Friday Recap: YouTube BooTube Edition
It is being widely over-reported that Google may be in talks to purchase YouTube for a sum of $1.6 billion. Since TechCrunch reports the rumors have only a 40 percent chance of being partially true, and this isn’t the first, second, or third YouTube rumor we’ve heard lately, we’ll hold out before coming up with fun ideas for the renaming of Google Video.
For me, the most interesting part of a potential Google/ YouTube pairing will come when Mark Cuban suddenly “disappears” after referring to Google as a bunch of morons. Bye, bye, Marky.
On a completely unrelated note, Google says they’re going to stop launching new products and concentrate on making the ones they have better. I like that idea.
Speaking of Google, people are finding a lot of uses for Google’s new Code Search and none of them have anything to do with helping programmers find code on the Web. So far there’s an acronym (backronym?) generator (i.e. joe = just one example; mom = most other machines, and my favorite, lisa = logic is separate and) and the not-so-surprising discovery that programmers have potty mouths. [I get Susan = some uncommon settings are not. That’s very Zen.–Susan]
Because he’s slightly crazy in the head, one Digg member proclaimed that Digg users are potatoes. Yeah. There are no words for his logic, though he tries to find some anyway.
I won’t lie. I’ve never seen or sought-out anything Star Trek-related, and I was the only one not to get the reference when my soon-to-be sister-in-law announced if her baby was a boy (it’s not, thankfully) it would be named Tiberius. However, this is amusing even to me. Star Trek people are crazy. Just like potatoes.
A weird video of a man wearing a world-record-breaking 155 shirts circulated the web earlier this week. I was intrigued only because (a) I had never seen so many Big Dog shirts in my life and (b) who knew shirts even came that large. Phil Lenssen was so deliriously amused that he wrongly proclaimed that “the internet was invented to watch a guy score a world record for the most t-shirts worn at one time”.
Sorry, Phil, but that is blatantly untrue. Everyone knows the internet was made for stalking (others, as well as yourself). Don’t spread lies.
Matt Cutts discovered that savvy advertisers were bidding on his name for their PPC accounts, causing the “deviously” savvy Michael Graywolf to get in on the action himself. Nicely played, Michael.
The evilMatt Cutts blog gave disgruntled site owners a Google lullaby to help console them, or at least to coax them off the ledge, when their sites do a Google nosedive. If you listen closely, you can almost hear the millions of site owners woefully humming this song at this very moment.
Google must have heard Susan’s incessant crying (and my pleas to make her STOP) about wanting her very own pony. So, to appease her and help me regain my sanity, they finally gave her one. Praise be to God. [I named it Sparkles!–Susan]
Robert Scoble had a real life don’t-you-know-who-I-am moment when he was asked to sit outside after showing up to a country club lunch in jeans. This renders me into giggle fits (for many reasons). Who knew you could be denied access to a country club for being a geek? See, this is why we stay in dark basements.
Now, I like to think I’m a relatively bright individual (hush, Susan), but this still baffles me. It’s not real, right? Why are people (not Seth) talking about it like it is? I’m so confused. Wait – is it real? Is today Friday? My head hurts.
ISOS showed why you should never trust them with your proofreading. Meanwhile, ClickZ proves that just because you write an article about the proper spelling of the word “Email”, doesn’t mean you can’t misspell it (citing “editorial policy”) throughout the entire article. Funny stuff.
Lastly, today is October 6. That means there are just over three weeks left to get your Halloween costume in order. If you need help, give Costumzee a try. They have the scariest Michael Jackson face I have ever seen. Actually, no, this one is still scarier.
Tis the season, folks.