#oneaday, Day 222: I'm Right, You're Wrong

Having an argument is a great way to ruin an otherwise perfectly lovely day. The argument could be over anything. It could be over whether or not you think the latest changes that Facebook have made to their site are good or not. It could be whether or not you think raspberry ripple is the best flavour of ice-cream. It could be over whether or not you think the Pope is a massive douchebag. And, if it's on the Internet, it's probably over something utterly irrelevant and useless.

So here's a few steps on how to do it better.

Step 1: State your hypothesis

"PS3 sucks!"

Step 2: Offer convincing evidence for your hypothesis

"Because Xbox 360 rulez!"

Step 3: Offer a source for your evidence

"My mate Joe said so, too."

Step 4: Await response

"PS3 doesn't suck!"

Step 5: Respond to response

"Yes it does!" (Return to Step 4 until both sides have been made abundantly clear. This should take approximately 30 minutes, or five pages of forum posts.)

Step 6: Make up a statistic and quote it

"80% of people who tried both consoles said that PS3 sucks!"

Step 7: Await response

"Well I think Xbox 360 sucks!"

Step 8: Quote Nietzsche

"Admiration for a quality, art or rival games console can be so strong that it deters us from striving to possess it."

Step 9: Await response

"You're a douche, do you know that?"

Step 10: Respond to response

"Your face is a douche."

Step 11: Await response to response

"Your mom is a douche."

Step 12: Respond with nonsensical, illogical response

"That's not what she said last night."

Step 13: Await confusion

"What?"

Step 14: Take advantage of confusion

"So it's settled then!"

Step 15: Gloat

"I win. Douche."

And so it goes. One of the strange things about this always-connected, everyone-has-a-voice society is that everyone feels the need to have a contentious opinion on something. This happens (albeit not always to the degree described above) on all manner of topics, from the most irrelevant of fanboy conflicts to far-reaching opinions on matters such as racism. And no-one will ever back down, because there's always another website that "proves" their point, always another statistic from some made-up society somewhere.

It baffles me sometimes, because all this time that gets wasted arguing could be far better used enjoying both things that are being argued over. Of course, part of the issue in some cases revolves around people defending the camp they placed their flag in first. In many cases, people can't afford to buy both, say, a PS3 and a 360. So they stake their claim to one or the other and then justify their choice to anyone who will listen, and a bunch of people who won't also. That way, by branding the thing they haven't got "crap", they feel better about not owning it, even if they're secretly bitter that they can't make use of its exclusive features, software or delicious strawberry flavour.

Of course, some people are just asses and feel the need to disagree with everyone and everything. And those people are called assholes.

(If you're wondering about the inexplicable German in the cartoon above, you can blame both me and RothDog. Drawing nonsensical cartoons involving German stickmen arguing was always an excellent way to pass the time in tedious German lessons back at school. This strip is a recreation of the first ever one we drew.)

#oneaday, Day 221: Remember The Fallen Bloggers

It's with some sadness that we've said goodbye to several of my favourite #oneaday bloggers recently. No, they're not dead, thankfully, but various life circumstances have meant that it's no longer practical or desirable for them to fit daily blogging into their schedule. So a moment of silence, if you please, for Rhiarti and Chris Schilling. And after that moment of silence, a big round of applause for their hard, thankless, unpaid, voluntary work on the whole project up until this point. I hope you will continue to write, guys, because I've always enjoyed reading your work, whatever the subject, and whatever you might have thought of the quality of your posts.

Although nowhere near as many people—if any—will make it to the end of 365 days as started, I know that speaking personally I'm very pleased to have made the acquaintance of some amazing people through this whole business. And I'm sorry that there are still more whose work I didn't have a chance to enjoy while they were still involved, too.

I feel particular mention here should go to Andy "Ultrabrilliant" Kelly, who started the whole thing off and Lauren "Atheistium" Wainwright, whose tweet about the whole thing got me interested in the first place. While neither of them are still taking part, they're still active on Twitter and on their own blogs and doing proper worky stuff too, so do pay them a visit.

I've made it 221 days so far. That's quite a lot—over half a year, in fact. I'm pretty pleased with myself, but if anything I'm more determined than ever to make it to the end of this year. I nearly typed "unscathed" there, but those who have followed me from the beginning will know that I am anything but "unscathed" after the events of the last 18 months. Scathing is very much in attendance.

