Steve Hooker's Radio: kids, war, blogs, gadgets: A Welsh man in the wrong country, going home
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Independent web developer. Graphic designer, web designer, Frontier developer, Manila hoster, latest project: intranet build for Government Office of West Midlands (UK), committed blogger since 1999.
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M. is an unusually Zen teenage boy -- dreamy and ruminative about his
personal relationships. But his obsessive online habits are hardly
exceptional; he is one of a generation of compulsive self-chroniclers,
a fleet of juvenile Marcel Prousts gone wild. When he meets new friends
in real life, M. offers them access to his online world. ''That's how
you introduce yourself,'' he said. ''It's like, here's my cellphone
number, my e-mail, my screen name, oh, and -- here's my blog.
Personally, I'd go to that person's blog before I'd call them or e-mail
them or contact them on AOL because I
would know them better that way.''
And this is how reputation will be (is) amongst businesses and individuals in businesses. The grown up world isn't so far away.
1555 Also posted to: cyberSaps
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Other title(s) for this story: My So-Called Blog (or reputation amongst teenagers)
She looks a picture. Though the singing is pretty awful. I guess she'll get better when she knows the words.
1554 Also posted to: personal
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Other title(s) for this story: In her new disco dress
On top of the bridge I say, stand together for me to take a picture. Which Esme takes as a cue to for her and Bradley to pull funny postures.
And so it goes on. Remember, the bridge is quite full, and people stop while you're lining up the picture, then carry on past.
We look a sight.
She's pulled her coat down like that purposely, I don't think she's trying to look vixen like, but she does.
Wild west?
Just bought it. Been wanting one for a while, and this fitted, and was the right price. Happy in my hat.
1553 Also posted to: personal
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Other title(s) for this story: On top of Ironbridge we pull funny poses
A little diversion. I needed to entertain the kids for a few hours. So, after picking up my Lottery winnings of £10 we head for Ironbridge.
Back in May, it was much more green.

All this was totally under water today.
As usual we buy an ice cream, argue as we walk up the town to the museum behind which is our favourite throwing stones into the river bank.
She washes it and puts it into her pocket. I wonder if she's still got it. Did she bring it home? I remember her showing me as we walked up towards the bridge.
Esme finds a pretty stone. It's a slag stone, from the foundries here abouts. I used to find them when I was a kid on old railway lines, thrown out from the steam trains.
Takes me back in time for a second.
But, boy is it in full flow! Must be nine feet above the level back in the summer. In the photo below, taken in October, you can see the trees at the top left, that we're standing by today.

The muddier the better. And Esme wants to go for a paddle, even though I explain 40 thousand times that the water is very, very cold. "You'd get frost bite and your toes would turn black and drop off." This shuts her up for a while, till she starts on about the frostbite...
Not many stones to chose from. We stay only a few minutes, as it's fast flowing, cold and steep. I don't want to dive in after anybody.
1552 Also posted to: personal
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Other title(s) for this story: Throwing stones in full flow River Severn

