31st May 2004
It's out
You are about to be overweight. Trust me. But at least you will be overweight and laughing. As of today, you can now order Steve H's cook-book. I have heard it said that he will not be able to sign them. Some say this is because of logistics, others that his PO Box number in Cuba is really a money-laundering service while I know the truth to be that the book is printed on grease-proof paper that has been lovingly layered with a thin coating of PAM lard.
Go buy it. It may not be good for you but it will be good for your eternal soul (and Steve's bank balance.) I will be over there as soon as I have drunk at least another gallon of coffee and can focus.
Comments (), Permalink, Posted: Mon 09:45 CDT
30th May 2004
Late flight could start war of attrition
Oh, Nora Batty's undergarments! My grandmother's connecting flight from Chicago to Minneapolis has been cancelled and she's on a later flight. This means I will be subject to a rant about how American airports are infintely inferior to their Germanic counterparts. I just hope they put her in one of the executive lounges and juiced her up on hard liquor...I know she is probably the only member of my family who is tea-total, but a man can hope. Oh, and I also hope that she didn't assault anyone. That would just be embarassing.
Comments (), Permalink, Posted: Sun 14:47 CDT
Doomed
In the name of all that isn't Bert Trumpthwaite of 6, The Risings, Quagmyre Upon Thames, please tell me that I didn't waste all yesterday tinkering with a computer and not doing any cleaning, then only get up at 10:00 - SIX HOURS until arrival. Holy mother of all that isn't Norman Troutbeck of 8, The Fallings, Thames Upon Quagmyre, I did just that.
Bugger. If you don't hear from me again, I have probably been executed by my maternal grandmother for running a sloppy ship.
Comments (), Permalink, Posted: Sun 10:43 CDT
29th May 2004
Random junk
Pathetic. They are both made from the water recovered from restrooms in English pubs. Which reminds me of a small joke-let; what is the definition of an Irish man? Someone who can convert Guinness to lager in under 24 hours.
By the way, I am thinking of building an Ark.
Comments (), Permalink, Posted: Sat 15:07 CDT
When does Euro 2004 start?
It's been a week now. A week since the last football. A whole long, empty and joyless week.
The off-season always used to get to me but this year I feel it's going to be even harder. Must maintain will to live until Euro 2004...
Comments (), Permalink, Posted: Sat 14:16 CDT
28th May 2004
Lordy
Sorry about the previous two posts. I sound like Harold Angryperson. I'm not really ready to nuke, let's say, Croydon. Just perhaps Basingstoke. Oh, and I always have my finger on the button that points at London...just one more reason London, and you get it.
Shut up. I know I should be cleaning. Who are you to tell me that I procrastinate. Quit reading and do some cleaning of your own.
Comments (), Permalink, Posted: Fri 14:25 CDT
Why I love my dogs #233
Using patented Mopsa technology to title this post, I have to say that my dogs are, well, erm, the dog's bollocks. Except that they are female so they can't be. Let's just agree to disagree eh?
The reason they are so stunningly lovable is their fierce defense of the house. Some low-life just knocked on the front door. Sorry mate, I know you are there but you are not wearing a uniform of any kind and you don't look like you've been mugged or are in need of the Heimlich manoeuvre ergo you can stay the other side of that piece of wood. And if you loiter, I will open the door and unleash a couple hundred of pounds of fur at you.
Do these people not read my blog or what? I've mentioned this extensively. They really must be the underclass.
Comments (), Permalink, Posted: Fri 14:00 CDT
Warning - major-league rant ahead
Now I know some people will disagree with me when I describe myself as left of center, but I am. Which is why I get infuriated when I see extreme views on anything. Terminal whining on a single issue drives me nuts. Yes, we know George W President hasn't got the intellect of a small retarded frog but that's not the reason you should oppose him. Oppose him on issues that you have thoroughly thought through. [Man, there are way too many T's H's O's U's and R's in those last three words.]
What brought this little tirade on is not Bill but this piece about Michael Moore. Honest to God. If he had any integrity, he would not have even mentioned this to the press. It's just more (no pun intended) attention seeking from someone whose mother obviously never breast-fed him. All his special brand of delusional social commentary does is push me further to the right as I gape like a ghoul on the pavement, fixated by the gore of a traffic accident. This fruit loop is actually a spineless glory-seeking baboon. If he saw so much wrong in filming his neurotic self-indulgent twaddle, why did he not act to stop it? I'll tell you why. Because he wants to sell his wares and build his reputation for being an anti-establishment spokesperson for an over-privileged generation whose incessant focus on a single issue has mollified them to the point that it must be a pain to wake up.
Are we men or mice? If you see something happening that you feel is wrong, act. Don't just bitch and moan about it. Michael Moore is the kind of person who would walk past someone being beaten to death. Oh yes, and he would probably film it.
Comments (), Permalink, Posted: Fri 12:41 CDT
27th May 2004
Oh God
They just keep flooding in. When was I a ham? And look at them there legs. Gorgeous petal.
I cannot even blame the booze for this. This was way before I was prone to a bevvy. That said, at least I can embarass too.
Comments (), Permalink, Posted: Thu 19:44 CDT
Ode to my apathy
I'm sat on my arse,
Domestic engineering to do
But instead it's a farce
Of searching jobs on Yahoo.
Feed the kids thrice
Then dispense them some candy
And thank God they've a vice -
Equals silence for Kenny.
Their teeth will not thank me
And nor will their mother
As I relinquish control and give them another.
I never liked work,
In fact it was shite.
It takes all self-control
To not go and dynamite
My former employer
Who did what they had to
But I do like the thought
Of them in a crap shoot,
And customers moaning
Of being sold a pup
When in fact I predicted a phenomenal slump.
I've never been schooled
In poetry and verse,
Just occasionally fooled
The establishment purse
Out of dollars and cents
For an editorial first
And some arse-extracted opinion on technology events.
The blog is an outlet,
A creative burst
Of headlines and comments, neither witty nor terse.
So back to the kitchen
Barefoot I walk
And fill another pitcher,
Of cool aid of course.
News is all boring
Or simply quite sad
All wars and deploring
A fight in Bagdhad.
Blogs not updated
With reciprocal reads
Poor me, home-bound, naked and barefeot, with no RSS feeds.
Bloggers are skivers
I think I've decided,
Blog only from work
To not be derided
That their sad little passion
Eats up too much time
They're way out of fashion
And way past their prime.
The sad and the pathetic
Blog from their home
We're just breathing a daytime and hoping for gold.
It started off trying to be funny. Where the hell did it go wrong? Bollocks. Sense of humor transplant required someone. Call 911.
Comments (), Permalink, Posted: Thu 14:55 CDT
Oh bugger revisited
Received via friendsreunited:
--snip--
<name protected to preserve the innocent>@aol.com
Bet you haven't told your wife that you wear girls nighties have you? Came across a photo of you and Chris (I think) in my nightie, taking the mick as usual. You got caught with it on by Sam Hoyle in our bedroom (converted cattle shed) when you should been in your own.
--/snip--
The worrying thing? I remember the trip in question but not the incident.
Comments (), Permalink, Posted: Thu 11:49 CDT
26th May 2004
While I remember
If you mow your lawn diagonally, you're a pretentious fuckwit. And I have no apologies to make; this is a universal truth.
Comments (), Permalink, Posted: Wed 09:41 CDT
Uggh revisited
Many babies born free of HIV are infected by breast feeding -- an estimated 25 percent in some areas. Up to 800,000 babies are infected each year globally.
Sometimes I wish I had talent in chemistry and biology. Unfortunately, I was shite at both.
Comments (), Permalink, Posted: Wed 09:25 CDT
25th May 2004
OMG
If you came here via Steve's blog and are from a leading provider of Windows to Unix integration tools, electronic documents and are based out of Canada (cough, Hummingbird, cough), please email me using the address on the right. I know your company inside out; we used to compete back in the day.
Comments (), Permalink, Posted: Tue 17:30 CDT
Surreality bites
Scene: Yatesy boy's living room, a Tuesday morning.
Nic: owwwwwwwwwwww. urrrrrrrrrrrrr. [Muchos crying]
Me: Zoe what happened?
Zoe: He falled-deded over.
Me: Well let's see. Why don't you give him a kiss? That will make him feel better.
