POSTS WITH TAG: internet

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    About a year ago I wrote a mother-in-law-nup (MIL-nup), so that one could comfortably hand their sweet boy over to some son-stealing Jezebel. Clearly, I'm still bitter, but it made me realize that there should be "nups" for lots of things.

    Like email and social networking. I'm not talking about the spammers who seem quite certain I have a small penis, I'm lonely, I could use Prozac and Cialis, and I should get said drugs from Canada.

    No, I can forgive the Internets, but what I cannot forgive is the annoying emails and Facebook requests from my supposed friends and family. You guys are on shaky ground, which is why I've written this "e-nup," and I say everyone signs!

    I hereby decree that:

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    Facebook recently announced some changes that will allow you to do more with your account. Not surprisingly, this new feature, called Social Graph Search, is a little scary. Here's what's up.

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    Philippe's ResumeIt's hard to be original when trying to get a job these days. It seems like every good idea has been taken, along with some, um, not so good ideas. But Philippe Dubost managed to do the seemingly impossible and set himself apart from the rest of the employment-seeking pack by creating what could be the best resume ever. Dubost, a web product manager, created an imitation Amazon page for himself, replete with customer ratings; an "add to cart" button (which leads you to his contact info); and a "Only 1 left in stock -- order soon" notification. It's genius. And there's no way this guy isn't getting a million job offers. 

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    Three people sent this new Internet Explorer commercial to me before 10 a.m. and now it's my turn to share. Calling it a commercial seems inadequate, though -- it's more like a warm hug from an old elementary school friend with whom you used to trade fuzzies, Gushers, and Pogs and fight over the Joystick with while playing Oregon Trail in the computer lab. Simply and eternally, this is the best form of marketing I've ever seen, and if you're also a child of the '90s, I guarantee you'll feel the same way.

    In this 80-second ad, you'll yearn for the days before cellphones, Facebook, Instagram, and the Internet in general ... and if you're anything like me, you might tear up, just a little, because dammit, life was simpler in the '90s, and it was awesome.

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    You don't need a PhD in, I dunno, anything to know that the Internet is all smoke and mirrors. Very rarely do people -- be they Facebookers or bloggers or commenters -- let the cyberworld in on their "real self." As far as everyone knows, anyone who posts anything on the web is amazingly happy, has the perfect life, and of course, is gorgeous.

    With Instagram and Hipstamatic filters -- and the perfect lighting and angle -- pretty much anyone can look like Megan Fox online. Or, really good, at least. I mean, think about it: When was the last time you saw somebody post an "ugly" picture of themselves on the Internet? Probably never, because who would want to do that?

    Turns out, some people would. And did. And they're hot girls! Behold: "Pretty Girls Making Ugly Faces."

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  • 24 +SHARE

    It is a high tech world. I love it and I don’t know how we survived before everyone had access to cells phones and the Internet. Honestly, if you tried to take either away from me today, I’d probably fight you to the death and you’d still have to pry my iPhone out of my cold dead hands.

    As we advance technologically, it's becoming the norm to see toddler and certainly elementary school aged children on laptops, iPods, iPads, iPhones and the internet, usually playing educational games or watching cartoons so that their parents can keep them occupied. I have no problem with this. Our girls have DS’s and now they have Nabi tablets , MP3 players and we own every educational game system available since the girls were toddlers. They do homework on the laptop and know their way around technology ... like every other kid we know.

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    The infamous dress. It's happened to all of us. We're standing in our room in nothing but a black, strapless bra when we decide we want to put some of our old clothes up for sale on eBay. So we start taking pictures of our shit, not bothering to get dressed, because, duh, we're alone in our room. And then we post the photos of our clothes to eBay, because, duh, anyone who's selling something online without a photo is nuts. And then some person in search of a yellow dress realizes: "Wait a-- What the-- There's a naked woman in the mirror's reflection of this photo!"

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    There's a lot of controversy over kids being allowed on social media sites and whether parents should  let them on despite age limits. There are strong arguments on both sides, but this story is a pretty good one in favor of kids on Facebook.

    Clifford Boyson, 66, of Davenport, Iowa, hadn't seen his sister, Betty Billadeau,70, in 65 years. As children in Chicago they were placed in separate foster homes, and never saw each other after that despite years of searching for one another. They may have never seen each other again either, if it weren't for the kind heart and mad Internet skills of Boyson's 7-year-old neighbor, Eddie Hanzelin.

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    The Truth About Work-at-Home Moms

    posted by Deborah Cruz January 11 at 9:07 PM in Big Kid
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    There are so many misconceptions about moms these days. If you stay-at-home or if you work-out-of-the-home, or even if you work-at-home, you are still judged. You just can’t win. Unfortunately, work-from-home or stay-at-home, if you are home for any reason at all, you are sitting around eating bonbons all day, right?

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    I was getting ready to go out on New Year's Eve, a night I think we can all agree warrants a little more bling than the other 364 days of the year, when my 8-year-old daughter walked into my closet.

    "Mommy, you look snazzy!"

    "Snazzy, huh? That's a good word. I feel snazzy."

    G-d, that kid is cute, I thought to myself, as I slipped on my snazzy stilettos.

    "Yeah, Mom, you look like a hooker!"

    Here's where you should insert the sound effect of a record being scratched to a halt, in the middle of a beautiful ballad.

    "I'm sorry, what?"

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