But those who have been following me for this period will also know that this whole process has provided an excellent sense of release. There have been times when I've wanted to say things that were stuck in my head, and this was as good a place as any to say them. And there have been other times when I've been able to channel that energy into something creative or "funny". Whether or not you've found my attempts at being humorous to be, well, humorous is beside the point, really. (No offence. Though obviously I appreciate it a great deal if you do enjoy things I've done.) It's given me the opportunity to try out all sorts of things and to find different ways to express myself.

You only have to look at the way the presentation of my blog has changed to see that. From pure text, to text with a quickly-located and vaguely relevant stock image, to clumsily-drawn cartoons that are shamelessly inspired by Allie Brosh's work on Hyperbole and a Half, to daily forays into Comic Life; I feel that the opportunity to experiment with and develop my craft has been a particularly valuable one.

And the self-discipline required in order to keep this going has been immense. As I wrote about yesterday, I feel this is a skill that I've partly learned from the things I enjoy. As "Don Woods" (*cough*) pointed out in the comments, though, perhaps it's an innate skill, also. I couldn't say. I know that this whole process has helped a lot, though.

So a huge thanks to everyone who's ever been involved with #oneaday, whether I've had the chance to speak with you directly or not. Thanks to those who inspired me to write something—anything—every day. Thanks to those who have read every single one of these entries (I know there's a couple of you at least). Thanks to those who comment. Thanks to those who lurk. Thanks to those who have clicked onto just a couple of these entries out of curiosity. Thanks to those who have helped me through the toughest time I've ever gone through in my whole life. Thanks to those who enjoy my stupid drawings. And you, reading this right now, too? Thanks to you, too.

Ah, that was disgustingly profound, wasn't it? Whatever. I mean it.

While you're on, pay the fellow Survivors a visit and support them. And if I've missed anyone out, please feel free to harangue me in the comments or on Twitter.

#oneaday, Day 218: I Love You, You Twat

Those of you who've been following me for a while will know that I have been known to make occasional forays into the virtual world of Second Life. For all its flaws and glaring technical errors and furry porn and flourishing sex industry, I always find it a genuinely fascinating experience from both social and creative angles.

I have one particular friend in that "other" world that I want to talk about today. We both started at around the same time, which means our avatars are both around the four year old mark right now. I've been rather more sporadic in my attendance than she has, but ever since we met we've shared a very close friendship which is pretty much unlike any of the other relationships I've cultivated in that particular world. She's one of those "constants" that you know you can always rely on. She's always been there, and has always offered a sympathetic ear when I've needed one.

We've also always shared a mutual love of insulting the crap out of each other. She admonishes me for my long absences and the fact I can type without mistakes at 85 words per minute. In response, I take great delight in drawing attention to her own typos, which have resulted in us inventing a number of our own words that anyone coming into our group is utterly bewildered by. I'm not even convinced we know what "furple" and "plinge" mean. But from the context, they are generally inclined to sound dirty.

Then we'll find something to argue about like children. Last night saw a particularly epic "am not, are too" battle that managed to impress everyone around us with our sheer tenacity. One of us will, at some point, accuse the other of being a pervert. The other will, in turn, bring up something from the past which lends incontrovertible evidence that no, they are in fact the pervert here. And so it goes on. For hours at a time, usually.

This is something that has always baffled me about friendship. At what stage do you make that mutual decision that it's okay to be incredibly rude to one another, especially in front of other people? It's one of those peculiar contradictions that seems to make perfect sense while you're engaged in it, yet is utter nonsense when you think about it. The common theory is that it's a sign you're so comfortable with one another you're happy to say absolutely anything to one another, because you know that you do genuinely care about each other. In the case of my friend and I, there's generally a bit of playing up for the crowd, too—they've come to expect it of us. When we're alone together, we'll generally talk normally and candidly.

I have a number of "real life" friends who are like this, too, so it's not just a case of the John Gabriel Internet Fuckwad Theory coming to life. Board game nights generally degenerate into smack talk and aspersions cast on pretty much everything it's possible to cast aspersions on. And yet somehow without disrupting the gameplay. (Much. Usually.)

I guess it's one of those social anomalies that we'll never truly understand. Still, it always keeps things entertaining.

With that in mind, thanks for reading, you complete bellend.

