Don Smith writes: “You will be saddened to hear that we lost a devoted Lockergnomie this week.
He was my very best friend and a devoted Gnomie and was buried today. His name was Paddy Lawler from Melbourne, Australia.
Paddy died of a heart attack. After I got him to sign up he was always saying - 'Did you see that today on Lockergnome?' I miss him terribly and he is a great loss to our community. Thanks for listening, I delivered his Eulogy today and mentioned just how he loved your site along with everything on the Net. Take care Chris. Life is so short isn't it. Another devoted Lockergnomie in Australia.”

In a couple of weeks, I'll be moderating a panel or two at the Desktop Linux Summit. This event has already generated negative press in certain circles. I'm doing it not because of my interest in the Lindows operating system - I haven't used it (personally), and so I can't pass judgement on it. I made my statement at the end of CFH pretty clear today: 99% of the world who wants to try a desktop operating system other than Windows will be more than satisfied with OS X - not necessarily Linux. Now server-side? That's a different story. But my world isn't necessarily about managing scalable platforms - it's about making personal technology work for persons.

Since starting Lockergnome in 1996, I've built countless friendships. One of the first people to offer support was a man by the name of Michael Robertson. He had just launched Filez.com, and I was in dire need of finding a different Web host. He offered space on their server - for free. Then, for a long while, Lockergnome had an unsolicited link on the front page of MP3.com. In all the time I've known him, Michael has never done me wrong. No matter how this particular situation evolves, I'll do what was originally asked of me. I have no interest in getting in the middle of a holy war. I only have interest in returning favors. He's been a friend to me, and I'm going to be a friend to him. He asked, and I'll oblige. I'm just moderating a panel or two - not overthrowing a government.

So, if you're in San Diego - I'd love to see you. My schedule is still up in the air, but I'd imagine we could figure out something as a group. For what it's worth, I've only ever owned one share of stock in my entire life - and that was given to me as a gift by my wife. It's for Peet's coffee. And you ALL know how I've always felt about that stuff. My friendship with Michael has always been just that - friendly. I'm sure the media will completely ignore this post and crucify him for his company's decision, but… I thought I should let you know why I decided to do this. Not that I need to explain every move I make to the world… but I needed to say this.

Okay, all you little Snozberries (and I mean that in the nicest way) - pick up a grammar book and learn the parts of speech. While you're at it, you might think of walking over to the “Mathematics for Dummies” aisle. I highly recommend “Counting Items in a List, Third Revision.” It's a non-stop thrill ride! Seriously, you made my first Blib a success, but some of you inadvertently skipped necessary words and added endings I didn't ask for. I'll assume you've never played the game before - and that's fine by me. Assume the word type is a root unless otherwise specified. For instance, I'm sure you understand the difference between “verb” and “verb ending in -ing?” Cool. We're set for my second blib next week.

Solonor walks away with a copy of my book this week. There were a few other usable entries (Matt, Ryan, Daniel, etc.). Oh, here's what it came out to be: The Illuminati are lugubrious, dark and deep, But I have hydrants to keep, And batteries to go before I scratch, And batteries to go before I scratch. It's not supposed to make any sense - just like the rest of this crazy universe. Your dreams are your ticket out.

I need (in this order) a: plural noun, adjective, plural noun, plural noun, verb, same (last) plural noun, and the same (last) verb. As soon as I reach fifty possibilities in this post's comments, I'll fill in the blanks and send my favorite one an autographed copy of my book on E-mail Publishing. Deal? Deal. Deal!

The evening had soaked his package with sweat, and it was almost too bulky for one hand to manage. Toto gripped the slightly-mishapen token, pulled it towards his chest, and blasted down the field. A dozen men raced toward him with wreckless abandon. His eyes were on Renaldo, Jorge, Stefan, and Leslie “Boom Boom” Johnson. One by one, they leapt towards his waist, each one missing by a mere six inches. Finally, Johnson made contact. He threw Toto to the ground and smothered him with over two hundred and fifty pounds of pure male energy. Their eyes met as the event culminated; their bodies so close, they could taste one other. It was sweet.

I love it when Canadians sing songs about America. It's just so… je ne sais quois… DUMB. And so, I bring you the ten things I'd much rather watch than the Super Bowel: (1) a live birth; (2) a live conception; (3) Dave Winer; (4) Biodome [with Pauly Shore]; (5) mold; (6) pi; (7) the Raiders play the Buccaneers live on national television; (8) dry erase markers; (9) the back of my own head; and (10) chum… which rhymes with DUMB… and that stands for pool. Which I think Gretchen and Alex's wife just dived into after streaking the complex.

