31st December 2004
Another why Tony Blair is the dog's nads post
The UK is the single highest donator of funds to relief in Asia. A staggering $75m already from the government and $48m in personal contibutions.
Today, I'm very proud to be British.
Comments (), Permalink, Posted: Fri 09:27 CST
You know your wife when...
...you can recreate her activities based on evidence left behind.
I went to the bathroom this morning (I know, TMI) and noticed a deconstructed coat-hanger and a box of baking soda.
I know she disapproves of plumbers, just on principle. And I'm crap at anything requiring dexterity so don't ask me to come fix your car. The last person I did that for, who had an unfortunate fuel line blockage, ended up calling the RAC from the A1 in Cleveland. Yet another half a job Yates instance of procrastination.
Anyway, a coat-hanger and baking soda? What would that mean to you?
To me it means she was unblocking something. The only thing missing was the vinegar. But I know she had some.
There isn't a problem in the world that woman cannot solve with baking soda or rice.
End of mystery. Blistering n'est-ce pas?
BTW, have I ever mentioned how inferior US bog-roll is to UK? I should have.
Comments (), Permalink, Posted: Fri 09:12 CST
29th December 2004
Are these people completely daft?
Spammers, let me give you some advice.
If I had undergone neurological tests on the 27th, I think I would have remembered. Sending me an email that is "re:" those tests on that date is not going to tempt me at all.
Another one that is unlikely to get me to open it, unless I have drunk an aircraft-hanger full of deadly aftershave, is "Halcyon skies skip blue coffee." That would be fine if I were downing the wrong kind of mushroom, but when I'm not, it has little appeal.
Next up, "Barely legal in farm yards." Shudder.
"Ph@rmacies" do not interest me in the slightest unless they are handing out mushrooms to make halcyon skies skip blue coffee.
And I have TWO watches. OK, the battery is dead in one, but that's no big deal. My digital dual timezone watch that I still think is pretty neat will serve me through these trying times. I don't need another. I'm all kind of Zen Buddhist when it comes to watches.
Also, in case you haven't noticed, I like my Linux system so discount XP is of no interest to me. You can send me the CD and I'll do exactly what I do with the AOL CDs - use them as coasters. Version 9's CD was particularly robust. Easily cleaned of wine/pepsi sloppage. I just wish they were made out of paper. With a family of five, I could save hundreds on bog-roll.
Lastly, I don't read Russian, Greek or Korean even though I have the fonts installed. Your borscht holds no power over me.
Comments (), Permalink, Posted: Wed 19:34 CST
What is wrong with this picture?
I ask the world to boycott Interbrew (the bastards) and there is little response.
Osama Bin Hidin' says boycott elections in Iraq and kill the infidels, and suddenly he has even more followers.
Maybe I should just sack my PR people. I mean who can you trust? Bin Daft or Yateswire. It's a no-brainer.
Comments (), Permalink, Posted: Wed 18:29 CST
Now for something a little different...
...and no, I don't mean the crap Monty Python stuff from the sixties that Americans seem to have discovered and revere so highly. There were a couple of good sketches and several good films, but the rest of it was utter PANTS.
So how was my day, you may all ask? PANTS thankyou, utter PANTS. So let's not go there.
I'll tell you what. I'll offer some handy tips for modern living.
If you've done the decent thing (and by that I mean opened your box of wine and let it breathe for a while,) and it still tastes a bit icky, let it chill a while. Yes, even if it's red. I know, I'm a heathen.
I was surprised to find out the other day that some people do not know that the only cure for a really bad throat is Irish whisky. It has some unfortunate side-effects and a lot of UDIs happen (unidentified drinking injuries) but none the less, it is the ultimate painkiller.
Never mix the above practices. Even over the festive season.
Our house still looks like Dresden after the blitz. Employ your children to pick up their own God damned candy wrappers.
If your two year old keeps ripping off his PANTS and diaper, super-glue the bloody things on to him.
There you go. Words to live by from Dirty Old Uncle Kenny.
Well, what do you expect? Football commentary? I might do that later.
Comments (), Permalink, Posted: Wed 16:50 CST
28th December 2004
Non-football folks look away
Well before I get into my swing, let me give you the Yatescentral update. We have decided that I should return to the UK for some medical treatment and sell the house here. Who knows where we may meet up again? Having read up on thyroid problems, I am now pretty convinced that I have one. Sucks. I'm frickin' 35 people. I am not bound for early destruction, although my great grand-father died at age 43 - and he was the spit of me in every way. I just hope I didn't inherit his shuffling off genes as well as those that make me look just like him.
Anyway, back to more important things. Football.
I watched the game against Aston Villa today for free. God bless you Rupert Murdoch. Occasionally. United walked all over them, yet could manage a single goal.
My observations from the match:
Fletcher is not Utd material. He will move soon. He has to. Rooney is a scouse thug with some talent, but not enough to carry him where he is despite his pitch presence. Alan Smith is Cantona in another life even though he missed a sitter. He can hold a ball up for minutes, and his dedication is unquestionable; who wouldn't want him on their side?
And what can we say about Ryan Giggs? The bloke is running around the field like he is 21. His speed is awesome, and he has finally used his right foot. Sometimes, I used to play without my right boot just to make sure my left worked as well as my right. It worked well enough but I was never Giggsy. That flick before he scored tonight was brilliance.
Ah well, the flu is hitting me hard so I need to go veg.
Natzoid is insisting that she buys me a laptop prior to returning to the UK, so the blog may abound for some time yet. We'll see. I have a horrible feeling that I will be ensconsed in a hospital there. I just hope they have wireless.
Comments (), Permalink, Posted: Tue 18:07 CST
27th December 2004
Death of a salesman
My wife has declared my blog boring. It might be time to wrap it up and give the blogging software to someone else.
It appears I'm going to be back in the UK for a while. My legendary throat problem has resurrected itself. And the US don't like that drain without cash. So back to the NHS I will fly.
The good news is that I might have some contracting work there. The bad news is that we are debating whether to sell the house for the equity or try to keep it.
Honestly, I would not wish this on my worst enemy. But we need to toil, be that paid or unpaid.
Comments (), Permalink, Posted: Mon 19:21 CST
The inevitable aftermath
Words cannot do sufficient justice to the state of our house at this moment in time. And Natzoid has the gall to go to work with a cold and leave it for me to de-louse clean up. It's going to be all day of a job. Ug.
I must confess that I have been glued to CNN for the last twenty-four hours. And my hand has been glued to a very nice Merlot care of Natzoid's sister, in rigid disbelief as the death toll rises in Asia. Here I sit, whinging about the state of the kitchen and front room while people have lost all their wordly possessions, and in over 23,000 cases, much more.
