iThinkit’stoobig

So, in techno news, Apple today launched a few new devices during the autumn address that we’ve all become accustomed to.  I haven’t really taken the time to read up on the launch event, but scanning the photos in the BBC website news report, one thing really struck me:

The iPhone 6 and iPhone 6 Plus are huge.  Now, I know I’ve always taken the piss out of the size of Samsung’s handsets, particularly the Samsung Galaxy Note, but these new iPhones are ridiculous.

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Just look at them!  

Today’s event also heralded the launch of the much-anticipated Apple Watch.  I do admit to having very small wrists, but come on, this is just silly.

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Steve Jobbies will be rolling in his grave.

Apple’s divergence from Jobs’ insistence that the iPhone should be navigable with one hand sounds the death knell of my love affair with this particular shiny thing that made it all better. I struggle enough with the 5s, there’s no way I want to be one of those spazzes who has to hold their phone in one hand while prodding the screen with the stabby index finger of the other, assisted in their obvious concentration by having their tongues sticking out.  With their specs propped on their foreheads. No.  Just no.

But what’s the alternative? What happened to the days when the tech companies worked on compact designs that fitted on the pocket?  Samsung happened, they fucking ruined everything.  Morons.

 

Super moon

It’s the harvest full moon tonight.  I do love this; only a crazy person wouldn’t.IMG_1624

 

 

Beep beep boop

There are certain things that happen when you’re using technology that makes you go ooh, look at that.  On certain occasions, Google’s search page picture of the day can make the news.  Not today though, it’s just boring old Google search. These are things that add absolutely no functionality to the application or device that you’re using, but they make the user interface a little nicer, usually while you’re waiting for something to happen.

People who use WordPress online will be familiar with this:

Beep beep boop

It pops up for a few seconds while a new post is launching.  You have NO IDEA how quick I had to be with my CMD+SHIFT+4 selection to get that screen grab.  Quickasaflash, that’s me.

Things have come a long way since the early egg timers of Windows, whichever it was I started out on – the one that was out around 1989? Windows 3.0?

eggtimer-192x192

That might be from a Mac, but I remember the absolute thrill of Windows 95 and the arrival of: ANIMATED HOURGLASS

Unknown

Not only was it colour, it spun around and the grains of sand moved in the icon.  So many man hours must have gone into the creation of this single element of the whole desktop experience.  And you could customise the whole thing.

images

It never ceased to amaze me that people didn’t invest that two minutes of their time to do this and to make their desktop beautiful (as much as Windows 95 would allow).  Oh. My. Fucking. God. [I never spoke like that back then] What was wrong with these people that they didn’t change from the default background?  And why didn’t they alter the screen resolution so everything wasn’t so fucking MASSIVE? These were really options that suddenly came available to us and people just ignored it.

Can’t

Use

New

Technology

Still

These days, our devices and desktops still have ways of telling us that they’re fannying around, unable to cope with, oh, I don’t know, being just as slow as they ever were when you really need them to do something right away.  We get aero themed timers, or other flash things that spin around to calm us, to placate us, to reassure is that our software really is trying and not to throw our smartphone or PC out of a first floor window.

Screen Shot 2014-08-08 at 20.57.55 Awww, the spinny thing in different contrast make it all better.  No shouty hypnosis.

images-1 Aero thing whizzy round, take my mind off killings.

Bouncing iMac desktop icons

One thing that Mac users, and I am one, and yes I’m also a fucking hypocrite, in fact, my anti-Apple rants are so numerous that I can’t even link to them, but there are examples herehereherehere and here.  Anyway… one thing that Mac users encounter, along with a file system that you can’t customise, beautiful design, the loveliest clicky keyboard, super mouse and all round “ooh, you got a Mac” factor, is… the bouncing desktop icons in the dock.

This is what my dock looks like.

Screen Shot 2014-08-08 at 22.16.10

It needs tidying up.  It’s the thing on the desktop that gives you immediate access to all the applications that you use most frequently.  It’s not a bad concept.  Whoever at Apple was in charge of this, whoever it was who decided that it would be a good idea for dock items to bounce when an app needed your attention, that person needs to die… on fire.

Why even do that? When you start your computer, you generally want to get going pretty quickly, you want to concentrate on doing what you need to do.  You do not want to be distracted by the fucking Spotify icon bouncing because, fuck knows why, it just does, every bloody time!  It’s just the way things are designed, if an app needs your attention, it bounces.

