There comes a time when we move from doing something because it’s fun and exciting to actually having to make some money with it. We all remember the joy of walking the DOM for the first time, challenging the first-child to a match of borders, or even playing peek-a-boo with our precious little title attribute. But when does that playful joy turn into a realization that money sits behind them there divs?
Looking back fondly
Several of the standardistas out there have been sharing their joyful memories of their ventures into the big ol’ world of moolah with nary but a Dreamweaver on their back. Great advice is out there for the pickins. Sure there’s a mixture of demanding bosses, forever late paycheques, and brain-dead art directors. But ah….the glory of it all.
Yes, my dear… there is a big world of hacks out there for you to climb. Grab a friend and start climbing, for soon enough you will be on top and have the opportunity to reach down and pull someone else out of the valley of the table-goo. Ask questions and begin providing answers. Maybe next year, you will be the star on top of the standardista chrismahanakwanza tree.
You can’t split up a good pair. Not even in bowling.
It’s official. My partner in crime will be joining me at Yahoo! next month. Brian Rountree, the guy that shoved an orange book in my face a couple years ago and said…”just read.” And I did read. And I went from zero to fabulous faster than Paris Hilton goes through sidekicks.
We’ve done museums, travel insurance, more museums, and the defense industry.
Now we will be working on creating a super-cool new Yahoo! project that is still super-top secret. Well, maybe not that super-top secret, I wouldn’t have to kill you if I told you. Just wait a few months or so and you’ll know.
Oh and yes mom, I’m the butch one… I’ve always wanted to say that.
My friend Durward and I got into a mild discussion of today’s Dooce post. There’s no way that I can follow up this summary by the Durdster:
Ted, I can say this with all honesty: you are the only person I know who takes great pride in his farting. I don’t think it’s an art, but I think you have elevated farting to a craft, and a mighty subtle one at that. You are a Fart Maestro Extraordinaire or Primo Farter Absoluto. I know no one that can singe nose hair like you. If only you could use your talents for the forces of good…
And you know, if you gave Jim a Dutch oven and he passed away from your passing gas you could be tried and probably found guilty for voluntary manslaughter.
It’s a good thing my friends and family never read this web site. If they did, they may get inspired by the Torture Ted Christmas shopping list.
