Motivation Monday – Everyday is your chance to show people you can be Great (Rosa Parks Day)



Rosa Parks Day is an American holiday celebrated on February 4 or December 1 in honor of the civil rights leader Rosa Parks.

On December 1, 1955 after a long day of work Rosa Parks boarded a bus in Montgomery, Alabama. She took her seat in the ‘colored’ section, but as she road the Cleveland Avenue bus home, the bus began to fill.

The Montgomery city ordinance allowed bus drivers to assign seating, however it did not permit them to demand a passenger give up their seat. Despite this, bus drivers had customarily required black passengers to give up their seats to white passengers when the buses became full.

When Rosa Parks was asked to give up her seat, she refused. She was arrested and what followed is Civil Rights history. She was found guilty on December 5, 1955 of violating the city ordinance and fined $10 plus a court fee.

African American leaders, including E.D. Nixon and Martin Luther King, Jr., organized the Montgomery Bus Boycott for the day of Rosa Park’s trial. The boycott was a success and lasted several months, devastating the transportation system in Montgomery.

I would like to be remembered as a person who wanted to be free… so other people would be also free – Rosa Parks

Find out why you’re so Lazy? (Science is Awesome)


Poetry Mondays – Meta Me by Ryan Fu


When did the online

version of me

become better than

the real me.

There’s something wrong

with the world 

when people want to hang out 

via Skype.

Where we spend half our lives

looking at nugget porn


grumpy cats

watching untalented people

making a fool of themselves

to extend their 15 mins of whoring.

Don’t I have enough pixels,

aren’t I better than HD quality? 

Didn’t I receive enough 

likes on my page?

How many followers do you need

to be consider someone to like? 

Fuck your LEFT


RIGHT swipe

The Oracle was right 

we’re all trapped 

in cyber purgatory 

permanently signed on

for whole world to judge

as our footsteps gets traced,




without us even knowing


consenting to it.

Building a case

that the real you



      the virtual you 

is much better

because they can

     control you.




the real me

will disappear 

into Matrix

leaving behind 

my digital footprint


my Google searches

for Carrot Top.




Buy it on

Computer Security – How to protect your computer from Malware?

Dragon’s Philosophy – Always work on your Craft



The Modern Caveman by Christina B (BLW Contributor)



There continues to live a bit of caveman in us today, I think. The man of our house, for one, loves making a wood fire whether it’s in a fireplace or for a barbecue or simply for the sake of having a sociable ambience fire, and I love having a wood fire just as much. Staring into the flames of a cosy fire while time seems to stand still for a while is mesmerising, comforting, peaceful and very social. Nothing rushes us as we sit around a camp fire maybe with a glass of wine and life slows down for a while, bringing us back to nature and the people around us.  Television or mobile phones are superfluous, the company of the fire which has a life of its own and those around us are enough. It takes us back to a time where daily activities ended with last light and everyone would gather around the fire at night to share stories and life would slow down for a while.

The smell of a friendly wood fire triggers happy memories of sitting around a camel thorn wood camp fire whilst holidaying in Namibia, a hard wood that would burn slowly with its own particular magical smell. It’s something I’ve loved doing from my childhood days. Sometimes in Namibia in the middle of winter in freezing temperatures we sat around a camp fire at night but it was so bitterly cold that only the part of your body which faced the fire stayed warm. Every so often after you’d warmed your hands over the fire you’d have to turn around to warm your back because it would have got cold in the meantime, and so you’d continue to keep turning around every few minutes to try to keep warm. And no camp fire was complete without having toasted some sticky sweet marshmallows on sticks.

One of our camel thorn wood camp fires in Etosha, Namibia, on our last visit there

One of our camel thorn wood camp fires in Etosha, Namibia, on our last visit there

Where cavemen might have looked at the sun askance and murmured amongst each other over the weather, we now have weather apps predicting and forecasting what we can expect. We have weather stations telling us current, minimum and maximum temperatures and weather channels on TV with long-term forecasts. My husband loves weather stats, amongst others, and always updates us on the latest forecasts, especially when we’re away from home. The weather station goes along on holiday and gets moved around to different locations for different readings in an attempt to find the ideal location, such as under the front veranda of the tent or beside the tent in the shade.