[Zoe kisses him. Screams continue]
Me: OK, now I'll give him a kiss.
[Screams lessen]
Zoe: I bet he'd feel better-er if he had a cookie.
Yes, I bet he would.
Me: Nice try Z-meister.
Comments (), Permalink, Posted: Tue 13:26 CDT
Things that make you go Uggh
Natzoid has just discovered that her organization has lost 30 people in Zimbabwe. The government is killing them. I don't know how I even remember this from being a kid, but I do remember the transition from Rhodesia to Zimbabwe and the battle between Robert Mugabe and Joshua Uncomo for power. Neither looked a suitable candidate at the time and Mugabe has proven without doubt since that he is a murderous tin-pot nutcase of the first order. These thirty people are a small subset of proof of that.
Of course, I can see how distributing food and clothing can threaten your fanatical grip on power. Now let's see. I'm outraged at regimes that kill their own citizens. Which is why I had no problem with invading Iraq. NATO/UN intervened in the former Yugoslavia, in the Sudan etc where civil war was rife but because they did it as NATO/UN, that is fine. No public outcry. The French sent troops into the Ivory Coast, initially a unilateral move. No public outcry. The British did the same with Sierra Leone. No public outcry. See where I am going here? 'Cos these places are not front page news in our Western world of questionable priorities, there is no public gnashing of teeth and wailing.
A lot of the problems in Africa and the Middle East are the fault of colonialism and the West. Pakistan/India, Iraq, Israel/Palestine. Given that the West is the cause of the problems in the first place, they are duty bound to at least attempt to fix them. The sins of the fathers. And America is not off the hook; they are as responsible for the Israeli and Pakistani conflicts as Britain is.
To me, it's a fairly easy decision. If nutjob megalomaniacs kill aid workers or their own citizens, intervention is needed. Yes, it's sad that troops die but they should know the risks when they sign up. Myself, I considered joining the RAF after university. The first Gulf War had just ended and I figured it would be a relatively safe bet for a few years even though nothing is ever a banker. Even with the risks, I considered it. Because I hate seeing the underdog get battered.
All I'm really trying to get at here is two things; let's not confuse the war in Iraq with a two-party political system, and killing people is wrong therefore we must act to stop it.
How the deaths of aid workers around the globe goes mostly unreported should scare the hell out of any decent minded person. Uggh.
Comments (), Permalink, Posted: Tue 11:19 CDT
24th May 2004
Rags to riches
I've spent the day going through a financial model for a small business, making the basic rudiments of a business plan. Hence the silence. My trouble is the amount of cash I would need to start it is too small for venture capitalists to even look at. Unless you want a million dollars in cash and promise them the moon, not to mention your first-born, you're off their radar. According to my plan, I could pay a similar percentage rate of return to what they would expect, it's just the numbers are an order of magnitude too small for their liking.
I'm pretty sure I can line up customers for some of the software that I have written over the past few months and I now have a vicarious network of contacts that can drum up more customers. The nice thing about the software business as opposed to the capital equipment business is that there's not a great deal of raw materials required to make a software product whereas the capital equipment market requires that you shell out on components and manufacturing pretty much before you even smell a customer. Potentially with hardware of the sort I was involved with, it could be a year between paying for the cost of goods and revenuing a system. Just imagine what that does to your cash flow and inventory levels.
So, I think I have a couple of nice niche markets to hit. I just need an individual with a bit of cash to invest and the bottle for it. Come to think of it, I could probably finance it with the equity we have in the house now but who is going to give you a loan based on equity if you have no current income? Bugger. Foiled again. Although it might be worth going talking to the bank. We'll see what Natzoid makes of my numbers; she's the bean-counter.
Comments (), Permalink, Posted: Mon 16:46 CDT
23rd May 2004
Oh merde
As a good friend of mine says, there are excellent reasons that when it comes to engineering, the French imitate noone and noone imitates the French. Un-bloody-believable. And to think I was in that terminal not a few short months ago.
Comments (), Permalink, Posted: Sun 13:50 CDT
Brilliant timing
Am I the only one who is cynical enough to think that now is exactly the right time to be making noises about the UK's view of the US's strategies in Iraq. With the US election just months away and a UK election next Spring, I suspect old Triple Adverb is executing a masterful political plan that will ally himself with whomever occupies the White House in January and that will hopefully get himself re-elected. The timing is perfect and the alleged concerns suitably ambiguous such that they could be glossed over should they need to be. If this is what I think it is, then the clever bugger is more cunning than even I thought.
Comments (), Permalink, Posted: Sun 13:00 CDT
Crap weather makes for good eating
I'm beginning to think that I moved from Manchester where the drizzle is endless, to the Midwest where precipitation in the form of snow or rain is endless. Seriously, there hasn't been a day in the past week or so where the grass has been dry enough to mow it. So our front lawn looks like hell with ten foot dandelions reaching out to strangle passing saturated cyclists; it's a bloody embarassment.
All of this non-deliberate avoidance of yard-work does have a couple of upsides though. Yesterday we headed out to the Sushi bar in Crystal. Now to look at Crystal, you probably wouldn't want to park your car there and indeed, as we were parking a very angry looking young man must have mistaken the tinted windows on our SUV as being either da man or a bitter rival. He circled us twice before leaving the car park. And to look at the outside of Wild Mint Sushi bar, you might well be forgiven for thinking that it would not be top of anyone's list of eateries. However, I had set out on a mission for Sashimi and Sashimi I would have even if it meant driving even further to downtown Wet Place Minneapolis.
As we walked in to the place, it was an oasis of calm with a vast bar in the center. My meal was quickly identified as the Sashimi Dinner. They were all out of Asayi beer so I had to make do with a Itchiban. Natzoid ordered something with blue in the name and boy did it live up to its name. The thing oozed electric blue waves of death by alcohol poisoning. I was sorely tempted to take it outside and throw it in the windshield wiper reservoir, convinced that this was not an imbibable form of ethanol. It is a testament to how wrong I can sometimes be that Natzoid is still (bordering on being) alive this morning.
The Sashimi was superb. I normally over-order Sushi in a mad frenzy of lust for raw dead fish, wassabe and ginger but yesterday, I was right on the money. I guzzled it down while pretending not to notice the kids trying to stab each other with chop-sticks. Natzoid had some scallop affair that was beautifully presented as she too let the kids impale each other in between their mouthfuls of chicken and hotdog.
As the table was cleared, the fateful offer of dessert was made. Two Lemon Grass cheesecakes and a ginger ice-cream thank you very much. Oh My God. The cheesecake was heavenly and covered in fresh double cream. As we walked out, having paid about the same as we would normally pay at somewhere average like Bennigans except minus any boxes of unfinished food, we swore that was it for food for the day.
Fast forward a couple of hours and we're sitting back watching Under The Tuscan Sun when Natzoid decides that she quite fancies some ribs. I could still barely move from delicious salmon, tuna, shrimp and other assorted delights so poo-poo'd the ridiculous idea. But being the spineless morally bankrupt wretch that I am, the smell got to me and I caved. Many ribs were harmed in the watching of said film.
I had bought the book Under The Tuscan Sun at the airport a few years ago but failed to get engaged in it and as we started watching it, it started to smell of a chick-flick but as the loose plot unfolded, I was captivated. My only complaint is that the makers could have worked in a bit more of the Italian scenery for extra woosh factor. It's a thoroughly charming film and one that you would be hard-pressed to criticize. That is about as enthusiastic as I get about Hollywood these days so you may want to translate that into your own metric; maybe a totally excellent? I was amazed at how many shots of that peculiar shade of orange marble that you only ever see in Italy there were, but then again I'm easily amused; that's what happens when you have the IQ of a lettuce.
So as the rain continues to pour down, the grass remains uncut and it's Sunday therefore based on the last few weeks, we'll have our weekly tornado warnings in a few hours, I'm left to reflect that maybe Minneapolis is not Manchester in disguise. I daresay were I around Manchester, I would not have stuffed myself with top quality Sashimi and then followed it up with ribs. More likely I would have eaten steak and kidney pudding with chips and mushy peas followed by a kebab while watching the FA Cup highlights on Match of the Day.
We'll be returning to Wild Mint soon. I just wish it were a little closer to home and not in a place where I feel the need to count my fingers after shaking hands with people.