There’s a sound effect that goes with it too.

The person who designed this is Animated Hourglass’s doppelgänger.  Some evil little fucktard who just has to take desktop aesthetics that little bit too far.  Skeuomorphism is dead… nearly dead, but this shit lives on.  It’s almost as bad as these fuckers:

Windows helpUnknown

Now confined to the dustbin of time, they will haunt office workers’ nightmares for the rest of their lives.

Geek chique

I saw a man walking down the street the other day.  He looked fairly ordinary.  He was wearing normal clothes: jeans, shoes, t-shirt.  On the front of the t-shirt, in white lettering, was the word “Geek”.

Would a geek wear such a thing?  Would a geek even be out in broad daylight? Wouldn’t they be indoors, doing indoors things with technology? Or on an internet forum or something?

Over the past five years or so, it’s become quite trendy to be a bit geeky.  Girls wear big glasses… I wear big glasses. I say it’s trendy to be a bit geeky, it’s trendy to look geeky.  If any normal person came across a high-up-the-aspergers scale, into gaming and comics, background in science and technology, obsessive-compulsive real geek, they still might make fun of them, or find them odd, or find it difficult to make conversation with them.  But conversely, who with any ounce of intelligence want to try to drag out some tedious conversation about shit new music and whatever else real people talk about these days.  Hashtag GBBO.

Otto

Otto is staying with me for a fortnight.  Rocky is extremely jealous.  He can’t stand anything or anybody else getting my attention.

The little cat has had enough of being sniffed and is currently hiding at the bottom of my walk-in wardrobe, lying on top of my shoes.  Some things never change, but at least he’s kicked his ketamine habit.

Otto's lost mind

Ooops

I should remember to keep things simple.  The only bits I know about technology are through trial and error and through having somebody on hand to repair the damage when I mess things up.  In the absence of my sorely-missed 24hr tech support guru, I should know not to mess.

I messed.

I fucked up the old blog (you can try the link, but I assure you, it’s fucked).

Ah well.

But fuck.  FUCK!  BIG, MASSIVE FUCK!

Why do I have to mess?  What can’t I be one of these people who lives within the limits of their intellectual capabilities, one who knows to leave well alone?

Because I’m a dick.

Anyway (;@) what’s done is done.  Move on.

Twitter
I’ve been trying twitter this week.  I don’t get it. Admittedly, I’ve been contributing to this blog for years now, but I didn’t start out with any expectation that anybody would read it.  People did, and it was flattering when folk left comments, and fun when people from Stornoway started arguments with me in their funny little illiterate Bebo-esque way, but I always write things here as a bit of fun; it gives me the opportunity to digest my thoughts and reflect on my experiences instead of reacting and going on the rampage.

But Twitter?  It’s for people who expect an audience – like a text message to the world in the expectation that all who care to know the most mundane things about our existence, like where we are on the Bristol Stool Form Guide on any particular day.

It’s not that different to this I suppose, only for the illiterate.  And I just don’t get it.

Christmas
Christmas approaches, it has been doing for the past six weeks I suppose, but the TV adverts are telling us to panic buy in readiness for the supermarkets being closed for two days RIGHT NOW!  This year, I’m going to be enjoying the true spirit of the season – time with loved ones and family being highest on my priority list.  This is mainly because I’m skint and I can’t afford to buy any presents, but I don’t expect to receive any either.

The thorny issue of where I’m spending Christmas has already been resolved, and I’m happy that the solution doesn’t involve me eating two Christmas dinners, but I do get to wake up on Christmas morning with my beautiful girlfriend.

Compromise is something you only need between the ages of 15 and 80 – outside these limits and you’re justified in telling everyone else to go fuck ’emselves.

The future’s… shouty

For a few weeks, I’ve been ignoring telephone calls to my mobile phone that are from numbers that I don’t recognise.  In fact, I always ignore calls in this way. That’s the rule, surely everybody knows this: don’t answer if you don’t know the number; don’t answer if the number is blocked.  They’ll leave a message if it’s important and I can get back to them.

