30th June 2004
I knew it
Sorry but those that are so pre-disposed to disagreeing with everything on principle are wrong. What is it that makes people believe outlaw and corrupt regimes above Western elected democracies? Sure, sometimes we can be wrong, but hell, conspiracy theorists are generally wrong too. Sure, GW is a loon with all the communication skills of a retarded baboon, but hell people, sometimes you need to distinguish between wrong and right.
I think it is a bit sad when when the automatic leaning is to believe the despotic Iranian government above our own people. As my father used to say to me, if you like it so much, go live there. I did that. I, sure as hell, like where I am depsite my circumstance.
Comments (), Permalink, Posted: Wed 16:28 CDT
Fame and fortune await (not me)
Well it appears that Natzoid is going to be on Channel 5 news in the not too distant future. I guess I need to do the decent thing and get the iron out in preparation. She'd better bloody-well plug my software or all hell will break loose.
In fact, I think she should wear a nice sandwich board advertising my wares which would have the advantage of me not needing to make contact with the iron or the starch.
As I've quoted before, "A woman's work is never delegated."
Comments (), Permalink, Posted: Wed 14:07 CDT
Deployment is imminent
I try hard not to let my coding skills go to my head, but some days I marvel. I wrote some software primarily for me to use for blogging. Natzoid saw the interface a few nights ago and commented that it would be ideal for her work to use if I could wangle it. Well, I sat down this morning to try to shoe-horn it into a usable form for them and bugger me if it only took me an hour. That's because when I first wrote it, I wrote it sensibly and even if I do say so myself, cleverly. When her new web-site goes live, it will take me less than an hour to move all the clever-cleverness over to their domain and then they can use it live. In fact, I could automate the whole thing, but that is for another day. I have a CSV export to write. Isn't PHP a wonderful thing?
Comments (), Permalink, Posted: Wed 11:12 CDT
29th June 2004
Wayne and Waynetta Slob
Here at yatsecentral headquarters, we're starting to resemble Wayne and Waynetta. Our washing machine broke a while ago, and Natzoid had taken to visiting something called a laundrette/laundromat (don't ask me, I have no idea what one of those is.) While the grandparental unit was here, we have been even more lazy with respect to domestic chores than usual which has resulted in the The Mother of All Laundry Collections™. Well, we couldn't just let her sit around while we did laundry, could we? I imagine there are socks down there that are breeding and that this will explain why there will be odd ones when we finally get the damned washer fixed or buy a new one (yeah, very likely at the moment bozo.)
I'm thinking mullets and burberry here? What say you?
Comments (), Permalink, Posted: Tue 11:37 CDT
Yatecentral goes all commercial
Having duly debated putting up a semi-permanent link to Steve's book, I have landed in favor of doing so. OK, so I was guilted by his last post. We bought our copy and it's a quality laugh despite being littered with American pop-culture references that are completely lost on me. UK people, just think $12.55 is like what nowadays? £3? I think anyone who tries to earn a buck or two on their own deserves some pimping.
On that very subject, I must say thanks to Rita for pimping my development services over at Curmudgeonly and Skeptical. Here's to hoping.
Comments (), Permalink, Posted: Tue 11:13 CDT
28th June 2004
The day after
Well, that was unpleasant. The kids have had four weeks of being babied by my grandmother so today was an unadulterated nightmare. Nic spent the day screaming. Zoe spent the day asking for glasses of water, taking a sip and then pitching the rest away. We are NEVER even going to THINK about more kids. EVER. PERIOD.
The whole mellee (which is different to a Melly) was accented nicely by a nice stomach ache that had me popping in and out of the smallest room all bloody day.
I spoke to Die Ubermeister for a while who had returned safely. I half expected a call from my mother chastising our house-keeping. I had a fully prepared response detailing how the two youngest are the cause of all the mess and as fast as you can pick it up, it reappears. That compounded with dogs stealing things from the garbage and liberating Iraq diapers. The call never came. She must be saving it for another day.
Ah well, if we can get the kids to bed at a reasonable hour tonight, we might finally get to have some fun. Nudge, nudge, wink, wink. And by that, of course, I mean get the cards out for some knock Euchre. Or do I? No. I mean get the scrabble out. Take that as you will.
Note to self: remember first paragraph conclusion.
Comments (), Permalink, Posted: Mon 17:24 CDT
27th June 2004
Random crap and bustings out
While chatting with BNUG on MSN, we got onto the subject of tattoos. Natzoid has an American Indian symbol on her upper right arm. I have none. Needles you know, not to mention career prospects. Anyway, BNUG has a friend who has a tattoo on his leg that is the barcode from Theakston's Old Peculiar. Naturally being geekamundocentral that I am, I, without really thinking, ask is it a 2D code or a linear code 39? How many people would gut-react that way? Only me. Which got us onto how fecking dweeby I am:
BNUG: "My mate Kenny in the States knows all about barcodes......so I'll take that as a 'No, I won't sleep with you' then, shall I?"
I declared this to be the new definitive chat-up line for the new millenium. I would welcome any suggestions of other contenders.
Also, while I'm here, I would just like to bust out the Missus. She is currently sat laughing her proverbial socks off at her own archives. Me, I'm shaking my head in disgust while trying to think of a clever way to invent something that will mow your lawn for you while also being capable of reading linear AND 2D barcodes. Now that would be sweet.