Comments (), Permalink, Posted: Sun 12:36 CDT
22nd May 2004
I can resist everything except temptation
I've finally cracked completely. I've been craving Sashimi for all of twelve hours (most of which I was asleep) and must give in to the lure of raw fish and wassabe. If there's one thing that this little suburb lacks, it's a decent Sushi restaurant which means that we will have to go further afield than a couple of blocks. Which is against any self-respecting agoraphobiac's ethics but deeds must when the devil urinates in your tea cup.
It's all dreadfully demanding. Shower, shave etc.. Then tons of raw fish with some sake while I do my Flipper impersonation and whelp like a whelpy thing. And, of course, the kids will moan that they don't like it while I balance the ball on my nose and clap to the beat of an imaginary drum. Is it illegal to dose your kids up on sake?
More pressing than the imminent shower and sashimi fest is the fact that my maternal grandmother invades arrives next Sunday for four (count 'em), four weeks and we have yet to finish the room she will occupy be staying in.
Lordy, I haven't got the energy for this. It's all I can manage to dig up crappy headlines and be disparaging about the rest of the world. But movement? I hate that.
Update: We are just now (at nearly 5) getting ready to go out. Honestly, twixt naps and timeouts, this is a miltary campaign in its complexity. I am now fully prepared to do some serious damage to large amounts of dead fish.
Comments (), Permalink, Posted: Sat 13:06 CDT
Two things
Davie man, no.
Mirror Group PLC, no.
Comments (), Permalink, Posted: Sat 12:01 CDT
Bugger
Having spent the last two weeks ordering the FA Cup final, today was the day when it was all going to happen. And what did I do? I overslept. I'm $25 richer than I would have been, but bankrupt in the football department.
I never liked Dennis Wise anyway.
Comments (), Permalink, Posted: Sat 11:38 CDT
21st May 2004
I hate extrapolations
Oh Bugger. I'm not allowed to give blood in the US because of my UK dwelling during the Thatcher BSE years. Now I find I may have vCJD. Then again, it might explain quite a lot, especially my propensity for mooing loudly each evening and being worshipped by Hindus.
Comments (), Permalink, Posted: Fri 10:27 CDT
Yet another bizarro Yahoo exchange...
Natzoid: I want to go to Kenya.
Natzoid: Do you want to go to Kenya?
Natzoid: Have you gone back to sleep?
Kenny: Why would I want to go to Kenya. It has funky diseases and little internet access.
Natzoid: Glad to see your priorities are in order...freak. It's an absolutely beautiful place. I have never seen more stunning scenery.
Kenny: You can get scenery in the civilized world.
Natzoid: Yeah but this is different. Imagine if the Great Orm or whatever were about three times the size and had little villages dotting the mountain face. Then, right on the other side of the snow-capped mountain lay a herd of elephants just hanging out with the people near the water.
Kenny: Lady, you don't even trust sheep. How on earth would you cope with a couple of tons of independent thought?
Natzoid: I wouldn't go near it dummy - that's what the mountain is for, for remote observation.
Natzoid: But there are some fucking goats on the mountain that would have to go.
Dora the Explorer non?
Comments (), Permalink, Posted: Fri 09:44 CDT
Comedic nobody really is dead
Apparently, Kenny Kaufman really is dead. What a relief. I couldn't handle yet another unfunny US comedy show, especially so soon after Frasier ended.
Comments (), Permalink, Posted: Fri 08:56 CDT
20th May 2004
New National Anthem
Natzoid hates Kate Bush but I am a strong proponent of Lionheart being the replacement for God Save the Queen.
Oh! England, my Lionheart,
I'm in your garden, fading fast in your arms.
The soldiers soften, the war is over.
The air raid shelters are blooming clover.
Flapping umbrellas fill the lanes--
My London Bridge in rain again.
Oh! England, my Lionheart!
Peter Pan steals the kids in Kensington Park.
You read me Shakespeare on the rolling Thames--
That old river poet that never, ever ends.
Our thumping hearts hold the ravens in,
And keep the tower from tumbling.
Oh! England, my Lionheart,
Oh! England, my Lionheart,
Oh! England, my Lionheart,
I don't want to go.
Oh! England, my Lionheart!
Dropped from my black Spitfire to my funeral barge.
Give me one kiss in apple-blossom.
Give me one wish, and I'd be wassailing
In the orchard, my English rose,
Or with my shepherd, who'll bring me home.
Oh! England, my Lionheart,
Oh! England, my Lionheart,
Oh! England, my Lionheart,
I don't want to go.
Oh! England, my Lionheart,
Oh! England, my Lionheart,
Oh! England, my Lionheart,
I don't want to go.
Poetry eh?
Comments (), Permalink, Posted: Thu 11:02 CDT
19th May 2004
What not to wear
Via Her Yaya-ness, I would advise against looking at this picture of John Kerry's daughter. Lady, you should be at home on a Tuesday night watching BBC America and not being photographed cavorting around Cannes in tinted cling-film.
The internet contains some very objectionable and vile materials but I never thought I would find them on a Yahoo page. It's a good job I rarely eat breakfast.
Comments (), Permalink, Posted: Wed 10:40 CDT
18th May 2004
More military mud set to fly?
I'm surprised that the US media have not picked up this story yet which alleges that US troops treated three Reuters employees as badly as the prisoners in Abu Ghraib prison.
If this can be verified, methinks some feathers will be ruffled and others will fly.
How much longer will it be before somebody suggests the blatantly obvious solution to this, which is to send in a civilian watchdog team? At the moment, one could understand an argument that says the fox is watching the hen-house, whether it be true or not. Perception is reality.
Comments (), Permalink, Posted: Tue 18:09 CDT
Random list of troubling observations
As the title says, I have awoken troubled with the state of the world.
First off, forget whoever it was who named their kid Apple. The woman on CNN in the morning, in addition to being criminally ugly, is called Soledad? Who calls their kid Soledad?
Next up in the confusion stakes; since when would it be a good idea for London to host the Olympics? Like the place isn't packed enough with tourists and commuters? You know, it is said that when in London, you are never more than several feet away from a rat. I take this to be figurative as well as literal.
The quality of late night commercials is degrading visibly. How much more does it cost to make your sound track synch with the video? If you're going to do a job, at least do it well.
In a move that speaks volumes about his form, Emile Heskey has been signed by Birmingham City. Another sure sign of a Euro 2004 apocalypse.
Why are my dogs so fascinated with diapers and coffee grounds? I bought a stainless steel garbage can with a pedal action for maximum slippage factor and general inaccessibility so why do I find myself with Shop-Vac in hand every time I hit the bathroom?
Coffee makers do not hold nearly enough coffee. I strongly object to making a second pot each morning once Natzoid has taken her 'on the road' ration.
And finally, on a semi-serious note, if the police need more e-crime skills I can think of someone sat not a million miles away from this keyboard who would be more than willing to help out.
The pot calls. As usual, I will answer.
Comments (), Permalink, Posted: Tue 09:20 CDT
17th May 2004
Euro 2004 revisited
Old Sven Goran Knobbinulrikasson has today announced the squad for Euro 2004. From the BBC, it is as follows:
Goalkeepers: David James (Man City), Paul Robinson (Tottenham), Ian Walker (Leicester)
Defenders: Gary Neville (Man Utd), Phil Neville (Man Utd), Ashley Cole (Arsenal), Wayne Bridge (Chelsea), Sol Campbell (Arsenal), John Terry (Chelsea), Ledley King (Tottenham), Jamie Carragher (Liverpool).
Midfielders: David Beckham (Real Madrid), Paul Scholes (Man Utd), Nicky Butt (Man Utd), Steven Gerrard (Liverpool), Frank Lampard (Chelsea), Owen Hargreaves (Bayern Munich), Kieron Dyer (Newcastle), Joe Cole (Chelsea)
Strikers: Michael Owen (Liverpool), Emile Heskey (Liverpool), Darius Vassell (Aston Villa), Wayne Rooney (Everton).
Standby: Jermain Defoe (Tottenham), Richard Wright (Everton), Matthew Upson (Birmingham), Gareth Southgate (Middlesbrough), Scott Parker (Chelsea), Alan Smith (Leeds).