#oneaday, Day 213: Intensity

There's an old saying, isn't there, that claims if you lose the use of one of your senses, the others become much more acute. Having never been blinded, deafened or whatever the equivalent words for losing your senses of taste, smell or touch are, I can't speak for the truth of this. Although I did have a nasty cold one time that stopped me from being able to smell very much, though a good curry sorted that right out, just in time for me to be able to smell the musty flatulence caused by the not-inconsiderable amount of spices therein.

But there is one sphere where pretty much anyone can get a taste of what this is like. The Internet. When you're talking to someone on the Internet, you might not be able to see or hear them. You're certainly not touching them, smelling them or tasting them, unless there's some exciting new Skype-compatible technology you're all using that I haven't heard of yet. But regardless, friendships and relationships form, grow, break, explode, spread, all the things that real relationships and friendships do, in fact.

Except for the fact that the lack of "something"—be it sight, sound, smell, touch or taste—makes everything that much more intense. For many people, cultivating a friendship in "real life" is a drawn-out process that takes some time of getting to know each other, getting a feel for one another, understanding what makes each other tick and so on. This process still happens between people who have met online, but at a vastly accelerated rate. The very nature of communication on the Internet means that responses can be considered more carefully and, assuming you're an honest person, made more honest than you might feel able to be if you're sitting in front of someone, their piercing eyes gazing into your soul.

Of course, the opposite's also true. It's much, much easier to be a bastard and a liar thanks to the wonder of the Internet. And, in many cases, without consequences. Some people find this fun. But the emotion and the hurt it can cause is just as real as the feelings of friendship, affection, even love that can also be felt in these relationships between people who have never seen each other, in some cases.

On the whole, though, the opportunity to meet and talk to people from all over the world is something which should never be taken for granted, whatever form it comes in. Whether it's posting on a message board, writing an email, using Twitter, checking out someone's avatar in Second Life, raiding with guildies in WoW; without the Internet, there's no way that a whole bunch of these people would be in our lives. Old friendships would be lost and forgotten. New friendships might never be made. Soulmates might never find each other. And you wouldn't be able to read the deranged, 1:30am ramblings of someone such as myself.

Some might say the world would be a better place for that. But, y'know, I kinda like it this way.

#oneaday, Day 209: Coming Soon

Tomorrow night, The Squadron of Shame are back in action after something of a hiatus.

For those of you unfamiliar with our unique brand of discussion and podcastery, let me explain what it's all about, and when the new podcast hits, you'll be able to come and join the fun.

The Squadron of Shame started as a result of a feature on 1up Yours dubbed "The Pile of Shame". The term has since spread around the Internet somewhat, and it refers to all of the things that you've bought and never got around to reading, listening to or playing. In the case of the original 1up feature, it referred to that pile of games you have on your shelf that are begging to be played, but somehow inevitably get left behind whenever the latest triple-A hotness makes an appearance. The first game they took on was the excellent Psychonauts.

As it happened, the feature was somewhat short-lived on the 1up podcast. But a number of community members ran with the concept on the companion forums for the 1up "radio" output. We formed a club page on 1up which is still there, though largely inactive these days. We'd pick a game which was supposed to be good (or at least interesting), play it through as a group and discuss it all together. Some fascinating discussions resulted, and it also allowed many people to expose themselves to a variety of games which they might not have done otherwise. Games like Star Control II, Freespace 2, Call of Cthulhu: Dark Corners of the Earth and Psi-Ops.

As time moved on, the group wanted more. The merging of all the 1up boards into one mangled mess meant that the reasoned debate of the old threads was much more difficult. Topics would get derailed and it was clear that a new approach was needed.

Thus began the SquadCast, the Squadron of Shame's official podcast. Starting with independent rabbinical adventure game The Shivah, select members of the group banded together to do what they did best: play through a game together, then put their heads together and have a discussion about it. Ably hosted by the fine Mr Chris Whittington and edited/produced in a sort-of OKish manner by my good self, the show is now 29 episodes strong and has covered subjects as diverse as the Commodore 64, Russian FPS-adventure depress 'em up Pathologic and charming indie puzzler Machinarium.

Following circumstances beyond their control (mostly beyond my control, I admit) there's been something of a gap since our last episode. So we've thought that now is the time to take a break, consider how to make the show better and come back stronger than ever with some brand new output in a whole new format.

So, tomorrow we're recording. And next week we'll be proudly presenting The Squadron of Shame SquadCast, Season Two. Taking some of the advice we got from Jeff Green, Shawn Elliott, Ken Levine and some others who I've forgotten speaking on the Podcasting for PR panel at PAX East, we've made some changes.

