey season. And during - let me tell you, buster.

Watching last night's game against the Phoenix Ferrets - screaming, yelling, bouncing on the bed and violently disturbing my agonized lover (for she is at the mercy of her back this week and spent the previous day and night immobile on the hardwood floor of our living room) - I theorized (no, believed), as I always do, the intensity of my passion could propel our team to a decisive win.

(Andrea, bless her heart, forgave me the animated display. I think the reason I was pardoned is she's a hockey maniac, making this an acceptable breach of conduct.)

Maybe you yell at your television set when your team isn't playing up to standard. Maybe you laud these well-paid athletes with oft-deserved applause through the negligible membranes of glass, liquid crystal, plasma or cathode-ray - knowing they can feel your appreciation miles away on whatever ice they carve and conquer.

Me, I take it a step further. I've convinced myself I can achieve a telepathic link with hockey players, particularly my man Dion Phaneuf (chosen not because he became the upstart goal-scorer of the season, but because saying his last name aloud amuses me no end). I can even manipulate his actions with my mind.


Note the clear line of sight from my eyes to Phaneuf's brain.

I guess that's telekinesis, actually. At any rate:

Blame it on too many years playing computer games; playing God, even (thank you, Will Wright). But if we do edge our way closer to that ultimate win on account of my mad televisikinepathy skillz (and yours, too; I believe anyone can do it), then don't turn up your nose at those of us who've spent years honing The Craft.

For what it's worth...at home, in the 'dome, on the road:

Support your Flames!

< televisikinepathy >
Shoot the puck! Skate the ice! (Hi, Doug.) Win the Cup!
< /televisikinepathy >