Well, what do we all make of that then? The first thing that stood out like a red flashing thing to me was the first name. David James? Excuse me? He of the vastly over-rated talent and totally flaky character. I think not. Robinson has impressed me over the last couple of years; I remember the first time I saw him play, I made a mental note that I fully expected him to be the England keeper one day.
The back and midfield look sensible. But oh my word, look at the strikers. It looks to me like a perfect time to air my old graphic that I love so much.
Michael "couldn't hit a cow's arse with a banjo" Owen? Emile "pick me up" Heskey? Vassell? Rooney? Lordy, I bet the French et al are shaking in their proverbial socks looking at that mighty strike-force. Only one of them placed in the top-scorers for the season and that was the Banjoman with a stonking great 20 goals in all competitions this season. Compare that to Henry who bagged 45. Hell as a standby, Defoe has scored more goals than Banjoman has this season. In fact it's bad news when your midfielders have scored more than three of your strikers (Lampard.)
I get the feeling that it might be a short and very cruel summer for English football fans.
Comments (), Permalink, Posted: Mon 17:21 CDT
MT - overcomplicated and now overpriced
Well it had to happen didn't it? MT have announced their licensing and pricing policy going forward. Naughty MT. Clever MT but naughty MT.
I have always thought that MT was overcomplicated for what it aimed to do. The installation process is a bit cumbersome and for the most part, it's just overkill. The fact that some people actually had to shell out hard $ to have it installed for them proves my point. Blogger too is a tad bizarre - the concept of a template seems to me to be forcing people to learn some proprietary nonsense that has no other application. To my mind, that's a bit daft.
Surely the solution here is to have something that manages posts and archives that can be simply be slotted into a style-sheet?
Time to dust off a fairly old bunny. I have made no secret that I use my own software for blogging, and if I may, let me share with you the way it is architected. It may make more sense to you than the MT or blogger models.
Firstly, in my world, there is no template. I have a CSS file that defines the layout of the old blogaroo. Broadly speaking there are divs for top, left, center and right but if you wish, you could hack the CSS (a transferable skill.) Within my main index.php file, I have headers that define the title, the script that shows comment numbers and a DTD. After the headers, in the main body, I have the main divs. In order to display my blog, all I do is the following:
<div id="center">
<?php include "DisplayPosts.php"; ?>
</div>
What could be more simple? All DisplayPosts.php does is pull the last N posts (N is specified in a config file) from a MySQL database and renders them according to style-sheet rules. The software also automagically generates flat html files that act as archives and an rss feed. It's lightweight, fast and as configurable as you want it to be.
It would probably take me a week to finish it off for public consumption by making a few more things configurable, adding multiple authors and writing an installation script.
So, some questions...
- Is it worth doing? I'm not going to waste a week if no-one else will use it.
- Would anyone want to beta test it if I did do it? Initially, I would want fairly tech savvy people as I don't want to be dealing with MySQL installation or permissions problems.
- Would a voluntary donation of $10 along with a credit work for people? I have a son with a gallon a day milk habit; you could feed it for 2 days for $10.
- Are there any PHP programmers out there who would want to help out (Conners - after all, the comments are your baby?) In order for it to be manageable, we would have to restrict it to 3 or 4 people.
- Would it be more appealing if you had the choice of using MySQL as an engine or using a flat file structure without any database stuff?
- Anything else?
On the one hand, I'd like to do this but on the other, if it wouldn't be used by anyone but me, I'd sooner not bother spending another week on it.
Jees - the things I do for you people. I'm a bloody saint.
Comments (), Permalink, Posted: Mon 10:31 CDT
16th May 2004
Airport mission: success
It has been months since I was subject to the entropy that is Minneapolis St Paul's Lindberg terminal. I had forgotten about queues and checkpoints. So much so that when I dutifully pulled off my jacket to put it through the Xray machine, casually walked through the metal detector and bleeped, I couldn't think of what I had that would make the thing bleep. But of course, the Swiss Army knife that befriends me wherever I go. Another bloody confiscated knife. I lost one in Korea and now one at MSP. These things are not cheap people. I know; it's my own stupid fault.
I had also forgotten that the A and B concourses are in Iowa. That is one hell of a long walk. And no, I didn't see the tram until on my way out of the airport.
By the time I'd walked to Iowa, I had forgotten what I was there for. I saw a jet roll up to the gate but given there was a lack of gate agents, it just sat there for twenty minutes; twenty minutes that I made excellent use of by reading the motoring section of the Trib that some kind soul had left for me to read and imagining myself in a nice Buick. Well what else do you do when you're on the world's most boring concourse? I'm sorry to have to say this, but cars are way more interesting than the people who frequent regional flight centers. Dowdy women with ridiculous dress sense and toothless wonders grace these places, all looking absolutely bemused by the big city airport. Yes, I'm a people lover, but only when they are at least twenty feet away and do not try to engage me in small talk. And I do have an odd rule that says if you are sporting the family tooth this weekend, please try to stay at least fifty feet away from me.
Suffice to say, now I am no longer a member of the WorldClub, MSP once more sucks and the worst of humanity squats there.
Eventually a familiar face disembarked from the plane and I remembered my purpose. I signed the paper that put her back in our custody and legged it back to the car, Sam sprinting alongside me. With a guitar case? What the hell? I didn't ask. She has her reasons I suppose.
As we left the airport, I somehow missed the turn for 55 that would lead me to 62 and then 35W which is the way home. I ended up in some suburb of St Paul; Highland Pointe? Sorry to the inhabitants of St Paul, but if there's one place I do not want to get lost in, it's St Paul. I went there once and was absolutely underwhelmed. To put it rather bluntly, the place sucks more than the regional hub at the airport.
It was about this time that my mind rebelled and started thinking all geek, as is its wont. My laptop style keyboard died a few weeks ago and I have been using a full-size one that causes me to clunk noisily as I type and to make many more typos than I am comfortable with, so as I hacked my way back into familiar territory, it was natural that I think of Microcenter, which is is geek heaven located just off highway 100 in St Louis Park. I tried. God knows I tried to not pull of onto 36th Street and make a couple of lefts, but the geek-pull was too strong. $30 later and I was all laptop-keyboarded up again. I love that place.
The rest of the drive home consisted of me bitching to Sam about how her damned candy smelled so sickly that I was planning on vomiting into her mysterious guitar case. I have, as of now, banned all stinky candy from the truck.
Man, I'm a barrel of laughs aren't I?
By the way, have I mentioned that she is not funny? Methinks some revenge is in order.
Comments (), Permalink, Posted: Sun 19:43 CDT
Call the humor police
She thinks she's funny. I am now on her blogroll as Kenny Head. If you're going to use said moniker at least do it in Scottish and have me in there as Kenny Heed. Now that would be funny. Kenny Head is not funny. At all. In the slightest.
I now have my webcam working over HTTP which is a bit cool. It required the installation of a fiendishly clever piece of software called palantir which takes input from any video4linux source and spews it forth on whatever TCP port you tell it to. Apparently it can also do sound but I haven't tried that. Maybe that's tonight's little project before State of Play which, incidentally, is about the best piece of television I have seen in quite a long while.
I now have to head down to the airport to pick up Sam after another one of her debauched weekends in the People's Democratic Republic of Moline. Ug. The longer I stay away from airports, the more I realise how much I hated them. That is not funny.
And neither are you.
Comments (), Permalink, Posted: Sun 14:38 CDT
15th May 2004
Compliance, Schompliance
When I was last over in the UK for my brother's wedding, my impending redundancy and some cunning planning, one John Conners stuck my URL into a validator and pages of whines and moans spewed forth. I held my head in shame while pretending to be completely impervious to the implications. Smarty pants's URL passed with flying colors. But then again, said I, he's an ex pro web developer and he uses some fancy Windows software called Citydesk.
At that time, I was hand coding everything. Since then. I have written my own little blogging tool. It isn't as fancy as blogger or MT but it suits my needs and when it goes wrong, I know how to fix it which is always a good thing. One of the things that suddenly started to nag at the back of my brain was that day in Skipton where I failed to validate. So I fixed it. And now, everything from May 1st onwards is fully compliant. I make a point to check it after each post.