More randomness from yesterday when we took Die Ubermeister to the Mall of America. It's well known that I am not a fan of Joe Public. The MOA contains said people in droves. Immensely fat people in hip and belly revealing clothing, teenagers with spiked mohawks, teenage girls who would be more at home working the streets of Harehills and those bloody people (who don't have brake lights fitted) who just randomly bloody stop. God, I hate people.
To add insult to the injury that was me being in the MOA, I turned around while walking to check on how far the missus and Nic were behind me and was accused of mee-mawing (US translation - being lecherous towards) some 12 year old. OK Missus, one, I was not even aware of anyone else's presence (I pretend the world doesn't exist at times) and two, a TWELVE year old? You're a sick puppy. Now that eighteen year old. Just kidding...
Tomorrow, I intend working on Natzoid's company software. A nice bit of PHP for breakfast eh?
OK, could I get any more disjointed? Watch this space.
Comments (), Permalink, Posted: Sun 17:08 CDT
Die Ubermeister has left the building
I am not afraid to say I cried like a little girl. Natzoid and I both bawled like babies. We'll all miss her greatly. Very, very sad. Still, it serves me right for moving continents. Now I need to get my arse in gear so we can save to go see her. I regret using my airmiles on business class upgrades on short trips over to Europe. Rather than arrive and go straight into work, I should have taken a day to recover and gone cattle class with the rest of you dirtbags. If I hadn't squandered them, I'd have had over 600,000 miles. Hindsight is 20-20.
I am pretty sure she enjoyed her stay. I know we did. Her mission was to give me to some moral support which she accomplished completely. Although I must say, her leaving will be a bit of a blow to me. Dang, I'm all teared up again now.
Comments (), Permalink, Posted: Sun 14:26 CDT
26th June 2004
Bizarro
There is nothing more mind-bogglingly outrageous than wearing a tie on a Saturday.
"Why is this happening?" I hear you scream.
I would reply to you "Pictures."
The maternal Ubermeister departs tomorrow. She will be missed by parents and children alike. I am not looking forward to the aftermath on Monday when the brats children realise she is gone and that Natzoid is at work.
Another life lesson looms. It's not just play-time that ends. All good things do. I don't expect them to understand it. I have never accepted that particular philosophy. That's why I was very often to be found asleep in nightclubs.
Smile now. Say "Cheese."
Comments (), Permalink, Posted: Sat 14:14 CDT
25th June 2004
Science
The other night, while smoking a fine Marlboro, I had one of those smokers' accidents when for some mystery of physics, your cigarette sticks to you and you end up burned in random places. Typically these things occur when your cigarette gets stuck to your lips. My incident was a rarity in that the glowing bugger in question got stuck to my fingers.
I am now the proud owner of two blisters the size of dimes on my left hand fingers.
In order to capitalize on my misfortune for the greater good, I have performed some experiments. They say never cover a burn. Well my altruistic side wanted to test this theory so I covered one and left one open to the elements.
First, let me advise readers to never get a burning tab stuck on your fingers. Second, if you do, do NOT pop the blister; it will make a horrendous noise and squirt your glasses and cheek, or eyes and cheek depending on your eye-sight.
So, anyway, to the thrust (ooeerr missus.) Well, the blister that was covered is less painful although bleeding more than the other. The uncovered one looks like I have had acid dropped on my finger.
I have yet to draw any conclusions to this, but I thought I would describe the apparatus and method. Conclusions will come, I'm sure.
Comments (), Permalink, Posted: Fri 14:07 CDT
Grease is not the Word
I hate grease of all kinds, unless it is that tasty stuff. I cannot stand getting my hands oily or soapy. It's just wrong and horrible and vile beyond measure. This is why I occasionally get sun-burned.
However what I hate more than that is trying to rinse childrens' fingers free of said disgusting gloop. Nic just picked up some dog muck in the back yard. Yes I know. I should have been out there picking it up - bite me. In he comes and what is my parental instinct? Hold his hand as he climbs the stairs. Feck. Once I was told of his dog-turd fondling ways, I went into a Monk style scrubbing exercise of him and me. Soap abounded. Water abounded. I wanted to spray 409 Extra Death to Anything all over us, but my grandmother seems to think I am over-reacting. What does she know eh?
Anyway, I am now in that totally undelicious state whereby I can feel the slime of dish-soap on my hands. And I am hating every minute of it. Yack. I may have to counter the nausea with some acerbicity later. We'll see.
Comments (), Permalink, Posted: Fri 13:04 CDT
Why am I awake?
I don't know why but this made me very sad. If the link doesn't work it is because Ananova are idiots. It is a story reporting that Nigel Havers' wife has died of cancer. To only get fifteen years with your spouse seems cruel. I have only known Natzoid for six years but that might as well be six minutes for as quick as the time has gone. My heart goes out to Havers. That must be truly the worst feeling in the world.
And with that, I will once again try to sleep.
Comments (), Permalink, Posted: Fri 06:24 CDT
24th June 2004
Sorry
But the feckwit who just called Five Live and said that Beckham was our problem should be shot.
I will kill someone tonight.
Comments (), Permalink, Posted: Thu 17:33 CDT
The BASTARDS
Not just Portugal, but Comcast. I paid $25 of my wife's hard earned to watch the game today. And then it died at half time. Calling Comcast, they said that they were sorry and that they would credit my account. It's all their fault. The BASTARDS.
My good friend BNUG provided the commentary that Comcast couldn't. He was at least thirty seconds ahead of Alan Green. And so I knew what was happening before the BBC told me.