I never subscribed to the Church's "I am but a lowly worm" but today and yesterday, I have been counting my blessings. One of my best friends lives and works all over those parts of Eastern Asia where the floods hit. I keep checking for him on MSN and haven't seen him yet. That could well be because he has a life and chooses not to log in at every available opportunity. It could also be worse. I hope it's the former. I worry because he's the kind of guy who would take off to Thailand and lay on a beach at Christmas, sipping cocktails and reading the paper.
Update: Thinking about it, it's hard to imagine a God that would allow this. As if I needed any more proof.
Comments (), Permalink, Posted: Mon 10:35 CST
26th December 2004
No, I'm not a fascist
Today's news is horrendous. The earthquake that hit Asia is a monumental catastrophe. According to news reports, Phucket got hit hard. I was there no more than eighteen months ago. It's a gorgeous place.
It pains me to think that this...
can be so devasted.
Over 11,000 people dead. Utterly horrific.
Comments (), Permalink, Posted: Sun 16:55 CST
25th December 2004
Christmas cheer spread by Queen and Imam
This about ticked me off. Call it a hangover if you will, but reading crap like that makes my blood boil. The particular quote in question was the "I don't know any religious leader or any moral person who supported the war."
Now, I'm certainly not a religious leader but I do have morals. And I supported the war.
Healing divides in the UK starts with religious tolerance in TWO directions. The sooner the buggers realise that, the better. All it proves is that the Queen is even more senile than I thought; in one sentence, she's thanking British troops and in the next, she's introducing some radical Islamic fundamentalist. He should have his citizenship revoked and be shipped back to whatever hell-hole he came from. PHD from LSE or not.
Are people really that stupid that they don't see the damage this kind of thing causes? Does your average Muslim unemployed teenager in the UK understand the message he is giving? No. They see it as a blanket condoning of anti-government actions.
I apologize if I seem a tad jaded, but having lived in Leeds, I have seen the worst and best sides of this particular demographic. My local off-licence owner was the salt of the earth and I actually regret having lost touch with him. And then there were the thugs who burgled our house every few months. That were never caught but were well known in the community. My thousand quid stereo probably got fifty quid on the black market and was promptly inhaled. Bastards.
Yeah. Happy Christmas Queenie. Well done on being completely wrong yet again. Next year, we should just cut you out completely and have the Imam's Christmas Day address to the nation. I bet Tony Blair loved your inclusive message.
Comments (), Permalink, Posted: Sat 11:17 CST
Season's greetings
Dear Santa,
Thank you for the numerous battery powered noisy games that you brought for the kids. I'm sure the dogs will enjoy chewing them.
I especially look forward to the Wiggles guitar being consumed.
Yours faithfully.
Kenny
Comments (), Permalink, Posted: Sat 09:54 CST
23rd December 2004
Ugly is as ugly does
Just think. I had to deal with three years of Nev looking like this. And someone went and married it. Utter madness.
And the worst thing? They procreated...shudder.
Comments (), Permalink, Posted: Thu 12:20 CST
Envy me
As I type it is -24 degrees CENTIGRADE outside. This is what we regard as mild for this time of year. The expected high is -18.
Over night, I have discovered my true calling in life. It seems to me that CNN is very anglophile. All of their reporters are English. Voila. Instant old boy's club. All I'd have to do is file a report every now and again on the dramatic happenings in Coon Rapids. I don't know why I didn't think of it before.
Natzoid. About your book collection. It's currently warming me nicely.
Brrr.
Comments (), Permalink, Posted: Thu 09:31 CST
20th December 2004
The winter nights fly by with me on IM
From a conversation I had earlier today:
Them: I need to get a Secret Santa gift for a co-worker. What do you buy for a 4 foot tall Filipino woman?
Me: Stilts.
Them: I had considered that but I was frightened she might hit me with them.
Me: Well if she's only 4 ft tall, she'll not be able to hit you very hard.
Me: Try coffee. I always buy coffee when it's a passive aggressive thing.
Comments (), Permalink, Posted: Mon 17:06 CST
19th December 2004
'Tis the season to have flat batteries
As per pigging usual, our American made piece of shit SUV has a flat battery. Every flaming year this happens. Last year, being the romantic that I am, I bought Natzoid a battery charger for Christmas.
Flat battery? Battery charger? No problem, you might think.
WRONG.
The fecker wants the battery nodules on the outside to charge it, rather than some kind of screwy-in business.
You can see my knowledge of mechanics is unrivaled. Nodules and screwy-in bits. That's me.
"Natzoid, why don't you leave the battery in situe and charge it there with the proddler bits attached to the screwy in stuff?"
"WTF?"
"You know what I mean. Get the battery charger doofers and connect them to the proddles."
"Erm, how's about no? Sparks dickhead."
"Do you need the tools? I'll go find the tools."
"Shut up."
"Well, if the proddlers won't attach to the gubbins, then surely we'll need to take out the grommocks and attach the charger to the nodule-y fellas?"
"Shut up. You have no idea what you are talking about."
"Is this something to do with flange reamers? 'Cos if it is, that would be kind of funny."
"AAAAAHHHHH!!!! Get your arse out of here. I'll fix it."
"Well if you can't, I'll call Nicole who lives about 15 minutes away and we can jump start it."
"Shut up. I'll fix it."
"Very well."
With that, I got a nice glass of Shiraz and sat down in the nice warm computer room. I'd make a fecking excellent mechanic.
Oh, and it's only a minus bazillion degrees out there too.
I'll go look for the tools.
Comments (), Permalink, Posted: Sun 16:25 CST
18th December 2004
Just a Minneapolis Saturday avvy.
Ever since hearing about the Russian oil giants problems, I have been wondering whether I could buy Yukos for $1. Come on. Tell me it wouldn't be sweet to be an oil mogul.
Anyway, that's not what I was going to say, but worth saying none the less.
It has been a fine day. I awoke to find that the Man U vs Crystal Palace game was on Fox Sports World for FREE! What a game. About the best entertainment I have seen this year, and with the correct result. On a different day it could have been 10-4. 5-2 will do though.
Did anyone else notice that today was a goal-rich day? Fantastic. Sport of Gods. We'll leave the Sport of Kings to rich people and desperate ones.
Anyone going to Bennigans should try the Chicken and Shrimp with Satay sauce. Top. Ooh, and their Bloody Marys ain't bad either.