Pleased as punch with myself, I started putting some of my blogroll's shoddy links into the validator. And guess what. I think there is only John's and my site that passes. The rest of you are web ruffians without any etiquette. I'd love to believe that you lot are all just foot-loose and fancy-free but it can't be the case. The reality is that you just don't care.
And I'm looking at you, who gave me grief about being non-compliant, MJ. Cough.
Comments (), Permalink, Posted: Sat 21:56 CDT
Wasted day
Given that it was too cold to go outside and do any gardening or mowing, I was looking for something to do. I chose to try to get my webcam working on my Linux box. Not for any good reason, just because it was there and not doing anything. I have had some success. I can now use xawtv to see the webcam picture feed. However, getting it working with Apache seems to be a tad troublesome. I've pretty much given up for the day; I'll play around with it next week.
On the plus side, I did get LobbyGobbler USA's comments working again although I did need to modify a couple of fields in the database to be BIGINT rather than DOUBLE due to the fact that the blogger $BlogItemNumber$ is unfeasibly large. Now I've put all that work into it, you could at least head over there and say hello, you lazy buggers.
Three pieces of cheesecake remain and Natzoid is yet to sample its lardy goodness. As you can see, this is a dilemma since there are four of us in the house at the moment. We may have to wait until Nic is in bed to finish it; Zoe will not be fooled out of cheesecake very easily and I'm sure Natzoid and I won't. I need to leave the house to run to the store - do I trust them to do the decent thing, or do you think I should take it with me?
Comments (), Permalink, Posted: Sat 16:20 CDT
Saturday morning rant
For the second Saturday in succession, I awoke thinking that today was FA Cup final day so rushed to the cable remote controller and ordered it. $24.95! What the? As those of you in the know will know, and indeed those that aren't will know in several well polished words time, the FA Cup final is next Saturday not today or last Saturday. Bugger.
I contented myself with hopping onto Ananova to see the league scores and was greeted with the delicious sight of Leicester beating Arsenal by a goal; could it be? Dizzy with the anticipation of Arsenal's unbeaten record being unceremoniously flushed down the crapper, I looked for the match coverage button that usually sits below the scoreline. And I looked. And I looked. It wasn't there, not just on the Arsenal game, but it was conspicuous by its absence on all games. Yet another bloody feature of Ananova that Orange seem to have dropped.
I remember the days when Ananova had a picture of the main news/sport/entertainment etc. story on their front page. It's not earth-shatteringly important that they have generic pictures that are there permanently now, but it was a nice touch when the picture was relevant. I also remember the days when they had archives and you could go back through the stories. Now you have the last ten minutes news - you daren't link to them just in case they pull the story down. And now, the ultimate in cost-cutting; no live match coverage. Remind me again why I even bother going there.
As it happens, my misery was completed by Arsenal coming back to win although it was tempered by a United win and an excellent result for City.
Meanwhile LobbyGobbler USA has been faffing with his template, which will undoubtedly have broken the comment code in his template that I so lovingly crafted last night. As soon as the bugger has finished faffing, I will do the honorable thing and fix it. Again.
One last little moan-let; it's bloody Spring Minnesota. I should not have to be out at ten o'clock in the evening covering my plants with plastic to save them from frost. It's May for God's sake. We should be knocking around in shorts, not sweaters. Get a grip would you?
Comments (), Permalink, Posted: Sat 11:25 CDT
14th May 2004
Lordy, mercy please
I feel it my duty to warn the masses that the Leyther in Florida has enlisted me to help him start a blog. I have no idea what language dialect he intends using and I am praying for a spell-checker in the new blogger.
I have no idea what to expect other than a lesson for our American cousins in talking proper like. Be assured, when complete, it will be linkified.
Update: Said blog is up and running. I am expecting great things; a survivor's guide to German women, Designing ASICs, QFPs, BGAs and SOICs for Dummies, a continental Lobby recipe and a boat load of annoying rugby league crap. Oh, and I fully expect him to tell us all how to get full cable access without paying for it all. We'll see. The combination of a hardware bod and software bod can be scary - we may yet conquer the world.
Comments (), Permalink, Posted: Fri 16:56 CDT
How to win friends and influence kids
Cheesecake - it's what's for lunch. Come on people. Lighten up. It's Friday.
Comments (), Permalink, Posted: Fri 13:15 CDT
Strange happenings in blogland
Or should that be Blogrovia?
Over the last couple of days, I have noticed some anomalous behavior by the various distributed components that comprise most people's blogs. Case in point; blogrolling. Now I know I have long poked fun at those that use it, but it is a handy tool; I'll grudgingly admit that. During the last two days it has either prevented me from loading people's sites or has simply failed to produce the list that it should have. The truly weird part is that it only malfunctioned on some sites and not others. Maybe they have a load-balancing thing or a distributed service internally based on username (I can see that - it would be sensible) and only some of it is down. Whatever. It has been as flakey as a frozen Galaxy Ripple bar (which, incidentally, is superior to a Cadbury's Flake in every metric, including morality.)
Exhibit two for the prosecution is blogger. The new blogger - which I have yet to have a butcher's at - appears to produce some rogue code. Now that I am all XHTML compliant, I can judge, point fingers and generally tut-tut at sloppiness. Hell I don't write code professionally, but even my limited intellect managed to make it such that my hand-crafted blogging tool generates valid XHTML now. An addendum, which I'm not sure I can entirely blame on the new release (although it's interesting that this little glitchette appeared just as it was released), is that on some sites I need to refresh once I get there to rid myself of a browser full of random characters. One explanation is that certain web servers render the information generated by blogger wrong the first time you access the site and correct thereafter.
Who knows? These are mysteries. But I have too much time on my hands so I look for conspiracies on every metaphorical web street-corner. Answers on a postcard please.
I had more to say but both kids are screaming about a beaded purple bracelet (so macho Nic) so I need to go stuff wafers in their mouths so they are incapable of any form of noise. All nominations for parent of the year will be gratefully accepted. In fact, while they are quiet, I will write my acceptance speech.
More later, if I've not been clubbed to death with a five iron and a length of dowel.
Comments (), Permalink, Posted: Fri 10:41 CDT
13th May 2004
You've got to love it
I'm not sure how long Ananova keep up their links anymore since Orange bought them and scaled back there, but the thought of some old cockney geezer complaining about Paul McCartney's volume during practice sessions at the Millenium Dome had me chortling, indeed guffawing.
Council Operator: Awight there gav, wass va problem then mi old mucker?
Geezer: Well it's Pawl McCartney innit? 'Is bladdy practisin' is too firigging lawed. E's in that there Milleniam Dowm all 'ours of the bleedin' day and night. Bladdy bass nearly gimme an 'eart attack, and Tricky Woo dan't like it eever.
CO: Vewy well then gav, wass...
Geezer: You kna, ma'y farmily 'as lived arand 'ere since 1841 and we've never 'eard o' sach a racket. I tell ya, I pay rates ya kna'. Always 'ave dan. Paul bleedin' McCartney dan't pay rates arand 'ere ya kna. 'Im and 'is fancy 'elicopters and rock'n'roall musac. I's a crime I tells ya. I was sayin' yisterday to Mrs Geeza, i's never bin the sayme since that Elvis geezer started up wiv 'is popular musac. I tell ya...
CO: Mr Geeza, or should I carrrrry on cawlin' ya gav? Anyway, we'll av sam-one rand to tell the poncy Scouse git to keep a lid onnit.
Geezer: Wewl, ya'd bidder get on it ven 'adn't ya? 'Cos if 'e tunes ap once mower, I'm ganna cawl ar Phil in from Walford and 'ave 'im sowted wance and for awl. I know ma raghts. You followin' mi san?
CO: Wicked Geeza...as soon as I 'ang up, a'll cawel Den art.
Geezer: Respect.
CO: Respect.
Geezer: Poncy Norverner wif 'is fancy castuls. Bastard. I bladdy 'ate Norverners I do. So das Mrs Geeza. Even mar cat grawels at 'em. Puffs. Anyway san, I'm off darn the booza wif va missus. Be a darlin' an' see what ya can do? Mi piginn's ain't sleepin' an mi dawg is whinin', not vat 'e ever stops miynd.
CO: Awight mate, we'll ave it sorted. Cheers now...
Geezer: And oo' flars arayund in a bladdy 'elicoptor anyway? Oo das 'e fink 'e is? John bladdy Lennon?
