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Technorati is indexing me again! They had to make a code change to fix the problem with my blog getting stuck in their queue. Kudos to Eric M. and the guys at GetSatisfaction.com where they have "community powered support for Technorati".
Well, they're "sorta, kinda" indexing me anyway. It's on a 24 hour tape delay or something. So I never get picked up by Memeorandum because they pull from Technorati and Technorati has stuff I posted yesterday listed as my latest blog entry. And that's old news to Memeorandum.
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#VRWC Twitter feed:
OK, show of hands. Who's got a friend crazy enough to sign up for the NYC Marathon? I do!, I do! That's right, my buddy Andrew is training for this year's NYC Marathon. And, he's gonna blog about the whole experience.
I know you guys will like his blog. Why? Because the boy can write, that's why. To us Andrew is "The Commish," head honcho of our neighborhood football pool, and commentator extraordinaire. His weekly recap emails are chock full of biting insights, bad puns, and bodacious banter.
Oh, and Liz Hurley. Andrew's got a thing for Liz Hurley. And sadly, after about the 7th mile (or more likely during football season, his 7th beer) he's convinced she's got a thing for him too.
Then he fires up the keyboard and taunts us with emails she "sent" him:
Baby cakes! Bloody fantastic running last week, honey pie. You ran like you were being chased by my husband's security team. I'm not saying you weren't, love, so it's probably a good thing. . . Best looking legs in the marathon, b-cakes. XOXO. . . Liz. . .
See what I mean? All that pavement-pounding has made him shaken, not stirred, if you get my drift. Luckily his wife is a very understanding gal. One time I overheard her say, "Did Liz tell you to take out the trash? 'Cause it's time to take out the trash." To which he replied, "Yes dear." Liz tells him everything!
So be sure to bookmark I Am Runnin' Wild in NJ where the hills are never steep, the Wheaties™ get airdropped in, and the songs in his head hardly ever repeat. The voices in his head? That's a whole 'nother story…
Run, Forrest, Run!
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