And to add insult to injury, my mother has just called and told me that Beckham was crap.
How much more do we need to take? That should have been a goal. I didn't see it but I believe it. Believe me when I say that I will be suing people and crying for a long time. Life is fucking cruel.
Comments (), Permalink, Posted: Thu 16:51 CDT
You want to hear angry?
At this moment in time, I would crucify your first-born. The twats at Comcast lost the signal during half-time. After I had paid $25 for the game.
"Oh, we'll credit your account for the inconvenience."
Not the fucking point lady. England are playing Portugal NOW. While I sit waiting for your crap-assed organization to let me see what I paid $25 to see. I tell you, the bloody rep could have been Mother Theresa herself; had she been in front of me, I would have bitch-slapped her into next year.
First half commentary will appear when I have calmed down.
This is not the way things are meant to be.
Comments (), Permalink, Posted: Thu 15:05 CDT
Waster's work is never done
Well, another day and another England match. The hell I put myself through as an England supporter is endless. The post-match commentary will be available about 30 minutes after the game, God and Stella Artois willing.
Comments (), Permalink, Posted: Thu 11:28 CDT
23rd June 2004
At last
Our nextdoor neighbors are civilized. When we baked scones the other day, I gave them some to try. They have just returned the favor by giving us some of their home made bread, still warm from the oven.
Lordy, I may be antisocial in the extreme but you cannot beat a North Dakota grandmother who is of Native American Indian ancestry's bread. A joy.
It's nice to have real neighbors and not just pseudo-people.
Comments (), Permalink, Posted: Wed 14:41 CDT
Roller coasters are us
Every now and again, when I think of my current circumstance, abject panic sets in. And even though it is virtually all-consuming, I can still laugh. Chatting with BNUG yesterday, I realised that my sense of humor is preserved by my missus. We had a conversation while walking round the zoo on Sunday that could not be transcribed to bloggage but that made every bone in my body outright guffaw. It could never be done justice in print and 99% of people, had they overheard it, would not find it even slightly amusing. But bugger me if it didn't remind me that I'm a lucky man. How many men can talk to their wives about extreme golf using masturbating monkeys, tigers and elephants as hazards without being commited to a loony-ward?
Comments (), Permalink, Posted: Wed 10:45 CDT
Muchos hilarity
Sorry to people who know neither of the following names but this is just too good to not snigger at.
Tony Blackburn, mmm nice, has been suspended from the BBC for playing Cliff Richard records. And that's not the best of it...during Wimbledon. While it's raining.
Could it be any more side-splitting? I don't think physics would allow it.
Comments (), Permalink, Posted: Wed 10:31 CDT
Ma peeps
According to a report on Ananova (which I will not link to on the basis that the link would be broken in seconds due to their total feckwittedness) bookies reckon that 9 million people will pull a "sickie" on Friday of this week, the day after the England match. That's damned near 20% of the population. I don't know whether to be disgusted or proud.
The day that United won the Champions' League in 1999, I got absolutely paralytic. I took the afternoon off work and sat drinking Boddingtons watching the match. After the breath-taking finish I drank wine as I chatted on the computer and phone with various United fans around the globe. It lasted well into the early hours.
But, and it's a big but, I was still at work the following morning. I was sat in a meeting wearing an entirely inappropriate United shirt that meant nothing to anyone in the room, talking about statistical analysis with people who had no idea about (a) the significance of the win and (b) statistics.
The point is that I turned up and did not pull a sickie.
On the other hand, I can sympathize. England, as a footballing nation, need something to cling to. Since 1966, we've been dealt some shattering blows whether they have come from the cheating son of a bitch Maradonna or lack-lustre performances. We need a win.
As I have said before, we're masochists. Football is exquisite torture that has us drunk with delight and then crying in our cornflakes (if we can stomach them). In just over 30 hours, I will be glued to the box again, begging the Gods for victory, feeling every emotion available to man. In order to maintain some continuity, I may have to give the kids something exciting to play with for 90 minutes (maybe matches?). OK, I could just just stick them out in the yard with my grandmother. This match is still a day away and already I can feel the tension.
Anyway, ma peeps, are you throwing a sickie Friday? Answers on a postcard please. Or you could just leave a comment; it's cheaper and I might even read it.
Comments (), Permalink, Posted: Wed 09:01 CDT
22nd June 2004
Bizarre
Have you any idea how weird it is to talk to your step-daughter on AIM? Last time I looked, she couldn't read and now she's being all witty like her mother. It just goes to prove evolutionary theory...and that means that she needs to leave now. I'm not having yet another smart-arse in the house.
Comments (), Permalink, Posted: Tue 16:57 CDT
Cake recipe - finally
Alright. I know there have been UN resolutions passed that mandate I document the mother of all cakes so I will reluctantly comply. Stupid UN.
Preheat oven to 300. Mix 4 oz of butter with 6 oz of plain flour and a 1/2 teaspoon of sugar. Massage lightly until it looks like breadcrumbs. Mix in an egg and knead into a dough. If it's looking too dry, add a little water. Grease a 6"x12" dish, roll out pastry and line the dish. Place the shortcrust in to bake for 20 minutes. Extract from oven and coat the pastry with jam of choice.
Peel and slice a couple of large apples. Place the apples on top of the jam. Add raisins to taste.