Unknown numbers can mean a few things:

  • Contacts who never made to your new phone’s address book when you changed, simply because you NEVER call or text them;
  • People who have, quite rightly, been removed from your contacts because they are totally fucking insane and you don’t want to accidentally contact them, even if they’re the last person available and a an axe murderer is coming after you (let’s face it, they’re likely to be the axe murderer)
  • People trying to sell you things
  • People trying to make you take “just a few minutes” to do a survey that takes 40 minutes
  • Wrong numbers still trying to get hold of “Sexpot” because they’re in Bulford again next week and would still love to catch up
  • People from Warwick Alumni fund wanting to know if you want to donate £50 a month?????? Planet? On? Which one?

Anyway, my reasons for never answering calls where I don’t recognise the number have just been vindicated – for the millionth time.  It was a nice young man from Ulster tonight, speaking “veryquicklyaboutOrangebecauseI’mavaluedcustimerwho’sbeenwiththemyears”, so it was.

“Do you have broadband?”

“Yes. I have cable broadband with Virgin.”

“Oh,” this was the WRONG thing to say to a person trying to sell mobile broadband, apparently. “Do you still have a BT telephone line?”

“No, I refuse to have anything to do with BT.”

“I take it you have a laptop?”

“Oh yes, of course.”

“Wouldn’t it be great to have internet access wherever you went with your laptop?”

“I already do, from my wireless broadband at home.  I don’t take my laptop with me anywhere other than places that have wi-fi.”

“What about when you’re out and about though, wouldn’t mobile broadband through a dongle be great?  We’ve got a great offer for a 1GB dongle for a tenner a month; 3GB for £15.”

“No, not really.  My laptop is too heavy to carry around with me and I have an iPhone, which gives me 3G broadband when I’m out and about and free access to BT Openzone wi-fi.”

“Well, let’s just check out the coverage for your location. What’s your postcode there?”

He must’ve forgotten that I have 10 meg broadband with Virgin.  Why is he doing this?

“Actually, my 3G phone coverage is actually really patchy here,” I interjected.

“Great, looking at this, the 3G coverage is really good where you are.”

“It isn’t, I can assure you.”

“So, that’d be a 10GB dongle for just £25 a month then, we can do everything for you now, it’ll only take a few minutes.”

“But I don’t need it, I have my [insert smart phone name here] iPhone when I’m out and about and I don’t carry my laptop around with me.  It’s not something that I’m looking for right now.  Thank you.”

Why don’t these people listen?  Why can’t they see that you have no need for the services they’re peddling and move onto their next call, that might be more productive?  Perhaps they just like talking to me.  That must be it.

But the good thing about being trapped in phone conversation is that it always gets your bowels moving and I had a lovely poo straight after the call.

Toady holes
I’ve become an expert at batter-based cooking since I started going out with Ali. Or have I? I can do pancakes and I can do toad in the hole, I am far from being an expert in light tempura, or even a banana fritter. But anyway, I have discovered that toad in the hole is a really easy dish to make. And Hallelujah for that! With excellent sausages in regular supply, it’s so easy to whip up a batter get everything cooking away in the oven.

I had toad in the hole for tea tonight. It was very filling. I feel slightly sick.

Valderee
I’m going to get into walking more. Proper walking, with maps and GPS systems and arguments. We went on a walk up in Lancashire at the weekend. We dressed inappropriately for the weather, thinking it would be much warmer than the 3°C high that met us up in witch country. Still, it was really enjoyable and I learned a few things:

  • The little dog can’t do step stiles
  • The little dog can’t do cattle grids
  • The little dog can’t cope with sheep
  • The little dog can’t cope with bogs
  • The little dog likes eating sheep poo
  • “Access land” does NOT mean “footpath” – merely that you won’t get shot for walking on  it.
  • A 4.5 mile walk takes MUCH longer than an hour when you have to negotiate bogs, hills, stiles, and all these in combination with the little dog.
  • Take a torch, knife, extra clothing, distress flare… just in case.

Anyway, it was lovely and I look forward to doing more.  Here are some photos:

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River Hodder at Dunsop Bridge

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Rocky down a rabbit hole

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I think they call this a “clough”

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The lack of greenness indicates that the area’s been covered with snow for some time until recently

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Ali with Rocky

Working from home

I’m actually supposed to be doing a bit of work this evening, but I’m waiting for Office to install before I can get started.  Installing software takes forever and it’s hard to draw an analogy to the painstaking task of, firstly, identifying what programmes you used to have that allowed smooth computer usage, then sourcing the installation files so you can get them back on your PC.

This bloody dog of mine drives me to distraction.