CO: Awight mate, fanks for va 'eds-ap.
Geezer: Awight. Cheers. Jast dowunt make me get are Phil art!
Oh to have been a fly on that wall.
Comments (), Permalink, Posted: Thu 17:44 CDT
12th May 2004
Parenting class - Advanced level
Apologies to those who are not familiar with the daily adventures of being a parent, although this should serve as a warning to those considering becoming one.
Section A - Bottles
What's so hard about bottles eh? You just wash 'em, fill 'em with milk and watch the little tyke go. Wrong. You've missed out on the largest part of bottles and little sippy cups; finding them when the buggers have finished. I have discovered them variously in places such as under our bed, under Zoe's bed, in toy-boxes, in shoes, in the dog food, in the grocery cupboard, in the laundry basket, behind the TV, in my jacket pocket, in my closet, in the oven , in the garbage and today's little gem, in a drawer. We were down to the last one, the others having been eaten by the bottle-monster in much the same way that your favorite socks are eaten in the singular by whatever it is that eats socks. Fortunately, while frantically scrabbling around trying to find the final bottle and cooing "Where's your bottle Nic?", I happened upon another one. Woohoo. What a win. Double the bottles for a single effort. You will spend hours of your life doing this. Like hide and seek but with no way to conceed that you are beaten.
Section B - Diapers and Wipes
No matter how much fun you think that toy drum is, or that musical basket-ball hoop, nothing is more fantastically thrilling than getting hold of a bag of diapers and pulling them all out, throwing them in any direction you feel like as you go. Same goes for wipes.
Section C - Bog-roll
Think you've put that toilet-roll out of reach? Think again. Those in the UK will remember the Andrex puppy and it's charming escapades running around with arse-rag wrapped around it, proving how "soft, strong and very, very long" Andrex is. Toddlers have a similar trick except they tear it as they go making it look like a football match or May Day parade. If you factor in dogs, who equally love the stuff, the once whole roll can become shreds in seconds, stretching from one end of the house to the other. [Aside - I'm of the Kleenex Double Velvet persuasion myself.]
Section D - First Words
The little darlings are sponges and you would be well-advised to watch your language from the time of their birth. You may think that soft "no, no, no" that you whisper softly to them as they try to reach for your sharpest kitchen knife is an adequate dissuader. For one, it isn't; they'll still go for the deliciously unobtainable. For two, it will come back to bite you; when you start to perform some sadistic action such as changing their diaper or changing their clothes, you will suddenly realise the elementary schoolboy mistake you made in their formative months, as the gentle "no, no, no" comes back to haunt you in a crazed, demonic scream of "NO, NO, NO." In addition, you remember when you thought that you were teaching them manners by saying thankyou. That too will return to sink its sharp canine teeth into your rump. No longer will that sweet "dankoo" when you give them lunch be so angelic; it will be a menacing "give me that bloody thing now before I rip your gizzards out and stick them where the sun doesn't shine" as you relieve them of the world's biggest knitting needle they have climbed onto the table to acquire, or as they wave a 5-iron at you with a quasi-evil glint in their eye.
Section E - The Wonder Toddler Years
Subsection 1 - Clothes
Once the little cherubs have discovered how to dress and undress themselves, an average day's worth of clothing comprises a full washing load as they do a Dame Edna or Madonna and change outfits every hour on the hour, discarding their previous apparel to the floor of their bedroom to be trodden on by kids, licked by dogs and then transferred to the bathroom floor when they manage to splash water from the basin onto the floor.
Subsection 2 - Language
Verbal slapstick for beginners. Take one four year old and ask her how she slept. The description of their dream will come thick and fast with lots of exciting "and then blah blah blah because blah blah blah because blah blah blah then blah blah blah and blah blah blah because blah blah blah so I hit him with a pony and the monster was my friend. Can I watch the wiggles now?" "Yes dear, you do that. I'm glad you slept well."
Subsection 3 - Candy/Chocolate
Think the top of the six foot fridge-freezer is a safe place to hide your good chocolate (i.e. not the Hersheys muck that the kids love?) Wrong. Even though they have seldom tasted it, they can spot it a mile off. Six feet must be a problem, right? Wrong again. Take one four year old, a kitchen stool, a counter top and voila. Pas du chocolate. Bien sur.
Subsection 4 - Independence
This sets in around four when they watch their older sibbling leave the house to go to a friend's. One morning, while you are dealing with the youngest of your brood, the four year old will don a back-pack, baseball cap, scarf and sun glasses and hot-foot it down to the end of the road before you can say "Jesus Christ - that diaper stinks." The obvious solution to this problem to those who are not teachers (i.e. no eyes in the back of their heads) and to those who are of a scientific persuasion is mirrors. Fairly simple first order calculus will allow you to work out where the optimal position for mirrors in a particular room is to provide doorway visibility from any point within that room. If you don't consider yourself up to the task, you can always hire someone to do it for you, but be aware that your lack of knowledge of calculus will be another of those nasty little gremlins that will return to gorge itself on your buttocks in just a few short years.
Section F - The Pre-teen
Subsection 1 - Taste
As your prodigy approaches their teenage years, they too will start to refine their tastes. Suddenly tootsie pops and gumballs are not the catch they once were. Hersheys suddenly isn't appealing but good chocolate is. Where once insipid American teabags were de rigeur, only the finest imported English tea will do. Twice a day. Birthday dinners will transmogrify from hamburgers or pizza at Chucky Cheese's to demands for duck or leg of lamb. Tinned corn will not be acceptable; buttered aspargus is the new taste du jour.
Subsection 2 - Communication
While compus mentis enough to explain to you why they need $10 this instant, their internalization of incoming commands is yet to be developed. For example, "Can you feed the dogs please?" will see the dogs out running around the yard within seconds. A simple request to go get something out of the freezer downstairs will be greeted with a willing smile and a reappearance five minutes later, now dazed and unwordly with a "Erm, like, what did you want me to do? Empty the garbage?"
So budding parents everywhere. In addition to planning for baptisms, clothes, schools and universities, keep in mind that this is only a fraction of the job. You need contigencies for everything. You need a barf-bucket in every room. You need to craft a plan with an eye on the future. And most of all, if you can't spell or do calculus, you're absolutely fucked and will be doomed to a future of ridicule and relentless abuse. Now, think again.
Comments (), Permalink, Posted: Wed 12:02 CDT
11th May 2004
BBC America revisited
BBC America has got to be one of the most cynically US network-style TV channels there is. They commit all the same crass crimes as Fox and TNT etc. For the most part it's 24 hour day-time TV with home improvement shows, gardening shows, smutty comedies and C-list celebrities. On the rare occasions that something watchable is on, they either pad it to last longer so as to increase the frequency of commercials for exercise machines and kitchen gadgets or they pad it such that the commercials become more frequent as the show goes on until it gets to ridiculous levels where the last fifteen minutes are five minutes of commercials followed by three minutes of show followed by fives minutes of commercials then by two minutes of show (one of which is the credits.) It drives me nuts.
If I were a US viewer of the alleged drama that is on BBCA, I could be forgiven for thinking that the UK has only one actor for drama series. Robson Green is now in, as far as I can count, about six different shows, all purporting to be drama. Only one of them is respectable. The rest are tripe. One minute he's a criminal psychologist and the next he's knobbing some scrubber in a lift. Where's the fluency? I can't keep up. I can only assume that the BBC license fee hasn't gone up in a few years and that he's cheap.
I watched Murphy's Law last night, which was an absolute giggle:
Thug1: "You going to shoot us then?"
Murphy: "No. I'm going to shoot you six times and then be really mean to the others."
It only works in a Northern Irish accent.
Which brings me nicely onto another point. I bet that half of the American audience cannot understand the colloquialisms and hard regional accents. Glaswegian and the Belfast accent are sometimes tough for English people. How the poor Americans manage I will never know. Natzoid gave up last night after an admirable hour's effort.
I know I've ranted about this before but Hell's Teeth, it's annoying. If you want proof of how bad it is, look at tonight's prime-time line-up. Now tell me that is not pathetic.
Whoever takes over from the sad old gimmer who has just departed has a very striaghforward job on their hands; take off the day-time crap and put on the good BBC dramas and comedies. I know they exist.