Anyhoo, there we were on our way across 10 to go watch Lemony Snickett when I espied the flashing blue lights of Coon Rapids' finest. To my disappointment, he was helping some bloke change a tyre. I am so used to The World's Greatest Police Cop Videos From Hell and Atlanta, I expected the cop to be checking the car for a stash, and that greying guy to be there:
"When criminals in Coon Rapids run their drugs from Anoka to Minneapolis down the infamous route 10 corridor, they'll think twice knowing that Sergeant O'Blarty is there, just waiting for them. He knows danger and could instinctively see that this apparently routine traffic stop to help change a tyre was about to explode into an international drug-busting operation which eventually led to the imprisonment of Mr Big. Join us next week when we start patrolling with Vice around Northtown Mall."
Lemony Snickett was great. Take your kids and go see it.
Comments (), Permalink, Posted: Sat 18:43 CST
17th December 2004
You may worship me
I am a Linux God.
This morning, I got around to re-doing my network set-up (www, MySQL, PHP et cetera) after the infamous Hard Drive Crash Of December '04 and started tying a few things down a bit tighter than they were. I still have a couple of minor security tweaks to finish, but for the most part, I am good.
While I was at it, I thought "What the hell? I'll install Samba." For those of you that don't know, Samba is a way for Windoze machines to access network files on a UNIX box using the native Windoze SMB (Server Message Block) protocol. By that I mean the same thing that allows you to get at other machines using workgroups and the like. To my mind the advent of SMB was daft; yet another attempt by Microsoft to wipe out Novell. And Novell Netware was severely shite. Trust me. I played with it for many years.
Instead of doing the decent thing and including an NFS client for Windoze, Microsoft went and created their own beast, SMB. SMB has some utterly bizarre characteristics in how it behaves on a peer to peer level, none of which I will bore you with but if you want to know, I have written diatribes on the subject for various publications. Just like I did on GDI handling in a 16-bit OS.
I don't know where I get all this crap from. I didn't study it and I certainly didn't set out to understand it. It just seems to me that the fundamentals of networking and operating systems seem very intuitive to me. I suppose it's like cryptic crosswords. You are either taught to do them in which case you have little chance of ever completing one unaided or you intrinsically get the plot with them and can think sufficiently laterally to solve virtually any clue.
Anyway, I'm done with the messing with the OS today. My man at "The Company" has been leaving me messages all morning regarding the Bin Laden recording. I suppose I should call him back and see what he's got. If it's of interest, be sure you'll hear it here first.
Comments (), Permalink, Posted: Fri 14:11 CST
16th December 2004
Hand me a brown paper bag and some cheap booze
I've run out of cigarettes. Actually I did so a few hours ago, so I have been practicing for when I am homeless and desperate. It's sad, but I have combed every ashtray for just the single briefest of puffs I can get. Pathetic really. But as my doctor friends keep telling me, nicotine addiction is worse than heroin addiction.
My automatic reaction to a lack of nicotine is to drop into "plane" mode whereby I chug some wine or spirit and go to sleep for the duration of the deprivation. That plan was scuppered by the fact that I had been a lazy bastard this morning and not cleaned the kitchen. T minus less than an hour and the missus would be home so there was no snoozing to be done.
For the sake of the children, I hope she is home within the next half hour. Any more of this and I will start unilaterally declaring war on small countries. Just me and my Swiss Army Knife against the world. Hmmm. Not true. The bastard Koreans confiscated it. Just me and my massive stature against a few armies. No problems.
Just give me a damned tab. I'm hurting here people.
Comments (), Permalink, Posted: Thu 17:37 CST
Bin Groovin' track listing leaked
Reports have been coming in that a track-listing has been leaked. The recording, which is Bin Groovin's first since January of this year, is alleged to be an album of cover versions. Our man on the spot has reported it as follows:
1) Cleric in a Tutu (The Smiths)
2) Tora Bora Bora (Depeche Mode)
3) Swimming Camels (Siouxsie and the Banshees)
4) West End Burkas (The Pet Shop Boys)
5) The Black Coat of Imam (Roy Harper)
6) Infidel-ity (Simply Red)
7) My Turban's on Fire (Sarah Mclauchlan)
8) The Bastard Son of Bin Laden (Half Man Half Biscuit)
9) Running Up That Hill (Kate Bush)
10) Candle in the Cave (Elton John)
11) Beat It (Michael Jackson)
More as it breaks. Remember you heard it here first.
Comments (), Permalink, Posted: Thu 14:38 CST
More on Bin Laden recording
I have been doing some digging. I contacted my man at "The Company" who had been in touch with his guy who had been in touch with his ex whose brother works at the CIA. Initial analysis of the tape has proved inconclusive as to whether Bin Groovin' is actually the lead vocalist or not. One fact has come to light though. On track three, in the 8th bar of the third verse, the backing singer is definitely Michael Jackson.
This fact has sent shock waves through Beverly Hills and the Hollywood area, with some observers suggesting that the recent warrant to search Neverland was actually a smoke-screen for an undercover recon mission to see if Bin Groovin' was actually holed up in the star's bedroom, disguised as a mysterious schoolboy named Bubbles.
President Musharraf did not return my call. The bastard.
Comments (), Permalink, Posted: Thu 13:11 CST
New Bin Laden recording
It is said that there is a new Bin Laden recording that has surfaced on the net. This worries me no end. The fact that Al Queada have mastered the art of leaking songs prior to the CD being released is proof that they have understood and can manufacture weapons of mass-marketing in the form of viral advertizing.
It's classic in its implementation. Following the David Bowie example of releasing songs over the internet prior to the CD, Bin Laden And Da Boyz O'Jihad continue with their theme of contemporary punk and anti-establishment ravings. Credits on the CD are said to thank Sid Vicious for the inspiration and heroin money he provided, Malcolm Mclaren for the image and Yassar Arrafat for his vocals.
I'll be on Kazaa the moment someone gets their hands on the MP3.
Comments (), Permalink, Posted: Thu 10:30 CST
Law lords prove their senility
The House of Lords today ruled that indefinite detention of suspected terrorists was illegal. Speaking from his straight-jacket, Lord Nobby of Postlethwaite asserts that the practice contravenes certain Human Rights afforded by the EU and discriminates based on nationality.
My God. The brandy must have been out early this morning. One, the UK actually opted out of that part of the EU law. Two, it does not discriminate against non UK nationals. The practice of detaining suspected terrorists indefinitely has been in force in Northern Ireland for years.
Lord Nobby and the boys need their bumps felt. This law has caused the imprisonment of a few tens of people. The government must have been very concerned to feel it necessary to act so. They don't go pulling people off the street at random.
Thinking about it, this is an absolute peach of a story. It exemplifies why the House of Lords needs to have a proverbial rocket implanted and then detonated in its rectal area. And it also shows why the EU is a farce; countries are allowed to opt in and out of certain laws (created by the likes of that other well known orange bastard, Kilroy-Silk) which are then cited as reasons that certain domestic laws are illegal. Utterly ludicrous.
