Today's hurdles, tomorrow's "goals"

So what does Bone do all day?

Perhaps this is a question you've found yourself asking before.  Perhaps it is even a question I have found myself asking before, when several hours seemed to have disappeared with not a trace of anything tangible to show for them.

Today, we begin to answer that question. For today, Google unveiled it's latest interactive doodle: the hurdles.  Go ahead, click over and play for an hour or so.  This post will still be right here when you get back.  It's not like I'm gonna blog again tomorrow or anything.

So I played Google hurdles today.  And -- and this is an important "and," for without it this post would be over now -- I tweeted about it.  (Don't worry, I'm still watching the Olympics, but occasionally I need a break.  I mean, there's only so many hours of Greco-Roman Wrestling a man can watch.)

I believe my day can most accurately and succinctly be summed up in these 140-characters-or-less bits of social media goodness.  Therefore, with apologies to J. Adamthwaite and anyone else who follows me on the Twitter and may have already had the misfortune of reading these once, I present today's tweets:

/begin Twitter log
Oh I'm gonna be doing this Google hurdle thing all day now.

Just shaved 3 seconds off my hurdles time! That's gotta be virtually unheard of in Google-ympics, right?

I don't wanna work. I just wanna play Google hurdles all day.

Someone should video me playing this. Teeth clenched, face in some sort of odd contortion. Don't tell me this isn't a real sport.

My guy is slow! Where's the option to select the Princess from Super Mario 2? She could float right over these hurdles.

I kept getting tripped up by the first hurdle for the longest! That'll ruin your whole day. I mean, race. (I meant day.)

11.3 seconds! They need some Easter Eggs on here, like hurdle invincibility, or "break twelve seconds and unlock the Usain Bolt character."

Amazing stat: Every 2.5 seconds today, someone has tweeted about #GoogleDoodle... And that someone is me.

Remember the Laff-A-Lympics?  I loved that!  The something Yogis, the Really Rottens, and... can't remember the other team.

FYI, I'm using both index fingers to run, and my left pinkie to jump. Requires extraordinary index-pinkie coordination.

Get your arms up! You run like you're about to do the vault.

I think I would do better if there were music playing like they have in gymnastics.  Maybe "St. Elmo's Fire." Or "Ride Like The Wind."

11.9. Crap! And why isn't Google showing the Olympic and world records in the bottom left corner while I run?

Oh!  The Scooby Doobies!  Duh.  #LaffALympics

Could one say that I am easily entertained? I think at this point it's at least conceivable.

Why do people keep walking in?!! You think Missy Franklin's boss keeps coming into the pool place every five minutes while she's practicing?

This requires like twelve seconds of absolute concentration and focus. Which is the longest I've focused on any one thing in five years.

11.3! BOOM! #GoogleDoodle OK, my hand is cramping. Seriously. #athleteproblems

Tomorrow on the Keyboard Olympics: Modern Pentathlon. YESSSSS!!! I'd better do some finger limbering exercises tonight.

11.0! OK, I think I'm done. Thanks to all of you who did not unfollow me. Today, and always.
/end Twitter log

And that's what Bone does all day.  At least for today.  And no, I'm not gonna spend all day tomorrow again playing the hurdles. Don't be silly.  Give me a little credit, would you?

There's a new doodle tomorrow: Basketball!

I'm gonna spend all day playing that.

"It is the night / My body's weak / I'm on the run / No time for sleep / I've to ride / Ride like the wind / To be free again..."

XXI to XVII

For those of you who don't follow me on Twitter, we have a special treat for you today.  Seeing as I basically live-tweeted the Super Bowl yesterday, I thought I might share said tweets with you.

Think of it sort of like when the cable company offers free HBO for the weekend.  A brief glimpse into the premium side of Bone.  Or if you missed the game, think of this as the Cliff's Notes.  This is all you really need.

So sit back, pretend you're on the couch there with me as we take in the sights and sounds of Super Bowl XLVI.  Or I'll even let you sit on my Bama beanbag if you want.  And I hope you brought a friend.  Otherwise, there could be some weird tension if it's just the two of us.

(Note: I dozed off a couple hours before kickoff.)

/Begin Twitter log
I just dreamt I was chewing like twenty pieces of gum -- Wrigley's, Spearmint and Doublemint. #nap #subconscious

Aaaaand I missed Kelly Clarkson.