Comments (), Permalink, Posted: Tue 15:08 CDT
10th May 2004
Near miss
I haven't been over to Cathy's site yet this morning but I would imagine she'll be talking about this too. We had a bit of what us Minnesota dwellers would call "weather" yesterday.
Yesterday afternoon, I liberated the lawn-mower from the shed where it had been held hostage since about September and set about mowing the back lawn for the first time this year. It reminded me how in our next house, I want enough land such that a riding lawn-mower is required; even though I have one of those mowers with a gear thingumy, it's still bloody hard work and in the temperatures we were dealing with yesterday, I was drenched in sweat by the end of the exercise. Having completed it, I decided that I was going to take a break and start digging out some borders and planting some seeds.
I managed one and a half borders before we stopped for a late lunch mid-afternoon. After lunch, I procrastinated somewhat by saying that while I digested, I would knock a few golf balls around prior to mowing the front. Thirty minutes of smacking balls around ensued with Natzoid coaching my swing and action. I have discovered that if balls hover off the ground at approximately three inches, I'm a God at driving. It's just that whole being on the ground thing that throws me.
Anyway, as I was chipping and driving, the temperature increased to about 90° and it was very apparent there was a storm in the offing. As the first spits of rain started, there was a rush to house all garden and golf kit and we ran inside.
A few minutes later, Sam informed us that we were under a severe thunderstorm watch and, as usual, I casually dismissed it as nonsense. Minnesotans have a propensity to over-react to weather as it's one of their main topics of conversation. There is an advisory for fog, for heaven's sake; fog that I would normally call a slight mist. You ain't seen fog until you've crossed the Pennines at the crack of dawn.
As the storms rolled in I reluctantly turned the TV channel to a local station where the weather man was in a frenzy of excitement; they live for this kind of thing. Dopplar radar showed bowed fronts, rotations, S-configurations etc. and it was apparent that there was indeed a threat of tornadic activity. Initially it looked like it would miss us but within minutes a spotter had seen a tornado and we were under tornado alert. A few more minutes and it was heading straight at us. Time to head down to the basement, so armed with the staples, off we all trotted downstairs, dogs and all. Sensibly, we turned off and unplugged all PCs and the cable modem (you have more chance of getting a spike through that than through the mains electricity.) There we sat as the winds battered and the rains soaked for thirty minutes, waiting for the disaster. The sky was the most peculiar shade of green, surely an apocalyptic sign, but thankfully, it was not to be. The storm front and wall cloud passed over us and headed off to downtown and thence into Wisconsin.
Our second near miss of the year. And it's only early May. On the plus side, thanks for the light-show; as I always say Midwest storms are the most impressive show of nature's temper even if they don't always obey the Queensbury rules.
Update: Cathy was actually out in it! Unlucky.
Comments (), Permalink, Posted: Mon 11:40 CDT
9th May 2004
George W Crassus
One good thing came out of staying up late and watching Spartacus the other night. I now know where George W President gets his speech inspiration from. There is a scene where the Roman senator Crassus explains why Spartacus must be made an example of in order to preserve freedom and why freedom isn't always free etc. etc.. It's literally word for word George W President's better pontifications.
The parallel is extended as Crassus allies himself with an outlaw pirate in order to corner Spartacus and Co (shall we say Musharraf?). Ultimately, as you will all know, Crassus succeeds in killing every single insurgent one of Spartacus' army of slaves. Unfortunately, in the meantime, Pompey has heard the news of the defeat of Spartacus and heads back to Rome to claim victory for himself.
I ain't saying I disagree with El W Presidente, it just struck me as kind of spooky. I wonder who Pompey will be?
Comments (), Permalink, Posted: Sun 12:20 CDT
And the word of the day is...
Insurgent. Every sentence seems to contain the word. It seems there mustn't be an entry in Roget for insurgent.
I think it's very important that we all understand that insurgents are not the same as guerillas, rebels, resistance or militants. After all, insurgents only live in Iraq and by definition must be armed with RPGs, mortars and high power automatic weapons. Guerillas are, of course, armed only with sling shots and spears. Rebels are armed only with hand-guns. Resistance (a la Francais) are not armed but talk a mean game depending on who is listening. And militants? Pah. They are armed only with a copy of the Koran and a suicide belt.
It's these insurgents that we have to watch, insurgifying everywhere all the time. The rest are just wusses.
I must confess I'm a little confused. I wonder whether the title of insurgent is awarded posthumously? Fair question I think. They only ever seem to be mentioned in the past tense, as in "today coalition forces killed <insert number here> Iraqi insurgents." And what is the opposite of insurgent? Is it a resurgent or is more of an ointment such as a disinsurgent? The world needs to know. Maybe Larry King can do a show on it and educate my pathetic ken?
Sorry, those last sentences didn't contain the word insurgent. I just couldn't wangle it.
This message has been brought to you by CNN. And some cynical bastard who thinks the average hack is a pretty illiterate moron.
Comments (), Permalink, Posted: Sun 11:44 CDT
8th May 2004
More (lack of) sleep
So, after the previous night's horror, I decided to take a couple of over the counter sleep aids last night. At 10:30 or so Natzoid and I popped two of the fellas each. At 11:00, Natzoid was flat-out and I was left waiting. And waiting. At midnight, I had given up on them so I sat and watched four hours of Sparticus; I didn't want to spend another night of staring at the ceiling fan.
Aside, great production if a little on the gory side. And Grant Mitchell as a Roman soldier? Passable but weird.
At four o'clock I decided I should try to sleep. At six o'clock, I fell asleep. At six thirty Nic ended up in our bed and kicked me variously in my kidney/arm/head. Much thrashing went on and many of those moments where you experience that sudden feeling that you have fallen or slipped (allegedly due to a sudden drop in blood pressure.) Many weird and vivid dreams of conspiracy; rats, meeting David Beckham, getting billed £201.50 for holding up a football match, a mad airport where people just left their bags unattented while they ducked out. I awoke panic stricken on a number of occasions, the most violent of which was due to the rat incident that made me literally scream aloud, which of course woke Nic.
At nine thirty some bastard neighbor started with a bandsaw. By this point I was all but desperate to get some contiguous sleep. The next thing I know it's midday and Natzoid has brought me coffee. It took me at least half an hour to come to and the little black woozies that I'm sure cause fatigue (I jest - I'm not that mad) were slowly vanquished by the white woozies of coffee.
I'm now in a limbo where I have lost half my day and need to get my act together in order to achieve what I had intended to achieve. I think another dose of white woozies and I'll be set to go. First order of business is shaving my bonce. Anything but looking like Liam frickin' Gallagher...
Comments (), Permalink, Posted: Sat 13:19 CDT
7th May 2004
Worst nights sleep ever
It is profoundly tedious to spend a night staring at a thankfully motionless ceiliing and listening to dogs licking themselves and chewing on something they probably ought not to be chewing. All the while the missus is gaining ground and edging me closer to the filing cabinet that, moments earlier, I had impaled myself on getting back into bed.
The depths to which ones mind will sink for amusement are unimaginable:
"Since when did we have Munch's The Scream in our bedroom? We're not fecking Mrs and Mrs Robert Smith. Ah, we don't; it's just an insipid landscape. We should get a copy of The Scream for next time."
"I wonder if I write a module sleep.php that does something really mundane whether it would make me?"
"I really need to format that table properly and make the access code a module in its own right."
"Are Stephen Fry and Oscar Wilde proof of reincarnation?"
"Those NASA photos of Saturn looked a bit too clear and regular for my liking. Too much resolution for such a large field of view. Dang, maybe I'm becoming a conspiracy theorist."
As always, I fell asleep about 15 minutes before alarm clocks started going off, dreaming of code (always with the code) and about an inch away from certain squashed dog and total mayhem. For some reason I found it perfectly plausible that I could just include bits of my life in a file, which in reterospect is not too far from the truth.
Comments (), Permalink, Posted: Fri 10:20 CDT
6th May 2004
There's nothing like a good breakdown
And that's what is on the cards now. What a waste of energy. Someone sometime soon is going to be spending a lot of time under the supervision of a doctor. That's what you get when you forsake your left wing leanings.
And then they present you with an invoice. Got to love it. The irony is so sweet.