The show's going to be bi-weekly. This means that rather than have variable gaps as everyone clamours to complete a "mission" before we talk about it, some regularity will allow us to build up a more, well, regular listenership.

Next up, it's going to have a static cast of host Chris Whittington, Mark Whiting, Jeff Parsons and myself with occasional guest spots available where appropriate. Jeff is in the process of composing us a brand new theme tune, too, so it's going to be a complete sonic reboot.

Most importantly, though, each episode is no longer going to be focused on a specific game. Instead, the focus will be on particular "topics", with occasional traditional "mission" podcasts interspersed as appropriate. This means that people will hopefully be more inclined to tune in regularly and hear what we have to say, rather than skipping episodes about games they have no interest in. As part of this, the official Squawkbox of the Squad will be playing a more prominent role, with community questions and discussions a regular occurrence. If you already have a WordPress account, you can head right over and start chatting with us. If not, it's simple to sign up. Everyone who's interested in discussing video games and who isn't afraid of the odd (all right, frequent) wall of text is very welcome to pay us a visit.

Besides the changes, it'll be our same wordy, intellectual, chin-stroking discussion about video games, representing one of the most unique podcasts on the Internet. We'd love it if you could join us for our relaunch. Visit the Squawkbox, follow us on Twitter, become a Fan… sorry, Like us on Facebook and find our past episodes and those of our sister podcast The Exploding Barrel Podcast here.

2010 is going to be a great year for the Squad. We hope you'll come along for the ride.

#oneaday, Day 206: Hello.

First up, please excuse me for just one moment.

AAAARRRRGHH!!
AAAAAGGGHHHH!!!
GRRRAAAARRR!!!
RAWWWRRR!!!

Thanks for bearing with that for a moment. It was deeply and completely necessary. Also, I had to reformat it so it didn't mess up the formatting of the page. Rawr.

Right. So, this post then. I thought I'd introduce myself. Why? Because my first ever post on this blog was a long time ago, and many things have changed since then. Also, due to various things that I'm not going to go into and rant about right now, I am still looking for work.

Particularly writing work.

I am a writer. That's what I do. First and foremost. More than anything. It is what I spend the vast majority of my days doing. I write this blog every day. I write news for the very awesome Kombo, staffed by some of the finest people I've ever had the good fortune to work with but not meet in many cases. I've written two articles for IGN. I've scribed a number of articles for utterly wonderful DRM-free digital-distribution site Good Old Games. I've submitted a bunch of stuff to BitMob, most of which was promoted to the front page as a "featured article". I've covered a variety of things for parental gaming advice site WhatTheyPlay. And I edit and produce the podcast for the Squadron of Shame, which will shortly be relaunching in a triumphant new format. I also set up the Squad's community site, the Squadron of Shame Squawkbox, which you're welcome to join. In fact, there's a big-ass list of most of the things I've done right here.

I have been semi-to-moderately prolific. And I love it. There's more stuff in the pipeline, too. Find out more as it happens.

So, using the power of Web 2.0, I'd like to ask a favour of anyone reading this.

Pimp me out. Share my stuff. Tell people how awesome I am. Point them at this blog, and the #oneaday project. Tell them about my stupid stickmen drawings. Show them my in-depth, opinionated news articles on Kombo which actually provoke discussion when I dare to mention Phantasy Star in anything less than positive terms. Dazzle them with my mad interviewing skills on my IGN articles about Crackdown 2, the first time I'd ever visited a developer.

'Cause I'd very much like this all to work out. Writing is awesome, and through it I've learned a lot about myself, met some fantastic and awesome people and joined a community of people who are as passionate about the things we love as I am. It may not always pay well (or indeed at all in many cases), but it's what I love to do. So if you can help me gain any exposure using your undoubtedly fabulous amounts of influence that you hold on the web—that's a really nice shirt, by the way—then I'd of course be eternally grateful and will buy you a bag of chocolate raisins or something.

In the meantime, a good friend (and Captain #oneaday), Mr Chris Schilling, has convinced me I should be pitching stuff around the place. So if you're a writer or involved in the publishing industry yourself and have any contacts you'd be willing and able to introduce me to, I'd very much appreciate that, too.

Shameless, I know. But whadyagunnado?