Why don't they keep score with #RomanNumerals? OK, I will. That's IX to... Wait, what's zero in Rome?

Apparently, there is no Roman Numeral for zero.  #IGuessThatsWhy

Officially abandoning my quest to elliptical the whole first half. Can't hear the commercials.

IX to III. Ah, much better.

My Mom, the other day: "Tom Brady's nearly too pretty to be a football player." What's an appropriate response to that? "Uh, yes, he is?"

Speed dating! Bahaha.

There's way too much football game in between these commercials.

X to IX. VIII seconds left in the half.

What's Madonna gonna sing?  I'm hoping for "Papa Don't Preach."

Oh!  That was a G.I. Joe movie trailer.  I thought it was gonna be a kickin' Mountain Dew commercial when it started out.

Bueller!!!! FTW!

I sure hope everybody's at a Super Bowl party.  Else I'm probably losing lots of followers tonight.

Off night for Budweiser. Wow.

Collinsworth: "You get an offsides, and then that 3rd and 8 turns into 3rd and 2." Evidently they're giving 6 yards for offsides now.

Hyundai tonight.#winning

Also loved the Seinfeld commercial. Betcha never could've guessed that.

And then there's the ads that make me never want to buy a product from that company.  Ever. #Samsung

And your Roman Numeral final tally: XXI to XVII
/End Twitter log


If you would like to join me on Twitter -- and after that, well how could you not -- just leave your Twitter handle in the comments and I'll follow you.  But hurry, I plan to cut it off at a thousand followers.  (For those who are curious, I currently have 22.)

If you would like to subscribe to HBO, contact your cable or satellite provider.  Then you can DVR Curb Your Enthusiasm and invite Bone over for a TV night.

I know, BYOB... Bring your own beanbag.

"Papa don't preach, I'm in trouble deep.  Papa don't preach, I've been losing sleep..."

Rockin' Robin

From the get-go, Twitter sounded like a verb I may have tried doing to a girl once when I was nineteen mistakenly thinking she would enjoy it. I never really saw the point. Of Twittering, that is.

Who wants to read someone else's every waking thought of every single day? Well, apparently 2,687,219 people, if the someone else is Snooki.

Also, I have always been afraid of saying something in cyberspace that could come back to haunt me and any future political career I may have. Not that I'm pursuing one, but you never know. And so I continued to resist Twitter.

Besides, I'm not what you would call a social media socialite. I post a status update on Facebook maybe once a month -- albeit often an incredibly witty one, if only in my own mind.

Figuring that if I'm already a bad Facebooker, there's no way I would be a good Twitterer, I took the only logical next step: Throwing caution to the wind as it pertains to any future political aspirations, I joined Twitter.

That's right, I am now one who Twitters. Or as the kids say, Tweets. Whatever you call it, suffice it to say, I am in that Twitting arena.

While that may not seem like much to you, it's kind of a big deal to me. You see, if things continue to progress, I will soon become the first person in my family to use a hashtag. Sorry, sometimes I get choked up talking about it.

One of my first impressions of Twittering has been how difficult it is to keep Tweets to the predesignated limit of 140 characters or less. To date, I have Twitted eight times in five days. But I've probably typed at least that many others that were well over the limit. To somewhat remedy this, I've decided that any over-the-limit Tweets which cannot be shortened without losing the integrity of the original thought will be filed away under possible future Facebook statuses. Or stati, as I like to pretend the plural of status is.

Meanwhile, one of the unforeseen benefits of Twittering is that it really cuts down on the time you need to spend conversing with the other humans. I mean, if you Tweet the highlights of your day along with most every thought you have, what's left to say?

Answer? Not a lot.

You just wind up having lots of conversations like this:

Bone: "Hey, did I tell you I finally popped my enormous back pimple?"
Twitter friend: "Yeah, I saw you Tweeted about it."
Bone: "Oh.... well, I'll see you later then."

Needless to say, that's just an example of what a conversation might entail. I haven't had a back pimple in months! Still, there's an indescribable peace that comes when you realize you don't have anything left to say. Or maybe that's just me.

In closing, I would say that Twitting has been better than I anticipated. And while I'm just getting started, I fully expect that after this post my number of followers will at least double. From four to eight.

As for what comes next for me, it's hard to say. Perhaps I'll finally break down and get that DVR.

I feel like I'm rushing headlong into 2008.

"Even on a slow day, I could have a three way, chat with two women at one time. I'm so much cooler online..."