Weigh 3 eggs (4 if they are small) and then get the same weight of self-raising flour and the same again of sugar. Mix the sugar and 2 oz butter to a cream. Add the eggs and beat until smooth. Mix in the seived flour a little at a time and beat until smooth and creamy. Pour the resulting gloop on top of the apples/raisins and slam into the oven for 25 mins at 300 or until it browns (use a knitting needle to check whether it is done.)
Try it now or your DVT will never recur again. And yes, Steve, you may add some lard and tart it up a bit.
I still hate the UN though.
Comments (), Permalink, Posted: Tue 16:20 CDT
21st June 2004
England 4 - Croatia spanked
OK, we knew what the result had to be after the national anthems. The only anthem more dirge-like than our own.
A commendable performance. However once again there were weak moments and performances.
The first Croatian goal? Set-piece, cough. A decent keeper would have been on top of that and would have held it. The second Croatian goal? More or less a set-piece. I hate to have to agree with Peter Reid on account of his being a scouser and all, but that back post was more open than a Off License in Keighley. Michael Owen was his usual self though. Good to know that our prized striker is always a yard shorter than the previous time. I had visions of him being sat in the crowd by the end of the game. Which is where he should be.
I was more impressed with the Croatian keeper than James which is going some seeing he let in four goals.
Rooney though? Rooney? Say it with me now. ROONEY. You knew both his were going in. The man may be a scouser but Jesus H son of a Biscuit Christ, there is hope in this life.
I'd have personally prefered Greece (cough, Ronaldo, cough) but Portugal will do.
One last bit of punditry. Nice shades Posh.
Comments (), Permalink, Posted: Mon 16:00 CDT
On a lighter note
I spent Father's day at the zoo. Someone told me it was all happening there.
I had intended to make a buck or two by charging people to watch me masturbate wildly and to throw my poop at them but apparently the monkeys are union guys so that was out. Instead, I had to pretend to be a viewer despite my urges to climb trees and bare my arse.
Word to the squirrels in Dakota county: the tigers may be fed regularly but having a jaunt around their little compound is no thing for a tasty squirrel to be doing on a Sunday afternoon.
All in all, very pleasant although I always feel cheated when I go to a zoo and don't see lions or elephants. They are the very staples of what a zoo is.
Oh, and the hot-dogs sucked. As did the extortionate Leinenkugels Amber Water. Not to worry, at least it didn't rain.
Comments (), Permalink, Posted: Mon 09:01 CDT
As if we needed a reminder
Call me a jingoistic Western hot-head but this is not acceptable. When you're a loon, it is best to keep it to yourself lest it be discovered and the appropriate action is taken. Woe betide Iran if they don't come up with a good reason for this. Idiots.
Comments (), Permalink, Posted: Mon 08:29 CDT
20th June 2004
Now tell me she is not gorgeous
Look at this:
Doesn't it make your heart melt?
Comments (), Permalink, Posted: Sun 02:21 CDT
19th June 2004
Not a chick-flick
If you haven't seen Calendar Girls, stop what you are doing now and go to your video store or look at the pay per view titles. Absolutely bloody hilarious. Without question one of the best films I have seen in an eternity.
Kirk out.
Comments (), Permalink, Posted: Sat 13:58 CDT
18th June 2004
Sad day
My Great Aunt Ann, mother of the The Oddy, passed away at 17:00 BST today from old age. She was 92. The world has simultaneously lost the sharpest wit, most acid tongue and its main consumer of gin. She will be sorely missed by all of those who have come under scrutiny. She put the eccentric in eccentricity.
Comments (), Permalink, Posted: Fri 16:01 CDT
Apparently I'm a pundit
It appears that I am a pundit at last. Fame, fortune and something else beginning with F (probably flatulence not fornication knowing my luck) await. First off, I am BNUG's Euro 2004 pundit and secondly, I am a scone pundit.
What else should I be a pundit of? Strawberries? Choke. That was awful.
In keeping with my delusions of grandeur, I will take this opportunity to say that Sven needs his bumps felt. He's talking about starting with the same line-up for the match against Croatia. How many times do I have to say that Michael Owen couldn't hit a cow's arse with a banjo. Not even on Mars:
Any excuse eh? Now if only I could find a picture of David James making a save or Heskey standing up.
Comments (), Permalink, Posted: Fri 13:06 CDT
Happy Bidet
While I'm here, the Wart is 36 today. Happy birthday you old bugger. You are still a year older than me and always will be. I hope the fairies bring you lots of wine-berry juice and that the Benson and Hedges are plentiful.
Comments (), Permalink, Posted: Fri 09:36 CDT
Va te fait en...
More terminal whining as the French and German leaders try to erode any kind of independent thought by inflicting a European constitution. Call me xenophobic (I'm not, I like the people of most countries, I just hate their governments) but I could not subscribe to a constitution that mandated that flight controllers strike twice a year at peak travel times, that lunch must last a minimum of two hours and that bananas be of the approved shape. Is it just me or is a Europe led by General Von Klinkerhoffen and Rene Artois just a tad tasteless? It makes for great comedy but not great government.
Comments (), Permalink, Posted: Fri 09:33 CDT
17th June 2004
A little better
Well, what can I say? Michael Owen has justified his position as a striker in the England squad. Not. One decent ball all game. It's a good job we had the Russian referee playing for us and that he decided to even things up to both sides only having ten men by sending Haas off needlessly. And what the hell was that [single] Owen shot? My eighteen month old son has a better right foot than that. Owen cannot start the next game; he is a luxury we cannot afford.