Anyway, after flattening my machine last night and reinstalling Windows, I’m now faced with reinstalling everything that got wiped.  It’s the little things that you don’t realise you’re really going to need again that make a lot of difference.  Display driver?  What do I need one of those for?? Canon RAW codec?  Surely that’s for losers!  Perhaps this sort of ordeal is similar to what it must be like when you come out of a coma and try to recover from a brain injury: some bits are missing, but you don’t quite know which ones until you find yourself running down the high street with your nightie over your head.

Or is that Susan Boyle?

So yes, working from home!  I feel energised and enthusiastic… and scared in case I fuck this up.  With a major deadline approaching, this “draft” will have to be a “final”, but hey, it’s only worth £200k… and my job for the next six months.

Microsoft Office 2007 has been successfully installed

Great.

That means that I have to get cracking… and now my energy levels are plummeting with every keystroke.  Of course, this sort of thing is ideally suited to my personality type (ISTJ, if you must know).  A few years ago, I blogged about doing a Myers-Briggs survey to determine whether I had Asperger’s syndrome, or whether I was one of the unfortunate ones to be normal, but to have a personality type that makes them appear to have a personality disorder.  For some reason, I was surprised to find that I still have the same personality type today as I did five years ago.  You can read up all the shite about the sixteen Myers-Briggs types, but this is me in a nutshell:

  • I deal in facts, figures and reality – don’t ask me to imagine things, or believe in anything unless there is evidence for it
  • I am a doer (yeah, right), but more of a finisher than a starter
  • Don’t expect me to write any strategies for anything, but I can implement whatever somebody else comes up with
  • I can’t do anything without a plan and real objectives
  • DO NOT BE FUCKING LATE OR I WILL KILL YOU!

So that’s about it.  The little dog has curled up in his bed, so I’ll take this brief mither-free window to start what I was supposed to be doing.

And then you saw me… get distracted with something else.

Put that away

What do these photos have in common?

Well from today, here in the UK, you can get into an awful lot of trouble for taking them.  The authorities can confiscate cameras, remove film, or delete digital images, or even arrest you if they don’t like the look of you taking photos of public places, shopping centres, people, parades, government buildings, transport hubs, members of the armed forces, but especially our boys and girls in blue.  In fact, taking a photo of an on-duty police officer can get you a ten year prison sentence.  For more information, see here.

It’s all part of the Government’s anti terrorism legislation, you see.  But we all know it’s part of the Government’s planned destruction of our civil liberties and desire to turn the UK into a Stalinist Police State.

We’re already the most watched nation in the world.  From March, all our e-mail records will be kept, as will records of our mobile phone usage.  Soon enough, they’ll be tracking which websites we visit.

Already, more than two people can’t gather in protest without permission from the police.  We’ve had concentration camp survivor who dared heckle at the Labour Party conference arrested under anti-terrorism legislation.  An opposition MP’s offices and home were raided by anti-terror police and he was arrested under the same legislation.

We are having ID cards forced on us (to help prevent terrorism) too.  Of course, the terrorists that have been  involved in attacks here were all British anyway and all would’ve held an ID card anyway.

And yet we sit and let it happen.  The people are either blind or apathetic, or maybe they’re too scared to protest.  We had fewer restrictions on our liberties when we were under threat of invasion from the fucking Nazis.

Fucking nobhead government can go fuck themselves right up the arse for all I care.  It’d be nice if everybody took their camera out with them and took as many photos of the police and public places as they can and then e-mail all the images to Jackie Smith and Gordon Brown, the pair of useless cunts.

iSniffy

Those delightful poofs, Tazzy and Piggy, have done some wonderful technological things to my blog and visitors who drop by on their iPhone will see a very nifty version of my site.  Loverly.

Hell in the Big Brother House

I have to go away to Wales on Sunday for an “away trip” with colleagues from work. The senior team members are staying in my boss’s second home there, the plebs are being put up in a holiday home nearby. Here’s the specification:

Situated at the top of the road that winds its way down to Nefyn’s magnificent sandy beach, its close proximity to the beach will, undoubtedly, make it a popular choice. The property is well maintained, but very simply furnished. The front of the house has recently had upvc double glazed windows fitted.

