The Boston Diaries

The ongoing saga of a programmer who doesn't live in Boston, nor does he even like Boston, but yet named his weblog/journal “The Boston Diaries.”

Go figure.

Monday, February 16, 2004

The Sean Conner(y) Fan Club

From: "XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX" <XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX>
To: <sean@conman.org>
Subject: Fan
Date: Mon, 16 Feb 2004 11:12:09 +0100

Hi! My name is XXXXX I'm XX and I'm your fan Sean .I watch all your movies since when I was child, you are so charmous and elegant.I will be happy if you send me a email with photos. I'm brasilian but I live in XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX for a litle time I LOVE YOU !

Sean, I LOVE YOU so much, so much.......
Kissssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssss

I wait you......

I was always surprised at how few people ever made the connection between my name, Sean Conner, and that of the only true James Bond, Sean Connery (and even more so, how many people misspell my first name, given that S-E-A-N Connery is so well known). I suppose that missing “y” is enough to throw the connection off and thus, about one stranger a year (if that) will make the connection.

Looks like I have this year's connection; seems that a woman just sent me email thinking I'm Sean Connery! Even weirder is that I won't come up for a search for Sean Connery, and I'm not even the first result on on my own name! Oh … hold on … yes, I am first for a Google search from where she currently lives (somewhere in Europe).

Well, that's assuming she even used Google—I think there are other search engines out there, but don't quote me on that.

Whoa!

She even sent pictures!

Gee … I hate to break it to her that I'm not Sean Connery … it definitely took some guts to not only send an email, but to include the pictures as well (not that there's anything revealing in them). Who knows, maybe the next time she's in Lower Sheol here we can get together for coffee and have a laugh over this.


Just another surreal day at the Facility in the Middle of Nowhere

I was getting a bit worried about The Bee Situation. When last left off, the exterminator said he'd be back on Monday and when I called his office in the afternoon there was no indication that he would be by. I ended up calling twice before I got a call back from the technician (as the office called him).

He was on his way, along with his supervisor (!) and would be here at the Facility in the Middle of Nowhere any minute.

About half an hour later I hear a knock on the door. Standing there were the exterminator and his supervisor, both wearing bee suits and carrying equipment. I led them upstairs into the Master Bedroom and left them to do their work.

Over the next half hour or so I could hear various loud noises coming from upstairs, then followed by a few minutes of silence. Then the exterminator comes downstairs, asking if I had my camera ready. I had mentioned the other day that I wanted to get pictures of the resulting hive and now I had my chance.

[Apis mellifera Warriors] [The Honey Factory in the Wall] [The Hive in the Wall] [The Hive Situation in Hand]

Quite impressive, given that the bees had only been there for maybe a month or so. I asked if bees really could build hives that fast and the supervisor said yes—he then said that he recently removed a 200 pound (!) hive that took about two to three months for the bees to construct. As hives go, this appears to have been a rather small one—there appeared to be only two large combs plus some smaller ones.

Before sealing the holes with the old drywall and duct tape (they're exterminators, not carpenters) the supervisor set off a bug bumb in the large cavity, to ensure no bee survives. Now all that's left is getting The Office (the rental office that is) to send a crew out to repair the walls.

It could have been worse.

I was talking to Hoade, telling him of the Bee Situation, when he related a tale that happened to one of his ex-girlfriends. Seems when his ex was still living at home, a hive had set up shop in their walls. A rather large hive. We're talking tens of thousands of bees. The exterminator they called apparently thought that just plugging up the hole they used would effectively handle the situation.

That is, if you don't mind having tens of thousands of bees slowly dying in the walls.

Anyway, the bees didn't think much of slowly dying in the walls, so they found another way “outside” which involved going through the “inside” of the “house.” And once found, the tens of thousands of bees did much rejoice, since they swarmed out of their newly found exit “outside” and the mother managed to get a way with only a few hundred stings.

So yeah, I'm glad the Bee Situation wasn't as bad as it could have been.

Very glad.

Obligatory Picture

An abstract representation of where you're coming from]

Obligatory Contact Info

Obligatory Feeds

Obligatory Links

Obligatory Miscellaneous

Obligatory AI Disclaimer

No AI was used in the making of this site, unless otherwise noted.

You have my permission to link freely to any entry here. Go ahead, I won't bite. I promise.

The dates are the permanent links to that day's entries (or entry, if there is only one entry). The titles are the permanent links to that entry only. The format for the links are simple: Start with the base link for this site: https://boston.conman.org/, then add the date you are interested in, say 2000/08/01, so that would make the final URL:

https://boston.conman.org/2000/08/01

You can also specify the entire month by leaving off the day portion. You can even select an arbitrary portion of time.

You may also note subtle shading of the links and that's intentional: the “closer” the link is (relative to the page) the “brighter” it appears. It's an experiment in using color shading to denote the distance a link is from here. If you don't notice it, don't worry; it's not all that important.

It is assumed that every brand name, slogan, corporate name, symbol, design element, et cetera mentioned in these pages is a protected and/or trademarked entity, the sole property of its owner(s), and acknowledgement of this status is implied.

Copyright © 1999-2024 by Sean Conner. All Rights Reserved.