Dear Wendy's

How do i love thy Frosty? Let me count the ways:

oh, wait! It's 10 past 10; your dining room's open days.

The window-person tells me that i must have a car.

Oddly enough we're right downtown — the transport hub's not far...

and next to it a foot mall, a round-the-clock locale.

It makes one wonder who you serve, your late night clientele.

You must see all the traffic walking past your door...

"No shirt, no car, no service" ... is it ... 1994?


Why i bike

I get asked this a lot, and it's not always by external voices. So here's my manifesto, a title scribed in the immutable pixels of a video monitor (ahem) to explain this curious habit of mine.

I am the very model of a modern Facebook criminal

I now, technically, have a Facebook account, and this is how it came about.

A friend asked me when i was going to get on Facebook, and i explained that i was tired of social networking sites long before Facebook had displaced the (by my count) second generation web-based social network, Myspace (with Friendster then being the first).