Enough already. Have I ever mentioned how much I love tea?
Comments (), Permalink, Posted: Thu 09:17 CST
15th December 2004
Quickie
I have a few IPs that are showing up in my logs far too frequently. They are either bots or stalkers. If they are legitimate visitors, the people using them need to let me know before I 403 them into a third world country. The list is:
south.fit.edu
dsl-213-023-176-159.arcor-ip.net
pd951d1b6.dip.t-dialin.net
217.196.242.170
Merci.
Comments (), Permalink, Posted: Wed 11:50 CST
-- STOP THE PRESS --
Minneapolis, MN -- December 15th 2004 -- via Yateswire -- Yateswire has uncovered the next big thing in the world of blogdom is shortly to be unleashed on the world. It is set to take the blogging world by storm.
In a new low, blogs will become even more tedious than the nappy-changing journals of today, surpassed by the movement to blogging meaningless mathematical symbols and formal methods.
The creator of the movement, one Waaart had this to say: "People have been usurping the word blogdom. What they mean is the Blogosphere. I intend to reclaim blogdom from them and use its true derivation from the word boredom. The mathematics I will discuss will be applicable only to PhD level readers and dorks, so comments probably won't be necessary."
Yateswire contacted some readers who had a sneak preview of the blog.
Reader Pete of Oklahoma City said "Feck me ragged with a large root vegetable. It's drivel."
Reader Suzie of Singapore was about to comment but was afflicted with a sudden somnambulence.
Reader Kev of Liverpool was a great deal less evasive in his wordage, commenting "It's shite. I thought it was in Korean until I saw a real word."
Rumor has it that Stephen Hawking has it as his home page. Another asserts that you can actually move Mr Hawking's wheel chair from the page by clicking on the random mathematical jargon. Mr Hawking's agent urged restraint on clicking sigma as that is reserved for his ejector seat.
Update:
A source has just leaked the first entry:
H(3)->H(2)
Fascinating.
Comments (), Permalink, Posted: Wed 11:16 CST
14th December 2004
If you love me
In the metaphorical sense, not in the physical.
It has to be said that the US version of Trivial Pursuits is pants. I get hammered at it every time. And you know why? Because it is so US-centric that anyone who wasn't raised on Motherhood and Apple Pie has not a glimmering of an iota of a chance of winning. President's dogs? Like, who cares? Anomalous American football players? All I can say is Babe Ruth and hope.
Apparently history started in the 1600s. The rest of the world has yet to acknowledge this. And history is confined to North America. You'd be hard pressed to find a question where the game of cricket is mentioned let alone some facet of its history. Name me an American who knows the tale behind the story of the Ashes. It's criminal. I honestly do feel sorry for Americans who have never left their shores. There's a whole world out there waiting for you.
I haven't played Triv in a few years now because it frustrates the hell out of me. I know more about American history than most Americans do about world history but the odds are stacked against me. The trouble is that my usual opponent is not your average Amercian and is well read. This leads to disaster and much cursing.
If anyone wants to buy me a Christmas present, ignore the stupid wish-list from Amazon. Send me the "World" version of Triv from the UK. Just so I can show I know stuff. Even if it is trivia.
You know what might be a great idea? Mixing the cards from the US version and the UK one. That way my answer is as likely to be Viv Richards as it is to be Fluffy.
Come on. Someone in the UK, do it. Think of the pleasure you will bring to my life. Email me for the address.
I love you guys, I really do.
Off to watch Liverpool spank Portsmouth while the kids wail that they cannot play on the PS2. To them I say, when you can name me the entire 1999 first team for United, then you will be my offspring and earn the right to trump me on the TV.
In fact, after the footie, I might throw in a Cantona video so they can see what they have been missing. American kids so lack the culture they need to survive in the global Triv world.
He's French, he's flash...
Comments (), Permalink, Posted: Tue 13:58 CST
Portrait of the pretentious
As Natzoid has mentioned, we went to Sam's concert last night. It's probably the first time I have been with the teeming masses for quite a few months. I now recall what it is that makes me hate them so.
The characatures were out in full force to watch their spawn brutalize various musical instruments and ruin many a fine tune. Then again, unless you are playing Capstick Comes Home, brass will never really cut the mustard.
The first thing that struck me is that all the parents were way older than we are. We must be the youngest of all the class. OK, I know, I'm 35 but seriously people, the majority of the parents were in their 40s or 50s. And most of them were so publically damned well-adjusted that it made me want to punch them. I resisted the urge.
The second thing to hit me was the total lack of occasion. While surly fathers rolled up immaculately groomed from their downtown offices with metaphorical "I'm very important" signs plastered all over them, their kids turned out to play in a concert in jeans a sweat-shirt. Inappropriate.
The smoking man turned up too. There he was in his trench coat. I'm sure he didn't have a kid playing. He was just looking for someone to abduct. No-one wears a trench coat like that unless they are very senior in "the company." Listen Mr Agency Man, if you want to blend in to the Midwestern life, try putting on another 100 lbs and wearing a tee-shirt. After all it was a balmy 10 degrees F last night. That's what we here call July. And that whole brushing you hair thing...that has to go too.
Speaking of hair, Sam's music Nazi teacher has dreadlocks. She wore a skirt that was a touch too short to be decent and displayed legs that would make Redwoods jealous. She conducted herself like she was playing a crowd of thousands and had that nicey nicey voice that is sympomatic of people who are destined to be career teachers. Sickly in its tone, it felt as if it had invaded your nostrils and made them bleed. I was very disappointed when Natzoid failed to deliver on her promise of killing the woman. Who could go home to that level of disgusting sychophancy? I'd be on death row within minutes.
Which brings me nicely on to a point I have wondered about for some time. Is it really necessary to talk like a cretin when speaking to kids and animals? Our kids get spoken to in a fashion that befits what they are...little adults. I refuse to drool saliva as I speak or shatter mirrors as I ask Sam to put the kettle on. Uggg. It makes me want to vomit just thinking about it.
So there you have it. A character assassination of the general public and the ever so secret. Other people suck. And I bet not one of the attendees last night has a blog. Suckiest bunch of sucks to ever suck.
Comments (), Permalink, Posted: Tue 10:35 CST
12th December 2004
Literature lesson
There is no such thing as an assist in football. It's a cross or a lay-off. Assists happen in hockey and basketball. They do not happen in the beautiful game.
Get over it.
Comments (), Permalink, Posted: Sun 11:19 CST
11th December 2004
'Tis a fine day not to be a scouser
Oh Lordy. Did you see it? Did you? Let me remind you once more:
Everton 1 - 0 Liverpool
Oh how the mighty fall. Not many years ago, the scousers were the team to beat. Now they are but a footnote to the Premier League in much the same fashion as Spurs or Portsmouth.