Thank God Heskey didn't grace us with his presence.
I'm starting to wonder if David James ever moves for set-pieces. Once again he stood there like a deer in the headlights. And what the hell was he thinking when he came out for a ball that wouldn't be his in a million years or an alternative universe?
To those critics of El Grande Capitan, I say that Beckham had a very good game today and he didn't half cover some ground. The star of the show though, once again, was Rooney. Top notch game.
Finally, a comment on the third goal. Yes, we were a man up. Yes, it was hot. Yes, the Swiss were tired. But the build up to that goal was fantastic. I'd like to see it again so I could count how many passes were strung together prior to the ball hitting the back of the net. I would guess around twenty. Reminscent of Leeds in the early 1970s. It was a good finish by Gerrard; the ball was not at the most convenient angle for him and if he hadn't got exactly the right angle, that could have gone past the left post very easily.
Not a completely convincing performance but a good result none the less. Well done lads.
Comments (), Permalink, Posted: Thu 13:27 CDT
16th June 2004
Cake in the oven
No. Natzoid is not pregnant again. Well, she'd better not be. I have just watched my grandmother make the mother of all cakes. It is in the oven as we speak. I have transcribed the recipe to paper. If it works out, I will post it here...fingers crossed. I'd take a picture but someone took off with my beloved Fuji.
Update: It is absolute heaven. I'll post it here later. It's tough typing with cake in your hands.
Comments (), Permalink, Posted: Wed 14:54 CDT
I'm about as unfit as I can be
Without being dead. You know the gas station down by the Italian place? Yes? You know how it seems much closer than Target or the other gas station by Chanticlear's pizza? Yes? Well let me tell you, it isn't.
My legs have blood flowing through them from cycling. My lungs are burning so badly I can barely smoke. If this is what needs to be done to get healthy, I'm with Oscar Wilde...I'd do anything to regain my youth except get up early or take exercise.
Comments (), Permalink, Posted: Wed 12:15 CDT
15th June 2004
Disappointment
Bugger. They're putting the band back together. And once again they have not contacted me. Not content with stealing my high-school girlfriends Slime on the bum Simon LeBon and Co. are making a new album to steal my wife now. I know what they are up to. They all want wife upgrades now their own spouses are above 40. Bastards. It's not a rock'n'roll precedent by any means, but it is depraved and cunning.
Bastards all. Next thing I know The Singing Marshmallow Brian Ferry will be reforming Roxy Music. Still, at least he got his come-uppance when his metaphorical missus ran off with picture of youth Mick Jagger. Stupid Mick Jagger.
Well if anyone is going to reform anything, it should be Japan. And I am going to change my name to David Sylvian. I've now been to Japan, China, Berlin etc. so I am way more qualified to talk on the subject.
This post has been brought to you by a melon meeting a collie somewhere around 1983. Before stupid jobs and mortgages were even a consideration. Sing it with me now. "Cantonese boy, bang your tin drum."
Oh, and you can keep Jerry Hall. I'm still in love with Clare Grogan.
Comments (), Permalink, Posted: Tue 16:37 CDT
14th June 2004
Advice required
OK peeps, some input is required here. I reserve the right to value it or cast it aside for the useless uniformed drivel that it must be if I disagree. I've started work on a website for design@yatescentral and would like some feedback on the site. Would that my business plan were so advanced. It's lacking in content at the moment, but it does have a general vibe happening.
Those that saw the earlier post today (scroll down monkeys) will recognise the picture of my butterfly plant (the latin is something completely non-memorizable.) I played around with it in what I have come to lovingly refer to as Das Gimp.
Anyway, go here and tell me your dreams. Also, if you are so inclined, you can start pimping my services or, indeed, using them. Nota Bene - friends get discounts at the discretion of Da Management™.
Be nice or I'll ban your IP. And then I'll send my grandmother round to criticize your cooking. You have been warned.
Comments (), Permalink, Posted: Mon 19:26 CDT
Deck the deck
And today's manic obsessive pictures:
I likes me a bit of color.
Comments (), Permalink, Posted: Mon 11:37 CDT
13th June 2004
Mark my words
When I'm right, I'm right. What did I say about Michael Owen? We might as well have been playing with 10 men until he went off. Heskey came on and couldn't remain upright or for that matter keep anyone else upright (cough, free kick, cough.) David James is a bloody donkey although he did have some moments where he looked like he had seen a football before.
I said the back and midfield looked OK. It was the forwards and keeper who were dodgy. And so it was. The backs deserve a pat on the back. Gerrard was excellent. Rooney was fantastic.
So how did it end 2-1? Three names for you: James, Heskey and Owen. Leave them all out for the next game Sven or I'll send Ulrika round to pick up her CDs.
Pathetic. Given away.
Comments (), Permalink, Posted: Sun 15:42 CDT
A thought...
I wonder whether I can rig the TV such that it is visible from the deck? Wouldn't that be sweeter than sweet? Sunshine, football, Stella Artois, all at the same time. Damn I'm so good at being decadent. Which reminds me, I should check the Powerball tickets.
Comments (), Permalink, Posted: Sun 09:58 CDT
Those were the days
I was just checking out some match stats:
Date Comp Res
01 Nov 1906 Friendly France 0-15 England*
23 Mar 1908 Friendly England* 12-0 France
22 May 1909 Friendly France 0-11 England*
16 Apr 1910 Friendly England* 10-1 France
One has to question the defense in that 1910 game. Otherwise, it makes me feel all warm inside:
Games Won Drawn Lost GF GA
France 35 7 5 23 38 128
England 35 23 5 7 128 38
PS - Is it wrong to be totally freaked out by your daughter? Zoe just sneaked up at the side of me and made me jump out of my skin. Creepy.