Sleeps 20 (+ cot) in 5 bedrooms

The ground floor comprises the main lounge, with French door opening onto the front garden, an electric fire & colour television; toilet; the ‘French Lounge’ with an assortment of games, TV and video player has French doors opening onto the drive at the side of the house, and is accessed from the dining room which has French doors onto the back patio. The kitchen, also off the dining room, is equipped with a catering size gas range, an urn and a fridge/freezer; the utility room, beyond the kitchen, has another fridge and freezer, washing machine tumble drier, 3 additional sinks and a door to the rear garden.

On the 1st floor are: 3 bedrooms (rooms 1 and 2, each sleeping 6 in purpose built bunks, room 3 with a double bed); Bathroom with shower and toilet; 2 toilets; Shower room

The 2nd floor at the top of the house contains a further 2 bedrooms (room 4 with 2 single beds and room 5 with 4 single beds), tucked under the eaves and enjoying sea views.

There is a enclosed garden at the back of the house with a patio outside the French doors from the dining room, and large & small grassed areas. Access is from the utility room, dining room or side gate opening onto the driveway.

All beds are provided with 2 pillows and a duvet. A cot may be available on request.
You must bring your own bedlinen (sheets, duvet covers, pillow cases) and towels.

Additional Information

  • Pets are welcome
  • Smoking is not permitted in the house.
  • Wheelchair access is limited to the ground floor.
  • Background heating is by night storage heaters.
  • Parking for up to 6 vehicles.
  • Gas and heating is included in the rental
  • Other electricity by £1 coin meter

I, at the tender age of 38, will be sleeping in a bunk bed, sharing a bedroom with two others, who I’ve never met. It’ll be freezing (storage heaters + Wales + cliff top = fucking freezing).Ten of us will be driving there, but there’s only parking for six cars. We’ll probably be made to eat seaweed and moss and take baths in used water in a tub in the yard.

But here’s the most dreadful aspect of it all: no internet access.  I figured I could use my mobile to connect my PC to the Orange 3G network, it usually works really well, however look at this:

Orange

Orange

What about using my 3 phone?  That could do the same thing – if it gets collected today and returned on time  (been waiting since 7am for Parceline to come and get it, it’s now 3.30pm).  What’s the 3 coverage like there?

3

3

Ok then, so they’re both non-starters? But maybe one of those mobile broadband dongles from the other networks might be useful anyway, perhaps it’d be worth investing in one of those?

Vodafone

Vodafone

T-mobile 2G

T-mobile 2G

T-mobile 3G

T-mobile 3G

O2

O2

So there you go.  Staying with a bunch of people from work, who are actually OK, in freezing cold Wales, in a single bed, in a shared bedroom, with shared bathroom facilities, eating seaweed… and no chance whatsoever of an internet connection… for over TWO FUCKING DAYS!

Still, I get to go quad biking on Monday afternoon, so if I’m lucky, I might die or at least be hospitalised and then I won’t need internet access anyway.

Wasted days

Another day of decent weather has been wasted waiting in for those tossers to come and collect my mobile for repair.  Me and Rocky could’ve been having loads of fun, instead, I’ve been doing a bit of work.  Actually  I’ve had five attempts at burning a DVD of a avi file of a film.  The film plays fine in media player, the video burns to DVD OK, but there’s no sound.   I tried a different burning packages, and that just burns with the sound hopelessly out of sync.  I’m on my sixth try now, but I don’t hold out much hope.  It’s weird because I had no trouble burning the latest episode of the fabulous L Word the other night, but it’s now gone tits up.

Pissed off.

Second coming

The installation of President Obama is certainly a historic event.  It signals wonderful progress and brings a certain degree of hope to the Western World that we might actually stop being seen as evil.  Hope is one thing, action and results are another.  It does seem that an awful lot of hope has been pinned on him and, with a whole load of work to be done, it’s questionable that anything will actually be achieved.

The road to hell is paved with good intentions and that.

Obama has almost been elevated to Messiah status – certainly by Auntie Beeb.  He’s just a bloke with a huge job to do, with a rather unfair weight of expectation placed on his shoulders.

And we in the UK have experienced something similar before with Tony Blair.  I never fell for the smooth talking back in 1997, I saw right through him and New Labour and knew damned well that they’d achieve absolutely fuck all while ruining the country – because that’s what Labour does.  It’s the lack of integrity, the lies, the erosion of values, the erosion of our civil liberties that hurt most from the past eleven… twelve years of Labour’s appalling governance.  We all knew they’d fuck up the economy (but perhaps not this badly), but the snooping on its people, the gradual introduction of a police state, and the sheer hopelessness that has been heaped on us all – not even I would have expected that from them. Then again, that’s what you get with a government that is out of control and afraid of its own people.