As a life-long United fan, I have waited many years for success. It came and it appears to have gone again but at least I had my glory years. I feel for the loyal supporters of other clubs that may never live through the joy of winning the Premiership, FA Cup or Champion's League...in the same season. Sorry about that. I felt I had to gloat.
Football is a harsh mistress.
Speaking of harsh mistresses, I dreamed I was at Mancamp a couple of nights ago, eating pigs and drinking moonshine created by Steve's evil mind. I was having a fantastic time until I turned to see my ex-wife's sister amongst the throngs of attendees. It was such a shock, I needed another moonshine.
My ex-wife's sister is the genesis of what made my ex-wife so intolerable. Older sisters with attitude usually transplant their sociopathy to their younger siblings. Being the first of her family to get a Bachelor's degree, she felt infinitely superior to the rest of the world and let it be known that she was a formidable intellect. I used to laugh. "Ooh - a degree in psychology - well done - is that a BA or a BSc. Yes, I thought so." She didn't like me because I was not only a scientist, but a meat eater to boot. Come to think of it, she didn't like anyone really. She would muster up situations just so she could unleash her hateful tongue on some poor unsuspecting bugger and cause as big a scene as possible, with her consistently coming out of it as the injured party.
I say this to prepare you for my actions in the dream. Seeing J at Mancamp sent a rush of blood to my head and years of loathing manifested themselves in a punch of such power that her J-ness was propelled into a swimming pool. As soon as I had done it, I was on the defense. I fully expected to be expelled from Mancamp but to my surprise, both Steve and Val sauntered up, beers in one hand, pig in the other, and congratulated me on a fine uppercut to "the hippy."
All was well. Shortly after this event, I woke up. And the first thing that crossed my mind was "That Steve isn't half the arse that everyone says he is."
Who says that dreams do not let you purge your daemons? It was thoroughly Cathartic. And I got beer and pig. How much better can dreams get?
Comments (), Permalink, Posted: Sat 18:39 CST
10th December 2004
It's been one week
Change the channel if you don't like mush.
Natzoid was running a hotel when I first met her. She had turned it around from being a supremo loss to being a profitable business within months of her arrival. It was a bit of a pain in the arse hotel. Being used to room-service and the like, I cursed the place.
I had installed my laptop at the airport en route to Chicago. By the time I arrived, I had enough functional software to get me on the net and to analyze repeatability numbers. Such was the game at the time.
When I arrived at the hotel by taxi, it was obvious that not having a car was not an option. Natzoid organized a rental for me. It was huge. I had never driven a car in the US, and I certainly hadn't driven a left-hand drive car ever.
After our initial meeting, Natzoid vowed to find me in the UK. She planned on taking a plane to Heathrow and asking where the pub on the hill was. At that time, I used to frequent the Golden Fleece in Oakworth. Good luck N.
The next time I saw Natzoid was in Florida. We arranged to meet in Palm Coast. Natzoid, being the geographical buff that she is, flew into Miami thinking that Palm Coast was Palm Beach. Our survey said no. She ended up taking the Greyhound up to Daytona where I arrived a few hours later.
During that two weeks in Florida, we had both a great and horrendous time. It was the fires of '98. We awoke one Saturday morning to the raucous sounds of some bugger telling us to evacuate as the fires were getting closer. The conventional wisdom was that we should head North. I took one look at the freeway and decided that it was a thoroughly pants idea to head North and headed for Orlando. It was like a scene out of Schindler's List. Ashes were floating down from above and the whole drive was tinged with a sense of doom.
We spent Independence day in Orlando in one of the better hotels.
When we returned to Palm Coast, we hit the beach and got the car stuck on it. Natzoid being the terminal pragmatist got us out of it.
As we drove back to the hotel, Natzoid told me how she could not drink rum. Why? Apparently, when she drinks rum, she gets a bit squiffy and her shirt comes off.
Enter BNL. As we drove back, I heard One Week for the first time. Ever since then that song hss been our little anthem. Every time I hear it, it makes me smile. Memories of Florida, Sushi and that horrible flat in Harrogate come flooding back.
It was the best of times and the worst. My family had ceased communicating with me. My friends had left me to my own devices. I knew I had a horrible divorce in the offing. But all the way through it, I could smile knowing Natzoid's voice was but a phone call away no matter what time of day or night it was for her.
She lost a lot in choosing me and I lost a lot in choosing her. Six years on and two kids later, I still can't imagine life without her. I don't believe that anyone has a friendship like we do, even if she is banned from rum.
Comments (), Permalink, Posted: Fri 15:44 CST
9th December 2004
Simon Delivers
Sometimes, when we're feeling even more lazy than usual, we use an online grocery site who deliver the following day. Natzoid went on there last night under the guise of requiring groceries and fulfilling an imminent requirement for diapers. Today I took delivery of the consignment.
Three tubes of sugar cookie dough.
One large pack of Oreos.
One feck-off big box of fudge cookies.
One feck-feck-off big box of chocolate chip cookies.
Two gallons of cow juice.
Five kinds of cheese.
U2 CD.
We must be low on cookies. I wouldn't know since I don't usually eat them.
Do you see anything odd there? If your carnivorous mind is screaming "Where are the dead animals?" award yourself ten points, pat yourself on the back and go straight to the top of the class, claiming $200 on the way.
In other news, I awoke at 2:00am this morning to find the missus on the phone to Alfie again. Wrong on so many levels. Uno, the computer room door was shut. Two (I can't spell in freaky-deaky foreign,) it's a work day. Three, he's Argentinian.
Now being Argentinian is not in itself a crime per se. But let us analyze their contribution to the world. I'll be fair and list the bad points first so as to leave on a positive note.
Bad contributions
Hand of God incident in the World Cup
Costa Mendez
Maradonna
Attempt to rogue "The Malvinas"
Hand of God incident in the EUFA cup
Maradonna
The Perons
Maradonna
Good contributions
Frey Bentos pies
Cheap red booze
Did I mention the fat-bastard coke-head Maradonna in the bad contributions? So you see, I'm not enamoured with Argentina. My cousin got caught there when their economy was crumbling and couldn't get out. She since has had two kids with her Argentinian husband who has since fecked off under the guise of getting medical treatment.
Not looking good really is it?
And now the piece de resistance...you know what Natzoid came home with last night? Argentinian Shiraz. Talk about lemon juice on paper cuts...
I have decided that if I ever become president or a despotic ruler of a third world country, I will develop nuclear weapons and nuke Argentina.
Alfie, make sure you are clear as soon as you see my name in the news.