Comments (), Permalink, Posted: Sun 08:34 CDT
Three lions on my shirt
Four years ago, Natzoid, the Bean and I were in Paris. We arrived the night that France won Euro 2000. As the taxi weaved its way through the Parisian streets, there was an almighty resonating collective cheer from every direction. Natzoid was startled and quite un-nerved. I knew what it meant.
After checking into the hotel, we ambled up through the madness that was a nation in ecstasy to Montmartre where a sea of blue shirts and chanting French chanteurs were celebrating their win. The wine flowed, stuffed cockerels painted in the tricolor were waved. Insane exuberation abounded.
I bought a French football shirt en route back to the UK. I haven't worn it for over twelve months for obvious reasons. I will not be wearing it today for even more obvious reasons.
Four years ago, Zoe was barely five months old and at that painful stage where she needed to be attended to every second. Last night, as I sat outside with her babbling her head off, amongst the lunacy, I detected the phrase "my sister Lori." If you can imagine falling off a deck-chair, I metaphorically did it.
"Your what?"
"My sister Lori who lives in England."
[gulp]
It's not that I have hidden the fact that Zoe has a sister in England. It is just that yesterday, Lori was finally told that she has a brother and sister in the US. It had been hidden from her. Strange that on the same day, both my daughters thought of each other.
I've no doubt that Lori will not have been parented in the ways of the football fan. The passion will not have been nurtured. I dare say that she won't even bat an eyelid if les Bleus stick it to the England team. Shame.
Four years, a new baby boy, another lost World Cup, lost job. And just as it has done, so it will continue. This afternoon, I will press the button to pay the $19.95 to watch England play France (while pretending it is free) and once more, 90 minutes of agony will ensue. The football fan is a strange beast. They are akin to willing torture victims. The pain may be intense and endless, but the excitement of the adrenalin rush and prospect of ultimate pleasure pervade their brains.
All my kids have been born in significant football years. Lori was born in Euro 1996. Zoe was born in Euro 2000. Nic was born in World Cup 2002. I would have loved it if Nic had been born in the year England won the World Cup. How sweet would that be?
I have no idea where this is going. I guess it's a combination of a few things that are very important to me, a combination of a stream of consciousness (I hate those) and pre-match jitters. Suffice to say that come kick-off, I'll be a basket case of nervous energy with the TV on full blast, beer in hand and three lions on my shirt, wishing I was in Portugal and ignoring the rest of the world.
Comments (), Permalink, Posted: Sun 07:39 CDT
12th June 2004
Angela Rippon awarded CBE
Anyone else think of the bathroom door when the plague is in town?
Sorry that was just wrong.
Comments (), Permalink, Posted: Sat 14:23 CDT
11th June 2004
Dog's life
In an unprecedented shock story, I have had to enter the kitchen for a second time in one day. And no, it was not for beer. We have run out of dog food and Natzoid is out. I have prepared the dogs macaroni with tuna. They will worship me.
I too will worship me seeing that there will be no tinned tuna in the house. The only good tuna is made into Sashimi. The rest is complete pants. Particularly the crap they stuff into cans. I can't believe people eat that. I almost feel bad giving it to the dogs.
Comments (), Permalink, Posted: Fri 20:15 CDT
Newsflash
Jesus H Christ. My grandmother has just given me a 10 out of 10 for my shepherd's pie. I need to call Norris McWhirter. Bugger, he is dead now. Who is his successor? Damn, someone call the pope or something.
I will now email my mother and gloat.
Comments (), Permalink, Posted: Fri 17:45 CDT
I can feel my bandwidth dripping away
I'm not obsessive. You got that?
Shut up.
Comments (), Permalink, Posted: Fri 16:38 CDT
Short memories
The UK local election results are starting to roll in. Do you people who voted not have memories? On the day they wheel (figuratively as well as really) Thatcher out to talk about Ronnie, could there be a more timely reminder of what the Tories did for the country? I think not. The grass is never greener. Let's hope the collective memory loss is only temporary; Michael Howard is no more fit to run the country than John Major was.
Jesus, I am depresssed today.
Comments (), Permalink, Posted: Fri 09:53 CDT
10th June 2004
This episode brought to you by the letter W
W is for Wisconsin. It is also for "wet" which is no coincidence. We drove to Wisconsin yesterday once the rain had stopped. The thing is it hadn't there. The further East we got, the bleaker the landscape became, to the point that we could hardly see the St Croix river as we crossed it. Another coincidence is that the term washout begins with W and describes exactly what the trip was. Whatever. Nevermind.
We gave up on the trip and went to pick Natzoid up from work and hit the Japanese restaurant. Mmm. Sashimi. This time I tried the full monty; salmon, tuna, octopus, squid etc.. Marvellous. Even Der Fuhrer was impressed.
In other news, my lobellia has sprouted. Ooerr missus. However thus far this year, I have not fiddled with any clematis. I dunno. Call it depression if you must. I have developed another addiction too; I compulsively photograph my plants, like they are long lost relatives at a family reunion. Strange.
I overslept for a damned appointment this morning. Not by my usual couple of minutes. By four hours. I now have the joy of calling and apologising. How humiliating. Hate that.