Oh. My. God. Cheyenne just tried her hand at face painting, taking the guacamole and smearing it all over her cheeks. I think she thinks its funny - and it is. What's even funnier is that Maryam's brother is actually here trying to watch the game. Ha! Like we're gonna allow THAT to happen. My can of soda water has mysteriously disappeared, and in its place is a glass of some funky-tasting grape juice. It's kinda making me feel warm inside… although, that could be Robert's brother (who I've caught sticking his hands down my pants more than twice in the past five minutes). I swear. Post one half-naked picture of yourself on the Internet, and people just lose control of themselves.

Okay, we've been joined by Poopty and his favorite pair of legs. Oh, and The Schmuck just ambled through the door. I think someone farted, although I'm not sure if that's just the dip that someone brought. It could be, but I don't know. Most likely, it's the stench eminating from the television. After all, the SUPER BOWEL is on.

Hey, we're celebrating the Stupid Bowel over here at the Scobleses. I've got my laptop Webcam running, as well as my desktop cam - and Gretchen's as well. We wanna keep an eye on our dog. He's been humping the oddest things lately. So has Robert's Brother. And now, he's sitting next to me. I think he's been drinking. Heavily. I plan on bringing you the best of this Sunday afternoon as it happens. Like, two minutes ago, my wife danced topless on the end table. It was a riot, because she was drinking non-alcoholic wine. I should have written something on her chest while I had the chance. There's always tomorrow.

Gretchen is the most abusive first wife I've ever had. She's taking Sprocket for a walk down the block, right? Well, since she hasn't showered yet this morning, she refused to get me a cup of coffee at Peet's (large, with heavy whipping cream). I don't see the big deal. It's Sunday morning - people probably expect you to look unkempt. She'd fit right in with all the homeless homies hanging out on the corner. I don't think she looks all that bad, honestly. She never does. Except sometimes. How much do you love your spouse? Enough to fulfill their caffeine dreams? I go down there all the time for her in my flannel and jeans. Granted, I don't wear my jeans to bed, but at least I don't worry THAT much about my public image. Jesus, ain't that the truth?! Instead of arguing with her, I'm just gonna don my Lockergnome-branded cap, take off my shirt, and head down there on my own. I'll even get her something, too - a hot chai. Just because I love her and don't want her to be mad at me when she reads this post. Or do I?

Last week, I scribbled something in between my nipples. It was fun. Too much fun. So much fun, in fact, that I ran out and registered my own domain name for it. The URL isn't live at the moment, but if you'd like to take a look at the fully-functional site, here's where it's sitting. And yes, everything works - I've been taking orders all evening. Actually, only one person has paid me so far. But hey - that pays for two orders of salmon sashimi.

Every once in a while, our son says something so profound that we have to capture it on video. The problem is: we have no fargin' clue what he said. Bastage! I did my best to chronicle his mutterings (no pun intended), but had an extreme difficulty uncovering their English equivalents. Too bad Google doesn't have a “Puppy” translation engine. They have “German,” but no “Puppy.” That makes absolutely no sense to me. I think MSN has such a tool, but it's buried underneath all the pop-ups and pop-unders. Sprocket doesn't like those kinds of marketing tactics, so I'm forbidden to link to them. Anyway, if you could help me figure out what he's saying, I'd appreciate it.

Okay, I'm all for supporting non-profit organizations, but Volunteer Match just lost my vote. I was deeply shocked (and apalled) at what I found down the street from Citizen Cake. “Get Out. Do Good.” Indeed! What the hell was this guy thinking?! And why does this other guy think it's cool to share his appreciation for mass chaos? To top it off, the blonde bimbo on the end just couldn't help but let us know what she'd rather be doing. The nerve!

In all seriousness, VM is a great resource for people all around the world. Only the first two photos were doctored - but they were askin' for it. The third snapshot, incidentally, was only resized. Let this be a word of warning to all you moron marketers out there: don't give me an in! I'll walk through your door with guns a blazin'! It's not my fault - Tantek took the pictures. I just took 'em to the next level.

True story: Tantek (who uses HyperCard to publish his blog) spent most of the evening admiring Gretchen's mojito. Which, I have to admit, looked mighty tasty. So lush, so minty, so laden with alcohol. What a drink! Why, had we not passed Stinkbob Juicepants on the street earlier, dinner conversation would have remained somewhat civilized. Dessert was topped with my wife's innocent exclamation: “I was expecting it to be about one inch longer.” As were we all, my dear. And whichever viewer voted for my “bloob” today, I'd like to thank you from the bottom of my heart. All your bloggies are belong to me. We came home only to discover that a dog (either Sprocket or Bruno) doused G's X-Files collection with their own liquid symphony.

Hey Applefolk! If there was anything you could ask the Macintosh Internet Explorer development team, what would it be? Are you looking for new features? Better support for X, Y, or Z? Let me know within the hour, because Gretchen and I will have their ear for the better part of this evening. It's nothing more than an informal dinner across town (no biggie). Comment now, or hold onto my piece. That came out wrong. Very wrong.