Comments (), Permalink, Posted: Thu 13:33 CST
8th December 2004
Sorry arsed cable service
It appears that the nearest I will get to watching any of the Champion's League football tonight is hitting refresh on Ananova or the BBC web site. Actually, that is not entirely true; ESPN2 are showing Roma vs Real Madrid. I don't know whether I get ESPN2. I have only a few minutes to find out.
There is, get this, NOTHING available on PPV. Not one single match. Fox Sports World, which is meant to be changing its name to The Soccer Network or some such, is showing a re-run of Blackburn vs Spurs. Whoopee-frickin'-do.
Lord give me strength in this time of deprivation.
Update: I do get ESPN2 but I cannot watch it. Tommy Smith wouldn't know a football from a hippo. The guy is, for want of a better word, a complete feckwit.
Comments (), Permalink, Posted: Wed 13:20 CST
A furriners guide to the US
In recent days, not only have I had my sexuality questioned due to my tea-sipping ways and choice of brew, but the UK contingent have criticized my spelling and grammar. I am bilingual. I speak English and American. It helped when I was working as I had the ability to translate American documents and instructions into English. Let me give some insight into the differences. For example:
English: England are playing Poland tonight.
American: England is playing Poland tonight.
English: Let's get back to normality here.
American: Let's get back to normalcy here.
English: I haven't been feeling well lately.
American: I haven't been feeling well anymore.
Nuanced at worst. Obvious at best.
Spelling is another issue. The English tend to complain about the excessive American use of the letter Z (zed/zee.) Examples are initialized, criticized, patronized et cetera. As a newbie to the workplace, I too moaned about this wanton use of the Z, after all there is only one in a Scrabble set and after that you're buggered. It frustrated me because every time I typed initialiSe, the compiler would baulk and I would spend quite a few minutes discovering the routine was called initialiZe. The same applied to colour/color. I'm sorry to say that the American use of the Z is actually straight from the OED. We have been wrong for years. Shame on us Brits.
In order to further educate my good friends still imprisoned living in Blighty, I offer a translation guide to aid you, should you ever escape:
Oreos: Custard Creams (but different colors.)
Kleenex: Tissues (not toilet roll.)
Band-aid: Plaster (although sometimes something to do with Bob Geldolf.)
Broiler: Grill
Grill: Barbeque
Loveseat: Two-seater couch
Tea: Insipid hot water that had a crap teabag waved over it
Entertainment Center: The thing that you put your TV and video on
Coke: Coca-cola (and only Coca-cola, NOT Pepsi.)
Sweet potato: No translation - the English language does not cater for such horror - try Vogon poetry
Crock pot: Slow cooker
Silverware: Cutlery (not Chav accesories.)
The leader of the free world: That Bozo in the White House
Idaho: A state, not an admission of a fling with a lady of the night
Blinkers: Indicators
Signal: Indicate
Yield: Give way
Toilet paper: Bog roll
Restroom: Shit-house
Zuchini: Aubergene
Home: House (as in "I'm looking to buy a home.")
You see. Whoever said that the UK and the US were two countries divided a common language was wrong. They are separate languages. So leave me alone.
Oh, and if you do escape, bring your own teabags and a life-time supply of Double Velvet bog roll 'cos there isn't a brand a Brit would wipe his arse on. Ba-da-bum.
Comments (), Permalink, Posted: Wed 11:20 CST
7th December 2004
Rearrangement of links
With the advent of the Wart's sister delving into the downward spiral that is blogdom, I thought I would take the fine opportunity to reorganize my links a little. Just a smidgen. I have quite a few British bloggers that I have collected over the last few months and being the fine, upstanding citizens that they are (even those that have escaped) I thought they deserved their own little block there. Just think of it as a little pigeon-hole that I have forced you into. It was done with love. Honestly.
Being that I am a hopeless vi lover, I was yanking this and putting that at a fair pace so I may have accidentally lost a couple. If you think that you are missing, let me know and I'll see if I can remember who you are, where you are and why you are.
In other news, I have decided to forego watching Everton and Blackburn in favor some more procrastinating prior to domesticity. I knew you would understand. Although studying the SoccerTV page, I find myself with a dilemma. At 19:00 CST tonight, I have to choose between watching Manchester Utd spank Southampton or the second of the evenings CSI. Such hardship, I can barely tolerate.
I think I might tell you that I have come in for some severe criticism for my new found passion for Jasmine tea. Comments have questioned my sexuality, asked whether I am female, offered me dates on Italian beaches etc. You get the drift. To those offenders I say "I can't hear you. I am too busy lying in the bath with my Galaxy chocolate, Chardonnay and a good Mills and Boone." I flounced off the second the first hateful, upsetting, unfeeling and brutish email came in to eat some ice-cream and prepare for a full facial. Girly-Man my arse. I'm comfortable in my tea-drinking habits. You guys want to get some taste-buds. I hear that Anheiser Busch does some that sound just about fit for you lot.
I'm off to mince down the hall for another cup.
Comments (), Permalink, Posted: Tue 13:58 CST
Out-foxed by the Orange Bastard
I was going to tell you all about how the orange one beat me again last night when it came to the garbage but to be quite honest, it depresses me too much so I'm not even going to go there. In the style of my old further maths teacher, all I will say is this:
Garbage, Vinegar bottle, Empty, Mess.
There's even more football today. Allah Akbar. No, I haven't gone all freaky-deaky fundamentalist, just fundamentally freaky-deaky. This means I will have to prize my lazy arse out of this oh-so-comfy chair earlier than usual, complete the domestic stuff and shower prior to the start of the game, thereby buying me a couple of hours with which to bathe the mini-me's after the game. Half a job Yates is in the building.
Last night, Natzoid jokingly made a reference to going working for a Catholic charity. In all seriousness, I responded "You'll need to be a Catholic to do that I bet. Then again, we have enough children to pass as Catholics." Which got me thinking, I know pretty much nothing about Catholicism apart from guilt, confession and rosary beads. The rest is all a mystery. I have been to exactly two Catholic cermonies. One was a wedding in Italy and the other a funeral in Lowton. Both seemed to go on and on for months. Maybe I was just lusting after tobacco all the way through them, but I suspect not. They are just infinitely longer than needbe.
When I shuffle off this mortal coil, I don't want some damned service that goes on well into the following calendar month. Give it a rendition of "I've got furt leave room for mi chips so twenty pints is fine" and send me to the barbeque. Then assemble in the Ram's Head and sup 'til you drop. Word of warning though; don't touch the Greenalls otherwise you may well be joining my recently deceased self. The pumps were last cleaned to the tune of air-raid sirens, since that was the last time anyone had access to gas-masks, a required accessory when cleaning the pumps there.