Off to trundle around the news web-sites and find something to deride; I haven't been doing nearly enough of that recently. And I feel a press release coming on. Lordy, lordy. A waster's work is never done.
Comments (), Permalink, Posted: Thu 12:54 CDT
8th June 2004
I'm addicted
To pots of flowers.
Bloody gorgeous or what?
Comments (), Permalink, Posted: Tue 15:26 CDT
7th June 2004
Ronnie
Couple O'Thangs. Ronald Reagan was not a God. Neither was he the devil incarnate. His dying is not a cause for celebration or a reason to award him a sainthood. He suffered and then died as all men do. Is it really necessary to hijack all the news channels? And here was I thinking that the Princess Di coverage was a lot over the top.
And what's with them playing God Save The Queen?
Comments (), Permalink, Posted: Mon 15:29 CDT
Season debut
It's that time of year again. Last night, I got my first mosquito bites of the year. My left ankle now resembles one of Hillary Clinton's. My right foot looks like something Inspector Gadget would use to club to death a wilderbeast. Anti-hystamines do not work. Nothing stops the itching and I become the elephant man. I have scars from previous years where my arms inflated to double their normal size due to the little bastards. It almost makes me want to volunteer some of my plants deaths due to frost for the greater good of humanity (well, me.)
Die ubermeister has the stamina of an ox. We went walk-about yesterday around Anoka and the Rum River dam. While der fuhrer was grumbling about the variety of postcards available, I was lusting after God's own computer desk in one of the Amish stores. OMG, you should see it; it is absolutely heavenly. If ever I get my arse into gear on the business side of things, this will be one of my first purchases.
Speaking of which, Natzoid demo'd my software to her people on Friday and found three bugs. How bloody humiliating. They were all school-boy errors and in total it took me about 10 minutes to fix them but all the same, I hate it when my code is sloppy to the point that I need to fix things that should not have been a problem in the first place. What annoys me most is that the complicated code such as the fuzzy match that I wrote to stop people from entering duplicate contacts works like a dream yet the simple stuff had bugs. I suppose that will teach me to pay attention all the time rather than just when I think something is hard.
Along those lines, I am very pleased with my fuzzy match code. I know; there is nothing hard about string manipulation but there is a tremendous sense of satisfaction to be gained from stopping people replicating near identical entries in a contact list. I liken it to good customer service. If you can stop people from doing something daft whether that daftness is involuntary or not, you are raising the game. Microsoft tried it with the Office Assistant but failed because it was too in your face. The first thing that any power-user does is disable that crap as it tries to hold your hand through such complicated tasks as pasting some text. Their problem is that they knew they had written some clever code and so advertised it. In reality, that clever code should be transparent; users don't want to know how clever you are, just that the software they are using does sensible things when they err.
Man, have I gone off topic or what?
OK, I'll stop before this gets to be a Yates on Software exercise. But before I do, have I mentioned that I hate mozzies? Well I do. If you see me and mistake me for a better-looking Hillary Clinton, please do not wolf-whistle at me. It makes me blush.
Comments (), Permalink, Posted: Mon 09:10 CDT
6th June 2004
Quick update
Well my little petite-pois, blogging is tough when you have a regime to adhere to. You vill do zis at zis time mein kleine kartoffel. Und at zis time, du mochst essen die wurst und der kraut. Der brot ist gut aber der butter ist sehr sweet.
Seriously though, she has been nowhere as bad as my mum and dad alleged she would be. The kids love her and she has been a great with them. My parents were way too soft with their childrens' behavior which is why I ended up such a fruitcake whereas meine grossmater's view on things is very much aligned with mine and Natzoid's. Der ist nicht bessinger kinder hier mein lieblings.
Of course, we have tailored our diet (cough, splutter, cough) to cater for the Germanic taste. We have been eating more kraut and wurst than you can eat in an Atkins lifetime, but it bothers me not.
Die ubermeister is fairly content to walk the dogs with me, potter around the deck planting things and relate tales of her childhood in Austria. I am enjoying her company and it certainly keeps me on the straight and narrow. Aside for those interested -- I have more colors than I can visually cope with on that deck at the moment -- a sight for sore eyes -- I will post pictures soon.
Tomorrow, the missus and the kids are going watching the new Harry Potter film which means that Fred and I can go walk or drive-about. I must confess that the anarchist in me thought about taking her downtown to see the sixty beautiful girls and one ugly one, but I think we'll just hit a lake or a tea-room somewhere.
Speaking of which, can you imagine being just shy of eighty and never having tried Sashimi? Is that testament to all that is wrong with the world or what? We'll take her there soon.
She's a funny old bird. She never raves about anything, no matter how much she likes it, yet she will pick up on the smallest detail that she doesn't approve of and labor it no end. I guess when/if I am that age, I'll have earned the right to be as judgemental as I like.
I've never said this before here I don't think, but the majority of my childhood days were spent with her and my grandfather while my parents worked. Very, very good times indeed. She has a cake recipe that I love; as a child, I would eat a whole bloody great cake in under ten minutes; she is about to pass on the recipe and I cannot wait to see the kids' faces (and Natzoid's) when they taste the heaven that dictated my early years. And even though she thought that the goulash she made the other night was not up to snuff, I have to disagree (incidentally, for Leythers, goulash is nowt but lobby with paprika and some wurst.) My grandparents were the product of the second world war; he a soldier, she an ammunitions worker. How strange to be either side of the fence. My grandfather was a terminal gambler whereas my grandmother is a terminal penny-pincher. So when I look back on cricket bats and tennis, I remember my grandfather more. But you know who fed me? And fed me very well? My grandmother.