Recently when we stayed at Donnelly River, an old mill village in the Southwest of Western Australia, in an old timber miller’s cottage we had the opportunity to enjoy some lovely wood fires again. Lying nestled in a little valley, the village gets colder than the surrounding area and with tall Karri trees that have grown to about 30 metres all around, the sun sets early and as soon as it does the temperature dips quickly. Our caveman was in his element when he was able to light us two fires every night – one in the fireplace and another in the old wood fired kitchen stove. Collecting the kindle and firewood supply of varying thickness was a daily activity with which Child No 3 was tasked to help dutifully every time, much the same as it would have been in years gone by and great was the joy – mine included – when the little timber cottage started heating up and in the early morning cold we’d try to warm our hands over the fire inside the old kitchen stove. We teased him over his unabated joy and pride in having made us the fires, true caveman style, but we enjoyed having those fires in equal measure.

The old wood fire kitchen stove

The old wood fired kitchen stove

The old wood fired kitchen stoveA trip away wouldn’t be complete without the weather station going along though, so we had accurate temperature data all along, but it was quite entertaining when we were very proudly told the actual stats of a 0.1°C temperature increase inside the cottage not long after the fire in the old kitchen stove got going and I realised that even though we love all the temperature gages and modern gadgets that our technological age provides, deep down there still lives a bit of caveman in us, which really makes us but modern cavemen and which will hopefully live on in years to come. It’s great to take a step back sometimes and appreciate things in life that really matter, albeit with the aid of some mod cons.

Check out other great articles from Christina B


Weekend Inspiration – You are not Alone



Happy Small Business Saturday!!! – Support local business stores around your community



Small Business Saturday is an American shopping holiday held on the Saturday after US Thanksgiving during one of the busiest shopping periods of the year

First observed on November 27, 2010, it is a counterpart to Black Friday and Cyber Monday, which feature big box retail and e-commerce stores respectively. By contrast, Small Business Saturday encourages holiday shoppers to patronize brick and mortar businesses that are small and local. Small Business Saturday is a registered trademark of American Express corporation.


In 2010 the holiday was conceived and promoted by American Express via a nationwide radio and television advertising campaign. That year Amex bought advertising inventory on Facebook, which it in turn gave to its small merchant account holders, and also gave rebates to new customers to promote the event.

American Express publicized the initiative using social media, advertising, and public relations. Many local politicians and small business groups in the United States issued proclamations concerning the campaign, which generated more than one million Facebook “like” registrations and nearly 30,000 tweets under the Twitter hashtags #smallbusinesssaturday and #smallbizsaturday

French Toast & Bacon Bombs Recipe




Vegetable oil for deep-frying

1 – can (16.3 oz) Pillsbury™ Grands!™ Flaky Layers refrigerated biscuits

1 – package (8 oz) cream cheese

8 – slices bacon, halved

Toothpicks or skewers

1/2 – cup cinnamon-sugar



  1. Heat oil in deep-fryer to 350°F.
Separate dough into 8 biscuits; split each into 2 rounds. Gently stretch out each biscuit half just a bit; add small scoop of cream cheese in center. Wrap dough around cream cheese; seal edges.
Wrap each stuffed biscuit with half slice of bacon; secure with toothpick.
  4. Fry bacon-wrapped stuffed biscuits in oil until puffed and golden brown on all sides.
While warm, toss evenly in cinnamon-sugar. If desired, serve with maple syrup.

Credit: Pillsbury

Photo Credit: Oh bite it

The Rebellious Typewriter by Ryan Fu




Sitting down on her tiny table top chair furiously banging on the keys on her cute old school turquoise typewriter, typing right in front of the Apple Store during a busy holiday season at the Grove. She was in her own universe creating her own world as she typed out poems on demand by people who gave her donations, but honestly I think she would have done it for free because it looked fun. After finding out the epic thing she was doing I was totally enamored by her. Plus, I wanted to check out her work maybe even writing a poem for me.