So long as Obama and his team demonstrate the utmost integrity and at least some degree of competence during their administration, then I will be satisfied.  There won’t be miracles.

Rocky takes time out

Rocky has a habit of kicking off and shouting his head off at the slightest noise outside.  I’ve had enough.  He goes for a time out in the kitchen as soon as he starts grumbling to himself.  It won’t stop him doing it, but it’ll keep him quiet for a bit while I’m trying to concentrate on my work blog.

Little shit.

Mayhem

Bomb’s just left.  I’d invited her and Little Con over for the afternoon so we could all go for a little walk to the canal, say hello to the ducks and geese and stay for some food.

They arrived at 3.45pm, it was going dark, the sunshine of the morning and early afternoon had been eliminated by the heavy clouds that had been blown over by the winds that were increasing in intensity.  By this time, Rocky, whose walk I’d postponed, was climbing the walls with pent up energy.

After lots of bouncing from Rocky, after the street lights had come on, we finally got our coats on and left the house.  With the temperatures plummeting, Bomb gave up before we got to the end of the street and headed back.  I continued with Rocky, but aware that Bomb would be waiting, our walk was only short and we too made our way home.

I prepared our meal while Little Con ate hers, but not before Bomb had commented with astonishment at the absence of a microwave.  At the moment our food was ready, Bomb decided it was time to go and change Little Con’s nappy, thus allowing her own food to go cold while I ate mine on my own.  I’d prepared tuna with herb and olive salsa, new potatoes and curly kail.  I discovered that Bomb can’t eat kail; not only might it send her stomach off, it might actually send her to hospital!

Oh the fucking drama with her.  All the time, everything is a drama.  She complains that Con won’t let her do anything, but she won’t leave the child alone.  Since she was born, the slightest utterance from the baby has elicited attention and coddling from her mother. And she wonders why the child won’t leave her alone, always demanding attention from her.

One instruction that was absolutely critical – “Don’t let her go near the telly!”.  Connie ended up kissing the characters from Ice Age that was showing.

Why do people have children?  They need so much attention, cause so much hassle, ruin your lives and mess up your house.  Messy, messy little bags of snot, poo and sick.  And they make so much noise.  And they whinge and moan and misbehave.  This, in combination with a woman like my sister, is a recipe for much stress and shouting, and not a great deal of fun.  Ever.

Fuck, what a day. What a fucking day.

But now it’s peaceful…. ahhhhh.  Let’s have a look at some nice things, if I can find them to upload in this new-fangled file system.


Sonny
Unfortunately, this poor little feller had to be put down yesterday.  Wasn’t he handsome?  Such a big, strong, healthy animal, suddenly killed off by a cancer that we couldn’t do anything about.

Sonny

Hrrm, I think the other image is on the backup disk from before I wiped my machine and I can’t frigged to find it.


Threeeeeee
I have a pay as you go 3 Skypephone. I think it might be a bit dodgy because it just turns itself off and won’t power up again unless I take out the battery and put it back in again. Anyway, I went onto the 3 website and they have this really useful troubleshooter that takes you to a returns page if they can’t help you online. When it came to the pick up date option, I decided to change it from Monday to Wednesday, but you don’t get any information about the confirmed pick up date once you’ve booked the thing in. So bugger only knows when they’re coming for it. I’ll work from home on Wednesday, but if they come on Monday, they can go ninnies.

Nobheads.


Miss Congeniality
I took a personality tests, here is the overview of my character:

You are a leader – an independent thinker who approaches problems with a rigorous, rational and systematic mind. And with your curiosity, persistence, irreverence and logic, you tend to find innovative solutions to complex problems.

You tend to be bold, assertive and hard working. You are good with details, particularly technical details, and you enjoy talking about your work with others.

You are highly loyal to friends and family. You like nothing more than to share life’s little comforts you’ve earned, with those close to you.

Although you are good with people and enjoy being part of a stable and secure social network, you easily spend time alone, pursuing your own projects and goals.

You tend to be protective and pragmatic. And your friends and family find you innovative and interesting to be with.

So there you go. I’m going to hunt round for more online personality tests to see if they all give the same answer.