I love the old dear. A sure sign of humanity is to be able to appreciate these things. It may be hard work, but hell, am I enjoying myself with her. It's like being a kid again except that I can prove what she taught me has stuck.
Never under-appreciate your grandparents. Even if it does mean a high-fat diet. On second thoughts, appreciate them for their common sense and ability to see a good sausage when they see one.
If you are in the Twin Cities and want to see a living legend, you know where to go. I'm so tired with trying to outlast her before going to bed that I can barely type. I get the feeling that this might be light for a while, although I will take some pictures of the deck if only to show you some new plants that I had never heard of.
Comments (), Permalink, Posted: Sun 01:03 CDT
3rd June 2004
Alien object reported in sky over Minneapolis
The sun has shown its face. Good thing. However we have an enemy:
That uses foul weapons, bad thing:
We at yatescentral, will stand firm in our resolve to rid the world of these obscene weapons with the help of our allies:
We will be victorious. The war on maples will be swift, true and just. We need no UN backing.
Comments (), Permalink, Posted: Thu 13:01 CDT
Feckety-feck
I have been reticent to allude to any job applications that are running parallel to my wanting to start up alone on the basis that every time I mention something that is in my true field of expertise, it gets jinxed. Thankfully, I have now disproved that theory by not mentioning an opportunity here that was directly relevant to my skills and by unceremonially failing to acquire said job. I applied to a chap who I know profesionally through various industry round-table discussions and the presentation circuit. He's primarily a bean-counter who can present whereas I'm a techie who can present on a good day.
On the times that we met, I wiped the floor with him simply because I fundamentally know more details about vision than he does. As I applied I wondered whether this would be a good thing or a bad thing. I could be viewed as an asset or I could be viewed as a vile foe who delighted in humiliating all but one of his organization when it came to the matter at hand.
It turns out that neither appeared to play a part. Instead, the reason for their denial was that on one occasion where we were matched, I was a little nervous initially when speaking to a room full of unknown engineers. One occasion. And I remember it well. It was in Boston about April of last year and I was wrong-footed by the format of the discussion so had to think on my feet, which as I have explained before, is not my forte. Preparation is key. I was nervy for the first few minutes and then got back into the swing of things when my mental strategy had been carefully considered. And once again, I wiped the floor with him.
Of course that is not the official reason he gave. The official reason was that I didn't have enough experience. Right. Not enough experience. I haven't really done everything from marketing to sales to application engineering to support to, on occasion, development of vision systems. Not enough experience, my arse.
This little anecdote brings to mind a little ditty that Natzoid sings which doubles as a rule to live by. Be nice to our fine feathered friends for that duck may be somebody's mother.
Still, at least I know that the blog is not the jinx. That said, I ain't speaking about anything until it can be refered to in the past tense.
Not enough experience, my arse.
Comments (), Permalink, Posted: Thu 10:47 CDT
2nd June 2004
Nobel prize-winning theory
I have a mad theory. It's wild. I don't know why anyone has not noticed it before.
US viewers will be aware of the commercial for Valtrex, a drug that is alleged to cure genital herpes. They may also have noticed that the young lady in the advert has eyes that glow a luminous and partially reflective electric blue. They are, for want of a better word, completely mad.
Looking through the Valtrex website, I note that the sufferers of this condition tend to be brown eyed women and therefore postulate that the FDA missed a side effect of this drug; that of mad-eye syndrome whereby the pigmentation of the eye becomes such that taking pictures of the eye with a CCD under diffuse lighting renders the image slightly surreal as the too-blueness of the eye draws the viewers fascination so much that they miss the rest of the picture. So it is with that commercial.
So, far from being a genetic lapse, blue eyes are a side-effect of treatment for genital herpes. I will never ever trust anyone with too-blue eyes again. I know they must be carriers of said virus. I will be typing up this conjecture and sending it to the BMA today - I await widespread scientific acclaim for services to non-infected persons all around the world.
Next up: the link between genital herpes, BSE and CJD. I have a few loose ends to tie up on that one.
No, our visitor is not driving me mad in the slightest. Moo.
Comments (), Permalink, Posted: Wed 08:15 CDT
1st June 2004
It has started
Copy of email to parental units:
Apparent favorite childhood sausage not up to snuff at all. White cranberry juice (no added sugar or color) not up to snuff. Thank God we had Lurpak as would not like to have seen reaction to US butter. Can't chew melt-in-the-mouth ribeye but can chew Schnitzelled pork chop (disappointed to find bone in it though - should have been filleted.) American cartons of milk and juice too heavy.
Natzoid out with car at work and weather horrible. Fred "is not used to sitting around all day" which is sadly what happens when the weather is naff - obviously I have to wait until Natzoid gets home to walk the dogs so cannot do that either - Fred demanding to know when Natzoid will get home as if I know what she has going on. Demanded I dress kids so she could walk them up and down the road in the drizzle. Dogs too strong for Fred to walk.
Yesterday fine due to Natzoid being at home and having car and walking dogs in the afternoon rather than evening. Weekdays look like they will be a scream until we get some decent weather.
K
What have I done?
Comments (), Permalink, Posted: Tue 14:53 CDT