I wait patiently even though I was the only one waiting in line for her to create a poem for me. At the moment she was in the middle of finishing up a masterpiece for a nine-year-old girl. Her parents looked like artistic hipsters, who also thought what she was doing was cool as well. The tiny tot looked on as the bigger version of herself typed with a purpose occasionally missing up on a word and manually fixing it on the fly, which we all take for granted with Auto-Correct. We all forgot the simple pleasure of carefully typing in words but if you messed up, you really had to care a lot to correct your mistake but it made you into a better writer.

As I watch her being in the zone as the little girl danced around her and her turquoise machine, a crowd started to gather like a Sprinkles Cupcake store when they have giveaways but you don’t get sick of too much poetry maybe a little crazy but that’s a good thing. Some people looked puzzled at her prehistoric machine. Even workers from the Apple store where a bit confused on what she was typing on, making comments outside of the store like,

“What is that? Is that an old computer? Where is the screen?”

But then the comments became a little more abrasive as the employees showed off their Hater Degrees, telling each other that she shouldn’t be there, which did not faze her one bit. She continued on finishing the little girl’s poem even with the rude comments from the Apple employees.

When she finally finished her poem, she handed her completed piece to the toddler. The look on the little nine-year-old girl was simply priceless. She made her feel like it was Christmas morning and the parents were so happy giving the poet a generous donation. I couldn’t wait for my turn like a fat kid next in line at an ice cream truck on a hot summer day.

I confidently step up into her office as she asks me what she wanted me to create. She wanted hints or pointers on what the poem should be about. I tell her that I was in terrible mental and physical discomfort like a prisoner in solitaire from working at the Grove for then last thirty days. She gives me a smile from chin to chin as she could see the pain in my face but also knew that I had a good sense of humor. She confidently tells me to wait on the side giving her ten minutes to type it up.

I was simply amazed. 10 fucking minutes, it took me that long to type up a title!

It takes the poet prodigy ten minutes to create a poem? Now I was totally intrigued because what kind of art can you create in less than ten minutes or less. She takes a minute to digest what I said to her then she takes one last look at me then off to the races. She begins to get to work, systematically and carefully constructing my piece. But like everything else great in life, nothing lasts forever. Security finally notices her surrounding her in the middle of my poem. 

“Excuse me miss but you have to leave,” as security kindly tells her.

Without lifting her head, “Sure, but tell me why,” continuing to finish my poem.

“Ugh, I’m not sure miss but you have to go.”

“No, that’s not a good reason,” she calmly tells the security guard making him look at the other security guard for support but he just shrugged his shoulder. 

I couldn’t believe what was happening. She was so feisty and rebellious towards authority like revolutionary poets of old not giving one fuck for anyone’s opinions except for their. Before the security calls his manager she tells him she was done, “I’m finished. I’ll leave now,” handing me my poem, which by the way she completed a little over ten minutes.


I handle it like an ancient piece of artifact making sure I didn’t smudge or bend it. She quickly wraps up her operation before attracting any more heat to her picking up her typewriter and folding her chair. I was so excited that I get my poem, which I didn’t even get a chance to read it. I was like just a happy kid and I was simply amazed how she continued to do what she loved to do in the midst of so many haters. I graciously thanked her and gave her a generous donation.

She gathers her things proceeding to leave to the Grove not because of the security telling her to do so but own her terms because she already made her point. That you can’t stop art or control it, you just have to let it be.

You can make art anywhere you want to with any kind of device, just make you sure you have passion for it and don’t give a fuck what people think because any good artists will tell you that you must have a bit of rebellious nature if you’re going to be a great artists because you’re pissing off the status quo.

Good art is a little dangerous because it can evoke emotions, which sometimes is not all positive but at least it makes you feel something for it. Art is supposed to make you feel alive making you forget the mundane motions of your life. Great artists add the beautiful bright colors to this dull grey world making us believe that we can do and imagine anything that we want to be in our lives.

Sometimes we have to act like rebellious typewriters in a world dominated by obedient computers.




Buy it on