#oneaday, Day 199: Waving Goodbye

So, Google Wave is going bye-bye, huh? Can't say I'm particularly surprised. As cool an idea as it was, there just wasn't the buy-in from people that it deserved. Largely because a goodly proportion of the Internet population didn't seem to understand what it was actually for.

It's easy to assume people who didn't "get" Wave are just a bit slow. But the fact is, Google never did a great job of explaining what the technology was for in the first place.

"Yay, collaborative editing!" they'd say.

"Yay, we can do that with Google Docs!" everyone else would say.

"Yay, you can see people typing!" they'd say.

"Yay, who gives a shit?" everyone else would say.

"Yay, it's like a combination of email, Twitter and a word processing document!" they'd say.

"Yay, I've never wanted to combine those three things together!" everyone else would say.

It's a pity, as I've seen some genuinely interesting uses of Wave out there. One particularly cool Wave I was invited to took the form of a moderated "text adventure", where participants could direct the protagonist (played by the moderator in the role of an interactive fiction-style narrator) by inserting commands. Eventually, the non-linear nature of Wave allowed two parallel storylines to develop at once—one happening in the present, another as a flashback. Wave's ability for anyone to edit and insert new content at any point in the "conversation" meant that these two things could continue going on without becoming overly confusing.

Then there were all the possibilities for things like education. But then you have to deal with your average teacher's technophobia.

When I was working in schools, I had a grand idea that Wave could be used for the preparation of interactive resources. The fact that media such as YouTube videos, flash thingies, pictures, text, hyperlinks and even iFrames could be inserted meant that Wave could have been an ideal tool to use on interactive whiteboards during lessons, and also a good means of collaborative planning if teachers in question weren't able to meet and discuss things. As they frequently aren't.

As a result of many of these things, I had a Wave account which largely went unused because no-one else was using it. This is a shame, as I could see the potential in the service. But the fact the service was invite-only for so long, and then by the time it went public people were still scratching their heads and wondering what to do with it—these things meant that it didn't have a particularly "mass market" appeal for the average Internet user.

All is not lost for the moment, anyway. Wave is going to remain open—Google have just said they're stopping development on it. They've also open-sourced a goodly proportion of the code, so enterprising clever people with mathematics in their brains will be able to pull it apart and make it better, faster, stronger, I'm sure.

So it was a swing and a miss for Google on this one. To be honest, though, I think it's good to see them experimenting with different technologies as a company. It would be very easy for Google to just think "Right. We do these things. And we do them well. Let's just stop there and make bundles of money and stick them in our ears." But no; they seem to be on a constant quest to make the lives of the Internet's denizens better. Sometimes these things work. And sometimes they don't.

So raise a glass to Google Wave, the web app that couldn't. And start speculating on what they might be up to next!

#oneaday, Day 169: Wrong Again, Internet

If you've been on the Internet at all for the past couple of days, you've probably seen at least one person make the assertion that at some point in Back to the Future, Doc Brown sets the clock in the DeLorean to a date 25 years in the future. That date is supposedly today. Or possibly yesterday.

This rumor is a nice thought, so everyone has been retweeting it like crazy. Pity it's unlikely to be true, since the BTTF movies were set in 1985, 1955, 2015 and 1855. None of those are 25 years in the future from the film's original release date. The closest is 2015. But that's clearly 5 years away.

The interesting thing about this is how quickly it spread across the Internet without a shred of proof to back it up. No-one, at the time of writing, has posted a still from the film. Not even a bad Photoshop job. But somehow, everyone's just accepted this blindly.

I know that ultimately it doesn't really matter in this case, but isn't it a little scary that thousands, possibly millions of people across the world blindly stated this as fact without bothering to question it or research it?

Twitter is like a global game of Chinese Whispers sometimes. All it takes is one influential tweeter to post something contentious and the world will jump on it. Sometimes this is a good thing – the huge display of generosity from the public upon the death of Frank Sidebottom's creator Chris Sievey, for example, raising well over £20,000 for his funeral costs.

And sometimes this is a bad thing. How many times has Twitter been swept by false announcements of someone's death? It's a common joke now that any time someone's name comes up in the Trending Topics that they might have died.

What happens if something seriously untrue spreads this way though? Serious accusations about someone in high office? Reports of a disaster which never happened? Earth-shattering news which is just an outright lie?

It's an alarmist way of looking at things, of course. But the Internet has proved time and time again that it can make the most stupid shit into a star, or the most outlandish fact seem like reality.