Oh look, another one!
Personality test



Pudding
I want some pudding, but there isn’t anything sweet in the house… other than fruit. For fuck’s sake. I want something like hot apple pie with warm custard. I’ll just have to have a fucking orange. I haven’t even got any bloody chocolate. Bollocks. Or biscuits. Tits.

Talking of tits, I taught Little Con to say “norks”, “knockers” and “bugger” today. It’s great, she just repeats everything you say. Oh, those sponge-like minds.

Seventh heaven

I’ve downloaded and installed Windows 7 beta; it’s very nice, a bit like Vista was supposed to be. Very fast, with some great innovations going on in the technical bowels of it… well, it’s got this good power management thing that turns things off when they’re not in use then zips them back into operation as soon as you use them again.

And the new Windows Media Player is nifty to the extreme, allowing previews of tracks and that. Lovely.  Are you watching, Apple?

But anyway, techno-schmeckno. Although pissing about with your PC can be quite exciting, it’s always with more than a touch of apprehension that I embark on such adventures. The idea of wiping everything off your machine – EVERYTHING – so you can install a new operating system and start again is pretty alien, given all the shite you have to put back on when you’re done, and the prospect of it all going horribly wrong. Nonetheless, I managed it without any problem and it’s like having a new machine.

It’ll be like having an old machine again when the beta version expires on 1st August and we all have to rush to buy a licensed copy for about £200 (v clever, Mr Microsoft)… or go back to Vista.

God, this is a bit techy.

Anyway, if you’re feeling a bit nostalgic having just updated to Windows 7, perhaps you’d like to take a walk down memory lane and have a look at these screenshots from previous incarnations of our beloved operating system; took me right back, so they did.  My personal favourite was Windows 95, no it wasn’t, it was totally shit – especially with that fucking bouncy paperclip thing.  Windows didn’t get anything like half decent until XP.

DHL
Yes, I’m working from home today (I’ve checked my e-mails periodically); this means that I was here to accept a parcel for Jo. We have a front door, with a bell, that is easily accessible. Mr DHL decided to try to come in through the back gate (locked), thus alarming Little Rocky and setting him off on one of his frantic barking tantrums. When Mr DHL realised that perhaps it’s not that common to break down somebody’s gate to deliver a parcel through the patio doors at the back of their house, he decided to come round to the front door and bang on it as loudly as possible, sending Rocky’s tantrum into megadrive.

Total nob.

Fuckbook is brilliant!
Well, that’s how I feel today at least, and my opinion is subject to change on a whim, or as the result of being “poked” by some cunt from years ago who I only added as a friend out of politeness. Be warned.

I found myself in hysterics the other night after I decided, goodness only knows why, to post some images of me that had been taken for official documents, ID cards, passports, that type of affair. Now, if I hadn’t just wiped everything off my PC, I’d be able to upload those images to Flickr and show them here. Here’s the link instead. Actually, forget that, I don’t want this page to link to anything that has identifiable information about me. Not that I’m paranoid or a shrinking violet or anything.

Anyway, here it is, my own personal gallery of shame:

Hrrm, can’t explain the big gap between the rows, but fuck it, you get the picture. I’m essentially a big fat bloater screaming to get out of my otherwise silf-like frame and, in general, I succeed in expressing the inner me very well.  I particularly like the photo from my driving licence and UK passport: see how I’ve skilfully plucked one eyebrow, but not the other?  And people wonder why I always travel on my Italian passport.

E-mail scam
“Hello, I am Prince Ngoloki Hokey Cokey from Western Nigernya and I would like to share e-mailing with you”

I am becoming more paranoid by the day and it won’t be long before I’m wearing a tin foil helmet to try to keep the thought police out. From March, all our e-mails are going to be stored on huge snooperbase for the purposes of criminal investigations and antiterrorism efforts. Well, that’s the government’s excuse at least. Great, isn’t it? I’m just going to have “Hydrogen peroxide source” as the default subject for all my messages and I’m going to change my name to Wahida Al Jalabi (apologies to anybody who happens to have that name!). I’d like to think everybody will do the same so the whole thing comes crashing down around Home Secretary Jacqui Smith’s stupid deaf ears.

I’m Spartacus!

Surely saving all our e-mails for snooping purposes is no different to having all our post opened and checked before we send or receive any?

I guess it’s quite comforting to know know that the government is so scared of its own people that it has to erode our civil liberties on a daily basis, but watch out for legislation preventing people from voting if they speak too loudly against them.

Cunts.