To continue the nonsense stream of consciousness tenuously connected by a set of common dots of different sizes, it suddenly struck me that neither Natzoid or I has a will. Very irresponsible. Not that we have that much to leave anymore, but still. And with me being from t'other side of the pond with assets there, there will be some royally complicated tax implications. Not to mention the earlier choice that I need to make; where will I finally get some shut-eye? Will it be the UK or the US? Hmmm. Too much levity. I guess I should get someone to do a Monsieur Alfonse; "Swiftly and with style."
OK. Enough. I'm back into pre-procrastination mode as I sip my Jasmine tea. Better get back to brewing another one prior to trying the lemon and ginger tea.
Comments (), Permalink, Posted: Tue 11:11 CST
6th December 2004
Chavs hit CNN
UK readers will be delghted that Britain's latest fashion export to this side of the pond is the Chav. CNN showed an article (fairly long by their standards because, of course, their target demographic has the attention span of Gaza after a night out on the piss with Chris Evans) about the Chav and associated "culture."
While the confused looking presenters reported on this phenomenon, you could see that they had no clue whether they should be rushing out to buy Burberry or frowning down their powedered noses. 'Twas a thing of beauty.
The clincher came at the end when the teleprompter had them read that Burberry had pulled all its Chav products as the Chavifying of them devalued the brand. Looks of relief from both anchors.
I did watch the Boro vs City game. And I did finish my cleaning. The game was OK, but scrappy for the most part with moments of greatness. Apologies to Boro and City fans everywhere but I actuallly enjoyed last week's clash between Scunthorpe and Wrexham more. That was a stunning game with some very talented young players.
Oh, look at the time. T-40 until CSI. I'd better get moving. Just a few last crystal chandeliers to dust and the domestic staff to beat.
Oh, before I go, I know how you love your Orange Bastard™ antics. Well, last night as we all dozed, the Orangus Gittus got into the garbage can again. Chewed diapers abounded, half-consumed ritz wrappers littered the floor and Mexican take-out wrappers lay shredded. The Orange one greeted me first thing with her customary helicopter tail and Sasha did her growly thing that she does every morning. As I walked towards the dining room, I saw the Orange Bastard's ears retract and the classic signs of pure citrus guilt. The closer I got to the dining room, the more haunched she became. I tried to block off an exit route knowing full well there was something amiss. But to my horror, just like Ruud Van Nistelroy, she saw her opportunity and took it. She was quicker than my mother's hand on my dad's pay day. Woosh, there was aa streak of orange worthy of a Star Trek warp entrance as she disappeared behind the sofa. I dived but missed, instead smacking my hand on a table. There she remained for an hour or so, until her orange cells forgot why she was hiding. Out she came with her tail at 20 knots, bright smiley eyes and a look of adoration. "Come here ya fat orange lovable bastard, Yes. Right ya git - ya see this here that I have your nose in? This is what the upcoming beating is for." Victory is mine. Bald man triumphs over pure orange evil once more. It's heart-warming isn't it?
Comments (), Permalink, Posted: Mon 17:29 CST
I'm very much pro-procrastination
A few moments ago, I sat down to blog that I was procrastinating and putting off doing the cleaning. But then I thought, "You know what? I'd love a cup of Jasmine tea before I blog about procrastinating." Double whammy eh? Oh, the hilarity.
Well what can I say? My football predictions were absolutely dire. Sorry about that. I hope no-one uses them for the pools.
Back to Jasmine tea. I discovered it while in China, living on G&Ts. The food was sometimes so disgusting that I got my calories from gin and tonic, which obviously doesn't bode well for the following morning. So, as a counteraction, I took to supping gallons of Jasmine tea. It's amazing stuff. Poo-poo all you want, but there is something about it that has a really calming effect.
Last week, the kids were driving me insane with messes and demands. I was at the point where I was wondering whether it would be better to be prosecuted for abandonment or involuntary homicide. I was just about to decide upon the latter due to the temperature outside being a hindrance to the former, when it dawned on me to zone out and get a cup of tea. Out of nowhere, I thought "Jasmine tea." Boom. Twenty minutes later, I let them down to the playroom (something I rarely do) and I was a busy little drone, cleaning and washing. Truly marvelous sight it was.
So today, I have about as much as I had to do that day and have been procrastinating at a par level for a Monday. I'm on my Jasmine tea and feeling tres mellow. Unfortunately, I have just noticed that the Boro vs City game is being screened live for FREE, which is a tad problematic in that it will take me to four o'clock and leave me approximately two hours to do all the cleaning and shower. What say you? I reckon that it's entirely do-able as long as I run around like a blue-arsed fly as soon as the match finishes. I suppose I could do some at half-time and could enlist Samantha's help when she gets home.
Ah yes, it sounds like a plan to me.
See you on the dark side after the revolution. H'oway the Boro (sorry Steve.)
Comments (), Permalink, Posted: Mon 13:42 CST
5th December 2004
Call me Mr Motif-Pants
Apologies for all the typos yesterday. I was using a full-size keyboard on a Windoze box. I hate full-sized keyboards. They are my enemies. All keyboards should be the size of laptop keyboards.
Anyway.
Teapot has been reborn. And while I was reinstalling and generally faffing around, I thought "What the hell? Let's give this KDE stuff a whirl."
Oh my God, it's gorgeous. It's a bit of a Windows style interface but it runs my favorite of all the window managers; a Motif derivative. It is *slick*.
Most of all the mail client kicks ass. With one little exception. I can't get the damned preview pane to go make love to itself. If there's one thing I hate on a par with full-sized keyboards, it's preview panes. But it's all so lovely, I can forgive it that glitch.
When I originally tried to get sound working on Linux, it was a royal pain in the bum. This time it took me about 5 minutes in total. An absolute breeze. Now, when I get emails, rather than the ghastly blurp of the system sound board, I get a lovely, soft, little ding.
I'm up and running without any loss of data within 24 hours of having received the new HDD. A marvel. All that is left to do is get the web server, MySQL and PHP going, and probably a few security tweeks and Bob's your proverbial uncle.
If you're a Linux user and you haven't tried KDE, do it. You will not regret it. After all, us die-hard Unix people always hated the Openlook manager and the rest of the tat that was out there. Even before I product managed Motif, I loved it. They've done some stuff to it and called is Lesstif (oh, my ribs are cracking) but it still seems way ahead of its time. Managing windows the way windows should be managed!
Life is good once more. Teapot stands proud and seems to be liking her HDD upgrade. She's flying.
So am I. Am sure there must be some crap on the telly that I should be watching.
Comments (), Permalink, Posted: Sun 20:29 CST
4th December 2004
If your'e not a geek get out of here
Warning - Linux post.
I got up this morning to find that teapot would not pull down mail. Hmmm. It moaned about some permissions problem. Fair enough thought I, MOzilla mail is pretty crap, I'll restart my X server. Boom. Errors-amundo.