So think before you RT, kids! Winners don't use Wikipedia!

#oneaday, Day 162: WTF?

Yesterday, my evening was brought to a screeching halt by the discovery of what happens if you go to Google, type in "2204355" and hit "I'm Feeling Lucky". (Hint: it's this.) This particular work of art is evidence of why the Internet is something that no-one will ever be able to understand. Thinking about that animation and trying to explain it is enough to make OMG HEAD ASPLODE.

Couple that with the fact that some people seem to be convinced that the number "2204355" has some sort of significance (a fact which I did some immensely frustrating and unfruitful research on today) and you've got yourself a proper mystery. Conspiracy theorists would say that the people who claim to know what "2204355" means but won't tell anyone really don't actually know and are just fucking with everyone. It's entirely possible. I've given up thinking about it and just taken to enjoying the dance and the music. CHIKKUN.

Of course, this isn't the first time that an inexplicable meme has swept the Internet. We've had this. And this. And this. Not to mention the many different cats who can do incredible things. And let's not forget the immortal Keyboard Cat, of course. Fatso may be long dead, but his legacy lives on to bring joy to millions.

Love them or hate them, internet memes like this are here to stay. They appear, explode in popularity virally, get overplayed and generally by the time parents or grandparents start emailing them to you as a .wmv file accompanied by size 18 Times New Roman type in bright pink, it's time to leave them alone again. But by then, something new will have appeared.

The thing that pops into my head every time I see something like this is "who came up with that… and how?" Who thought it would be a great idea to get a pixellated video of a black dude dancing and eating chicken and combine it with a hypnotic rainbow background and a chiptune version of the theme from A.L.F? Who realised that saying the words "badger" and "mushroom" over and over was inexplicably funny? Why combine a spinning leek with a Swedish folk song? Why are cats so awesome?

These are questions that will never be answered. But for every idiotic, ill-informed, racist, twattish, knobhead dicksplat that you come across on the Internet, remember, somewhere out there there's someone who will come up with one of these masterpieces of viral pop culture, whether it's through creativity, insanity or both.

Today, I salute those people. You make the world a better place and can brighten even the darkest of times.

#oneaday, Day 143: Formspring Durch Technik

I'm not sure what it is that appeals to me about question-based-sort-of-social-networking-web-2.0-nonsense Formspring, but I find it hugely addictive. I'm not the only one, either. High-profile online figures such as Leigh Alexander and Jeff Green seem to be having a blast with it, too, as are plenty of others.

The concept is simple. Anyone can ask you a question, either with their username attached or anonymously. Most people choose to ask anonymously. And it's actually more fun that way, because you then have the sort of metagame of working out who asked you what. And if you get a slightly questionable, err, question, it becomes all the more exciting to answer – was it one of your hairy male friends asking sarcastically, or was it asked by that hot chica you've got your eye on?

I think the most fun thing about it is that in coming up with creative answers to the very creative questions people come up with, you get the opportunity to talk about yourself. This is the very worst sort of narcissism that Web 2.0 brings out, of course, but it also gives you the opportunity to share things about your past, your personality, your hopes, your dreams, your tastes… all sorts of things that might not come up in conversation unless you blurted them out randomly like some sort of Fact-Tourette's sufferer.

A friend commented that the whole thing smacked of the sort of questions you get on dating sites. That's sometimes true, of course, but the difference here is that it all depends on what people choose to ask you. If people choose to ask you dating site-type questions, that's what'll happen. If people choose to ask you a series of increasingly-outrageous "what if?" scenarios, then that's what you'll get. Or in my case, you get a mixture of both until it becomes very confusing and you have no idea who asked what any more. Largely because for the most part you didn't know in the first place.

It's a service dependent on interaction, of course. If your friends are the sort of people who baulk at typing anything into text boxes, whether or not they have to bother signing up for a service beforehand, then you won't get much out of Formspring. If, however, you have creative friends who enjoy coming up with ridiculous things for you to answer, then you'll have a hell of a lot of fun with it. And your friends might even learn something about you that they didn't know before. You might even learn something about yourself that you didn't know before. Deep, huh?

If you want to ask me a stupid question, I have a list of the last few ones I've been asked somewhere to your right in the sidebar that you can click on to see my responses. Or you can just go here. You don't have to sign up for the site to take part, but if you do sign up then you get email notifications when someone asks you a question or when someone answers your question, whether or not it was anonymous.