Oh feck.
Ronnie-reboot time. Moet complaining about hard-drive. Time to get the fsck out. fsck fails and bumps me to init(0). I try an efsck on the bastard and it starts moaning about a block that it cannot fix. Into debugfs I go, looking for the superblock. I try every one. No joy. efsck is failing me. At this point it dawns on me to have a look at what the hardware is doing. A quick dmesg tells me that I have a read error. I play a couple of wild cards by messing with dms and udma but still no joy.
Have a look around hard drive to find that (semi) fortunately the only thing that is buggered is to do with booting. The rest of the data is there.
I have just taken posession of my Christmas present, a new hard drive which will allow me to reinstall Linux on that and recover all my data. I may just try a dd if= of=.
Don't call me. I have a long nnight of geeking and smoking ahead of me. This is a big job people.
Comments (), Permalink, Posted: Sat 15:48 CST
3rd December 2004
Now I'm pissed
I downloaded a standalone Scrabble program for my Linux box. Initially I was a bit pissed because the colors were such that I could barely see what was on the board. Have source code, will hack.
I found the bit of code that needed changing, recompiled it and hey presto, visible tiles. Woohoo. I set about playing it at the easiest level and quickly came to the conclusion that it had severe advantage over my mortal cells. We had grids of 4x4 tiles will off-shoots. Nightmare.
Anyway, I was within spitting distance of the computer when it suddenly played FA in the middle of BFE. It didn't connect to anything on the board. I muttered something about it being a cheating bastard by my playing a word that it dictated was not good and a few moments later, the fecker went and played the same word. The next go it had, it said it had 48 points for its turn, yet I could not see what it had added. Benefit of the doubt ya cheating bastard. I played my next turn and it played its. Again 48 points and no addition to the board. Another two goes of doing the same and I thought "Hmmm. Anomalous bug."
I tried to play it again this morning but today it freaked earlier and just kept adding 45 points without playing anything.
Upshot? I wasted two hours combing through code that cheats. Not a happy camper. Time to get out my all Psion 3A I think. That had a mad-ass scrabble game. And come to think of some crafty tools.
Comments (), Permalink, Posted: Fri 08:50 CST
It's that time of the week again
Before I laud my predictions for the weekend's footie, a few comments on said subject. Firstly, I so would have been toast last week so I'm glad I had the weekend off to cavort around Coon Rapids Dam with Paulo (we were the only ones there and the park ranger must have passed by us about ten times eying us suspiciously. Apparently no-one goes there in late November.)
Secondly, I have to say hats off to Liverpool last weekend. Although the winning strike was virtually the last kick of the match a la Man Utd, on balance I think they deserved it. Although they were lucky midweek. Next up, I watched the West Brom vs Man Utd game yesterday. I cringed my way through the first half even though I knew the result. Not convincing at all. However the second half was a treat of some absolutely sublime football. The vision, the first touches, the movement of the ball. I defy anyone to beat us when we play like that.
OK - as the old joke goes, eargwi o:
Arsenal vs Birmingham
Aston Villa vs Liverpool
Blackburn vs Tottenham draw
Chelsea vs Newcastle
Everton vs Bolton draw
Man Utd vs Southampton
Norwich vs Fulham
Portsmouth vs West Brom
Crystal Palace vs Charlton draw
Watch me mess up like last week...
Comments (), Permalink, Posted: Fri 08:10 CST
2nd December 2004
Warped theory of the day
I think it's about that time of year whereby I should give my State of the States diatribe. So here goes.
I have a theory that you can tell an industry's health from marketing dollars spent. I know, marketing 101 combined with targeted pieces, but this has a twist to it. I would say, from the number of online trading ads, mutual funds, other financial bollocks that the finance market of the US is broadly speaking rolling around in green and snorting white stuff in glee. Having got carried away with its own hype surrounding inflated markets, it has gotten over the hangover of its poor little burst bubble and is now back to the good old days where a single piece of news shifts the markets up or down quite a few percentage points. And out come the advertizing budgets to tell you it's all OK again now - give us more green and white, and we'll spend it on stocks with P/E ratios over a hundred again for you. Isn't it funny that once you reach negative earnings they conveniently stop displaying them and refuse to publish negative ratios. Just think what a negative ratio would do to their customer base. Never mind eh lads, there's one born every minute.
A counter example of this is the deluge of ads for HD and LCD TVs. They just smack of desperation. Premium end electronics are tough to sell in a country whose population is still hurting. They are expensive to make. They are difficult to make. If you saw what goes into making color LCDs, I swear your mind would explode all over the clean room walls.
One segment that completey astounds me though is the TV ads for luxury cars. Who the feck buys a Jaguar, Mercedes or Lexus as a Christmas present for someone else? Does this happen? I mean, what do you do? Do you just drive past your local Mercedes dealer and think "Hell, yes. That's exactly what I should buy the spouse for Christmas. I could put a big bow on it and hope they are too drunk to notice it in the driveway as they stumble in on Christmas Eve and wowsers, Christmas morning, once the kids have opened their presents, I'll get the rodgering of a lifetime." I mean, you buy your kids cars. But not those types of cars. 10 year old Honda Civic with 120,000 miles. That will do for you sonny Jim. Now get a job and insure it yourself.
And how they finance their stock losses purchases after lumping out $30+k on a car?
Along similar lines are jewellers. Who buys diamond encrusted necklaces at the drop of a hat? Even if they are reduced from $5000 to $2000. Utter fiscal madness.
Maybe I just watch the wrong stations. CNN - switch on Eddie Izzard voice - Foor the discerning rich stock-brokers, CFOs and CEOs of this world - end Eddie. After all when I am getting down to my nightly CSI dosage, SpikeTV has endless commercials for deodorant drenched men being lusted after by beauties. What was that old one? "Brut 33 - For the man who doesn't have to try too hard." I must remember to pick a bottle of that for next time I'm feeling bulemic.
And then there's the poor old furniture people. 30 second ads which must have ccost all 50 cents and a Mars bar to make. Rattle off your latest hot sale and watch your customers disappear down to IKEA for some flat-packed crap that just smacks of tack. I can say that because all our furniture smacks of tack due small children, marker-pens and dogs.
Do I really live in such a different world? Cars, necklaces, massive stock portfolios that are ever onwards and upwards? Is it the top 20% that do these things and are worth spending so many marketing dollars on. Or is it Homer Simpson hocking himself up to the nines like a good American consumer. It's no wonder the healthcare system sucks and people are so reliant on social security.
Sorry about that - bit of a rant that really. Can you tell I was up all night?
Comments (), Permalink, Posted: Thu 11:21 CST