Comments (), Permalink, Posted: Thu 13:16 CDT
5th May 2004
They think it's all over, and it is now
Euro 2004 looms on the horizon. As usual, there is the sense of anticipation that the England team may do the unthinkable and win the competition. After the disappointment of the World Cup, it's the next chance we have and a whole country will virtually stop as the events unfold.
As much as other countries go nuts about football, no-one can surpass the English love of the game. With any international competition, we hurl our collective emotional neuroses into the spotlight for all to see. Suddenly it doesn't matter that Michael Owen is a donkey; he's playing for England not Liverpool so his desperate misses become agonizing half-chances rather than laughable feck-ups. Conversely, Liverpool and Arsenal fans suddenly start to rate Paul Scholes and the Nevilles. A nation unites.
And as per usual, the song arrives. Someone somewhere decides we need a song to get behind the England team. Like hell. Apparently some Blist celebrity has recorded what will undoubtedly be a catchy little number that will make him a great deal of money. That recording will be in direct competition to the FA's official Euro 2004 song. WTF? Another excuse to cash-in on anything that might make a bob or two. The thing that annoys me most about it is that I know it will be catchy and that by the start of the campaign, I will be ordering it on Amazon just because it is my duty, and if I don't, I could be single-handedly responsible for England not winning. It will matter not that I was wearing my heart on my sleeve throughout or that my voice is tired and husky from screaming at the TV as Michael Owen once more becomes a donkey; all that will matter is that I wasn't wearing the right England shirt and I hadn't bought the CD.
Good God. When did I become so shallow?
I promise I'll stop being so, but only after Euro 2004 and before the start of the next football season.
Comments (), Permalink, Posted: Wed 12:34 CDT
4th May 2004
OK - you own me
Yes, I'm not a pretty girl. Here it is:
Should I dye it black or pink?
Comments (), Permalink, Posted: Tue 16:53 CDT
Yet another dilemma
As has been extensively reported in the media (Grauniad, Telegraph, New York Times etc., not), I have not shaved my head in a couple of months. I therefore look like a balding Jonny Rotten with hair perpendicular to my head. I'm not fond of the look but I have always been a hair twiddler and the rediscovery of this greatest of pacifiers has been a great comfort to me.
Natzoid maintains that I look stupid.
Should I give up my personal comfort in order to not look stupid? Or should I just buy a blanket to carry around with me?
Comments (), Permalink, Posted: Tue 14:38 CDT
3rd May 2004
Report says Leythers to invade Florida
According to a Reuters report filed Monday, preparations are being made for an invasion of Leythers into Florida. Contrary to the usual invasion of holiday resorts such as Disney and Universal Studios, this attack will be on the small town of Melbourne. In an effort to stem any casualties from culture shock, Yateswire has issued the following statement of explanation to Floridians:
People of Florida. Be afraid. The apparent Klingon language is not really Klingon, but merely a bastardization of the English language. Spelling of the language is arbitrary. For example Alreet and Oreet are the same word for the English "You all right?" In general, phonetics do not work, in much the same way trying to speak Chinese is impossible to a native English speaker. Append every sentence with "mon."
Feeding of Leythers, should they grace your establishment, will be a challenge for Floridians. Chickens should always be roasted, potatoes too. Vegetables should always be boiled to within an inch of disintegration. Pies should contain only cows and cow-derivatives. Gravy should made from Bisto. Butter should be salted and unsweetened. Chips (English: Fries) should be fried in lard. Malt vinegar should be supplied with every meal. To a Leyther, there is only one form of fish, Cod, so don't try any of your fancy schmancy Swordfish or Dolphin. Or Alligator.
Local publicans should ensure that they do not clean their pipes and have a steady supply of Walkers mild and Greenall Whitley bitter. When asked for a "red witch", under no circumstances look confused. Pleasantly smile and say "Howstha mek un?" The Leyther will respond. Do not offer wine with meals; Leythers have sophisticated tastes in booze. In general, avoid anything cultural other than rugby league.
Most importantly, do not say the word Wigan in a positive manner. If the topic crops up in conversation simply state "A'd rather be a pastie than a pie." It matters not one jot that you understand the meaning of that phrase; this is a survival guide.
Under no circumstances wear a shell-suit. You will be mistaken by the Leythers as a scouser, thereby putting you at severe risk of bodily harm.
Should you inadvertently pass gas, scream "Foundary, Boundary, Bull" immediately afterwards. Failure to do so will result in a friendly death by beating.
Above all, exercise caution. We're all friends but remember, the US and the UK are divided by a (pseudo-)common language.
Alert ends.
Comments (), Permalink, Posted: Mon 12:04 CDT
Stop the press
May 3rd 2004 - Minneapolis, MN - via Yateswire - A-BOMB HITS MINNEAPOLIS KITCHEN.
Reports were surfacing early on Monday about an unplanned detonation of an atomic-bomb in a Minneapolis kitchen. The reports state that the bomb went off at around dinner time yesterday evening. If true, it will mean that Samantha "Half-A-Job" J's hard work over the weekend were for naught.
The clean-up operation has already started, sources said. It will involve a blogger, a dishwasher, several loads, umpteen sponges, Oximagic and several hours.
It is not the first time this kind of incident has happened, strangely in the very same kitchen. Regular accidental atomic explosions have been recorded and clean-up operations are scheduled on a regular basis.
A spokesperson who was allegedly responsible for the damage was, unsurprisingly, unavailable for comment and would not return Yahoo IMs.
Comments (), Permalink, Posted: Mon 11:20 CDT
2nd May 2004
Masses wrong again
Rubbish. The Stone Roses have at least ten contenders for this list, the most notable being Love Spreads and I am the Resurrection. Damned yoof of today.
Comments (), Permalink, Posted: Sun 15:08 CDT
Call me a hippy - the sequel
Ms Luminous has just stirred some memories for me that I haven't thought about in fifteen years.
When I was in my late teens and early twenties, I was a regular visitor to folk festivals. The delicious combination of hanging around a campfire with some seriously talented musicians and a stash of beer was too much to resist. The people I went with were a good deal older than I and were probably really children of the sixties, hard-core hippies who smoked dope and smelled of patchouli. They were tremendously fun people to be around and no topic of conversation was off-limits. And, of course, they all had their causes.
John was in his late thirties with the compulsory long hair. In the years where vinyl was the main source of music, he dealt in records. He traveled the country, buying rareties and marking them up. He was pretty much the Lovejoy of the record world and made a great living from it until CDs killed the collector market. His passion was the American Indian. I've no idea whether he had ever been to the US but his breadth of knowledge was incredible.
Tim was a school-friend of John. I don't remember what he did for a living or if he even did anything, but he owned a house about half a mile away from my parents. He had a huge Rottweiler called Max who was the best trained, most slobbery dog you could ever wish to meet. His wife was a New Zealander called Judy who was almost obese as one possibly could be but had the voice of an angel. As I remember, she had opinions on everything and was fairly arrogant about them, albeit that the majority of them were to do with obscure topics that mattered not a jot to anyone. All the same, she made them known.
Folk festivals started in the Civic Hall and then made their way onto the fields nearby when the formalities had finished. There, more beer or spirits were consumed around a fire and the musicians encouraged everyone to participate. They didn't care if anyone was out of tune, just that they were willing and happy. This would continue until dawn.
The musicians lived like gypsies rolling around the country in caravans and it was rare that the same bunch were ever seen again.
I vividly remember one girl who was the most fantastic violinist (fiddler) I have ever heard. I recall sitting next to her at the side of a caravan, in front of a fire, being transfixed by her talent. I remember her being stunningly pretty in a very non-sexual manner and being mesmerized by the combination of her beauty and her music. She taught me how to play a few notes on the violin.
It was a strange thing, when a few months later, I was sat on a train in Colwyn Bay on my way back to Llandudno, I saw the fiddler girl on the opposite platform. She saw me. Surprisingly she remembered me from a couple of hours a few months earlier and waved vigorously in my direction. I was working as a programmer at the time and was highly disillusioned with what I was doing. For a few brief moments, I considered getting off the train and just traveling with her, wandering from one drunken folk festival to another, away from the corporate bullshit. But as usual, my work ethic kicked in and I stayed put. I never saw her again at any of the festivals. I do still, however, remember the notes she taught me on the violin.
Ah, nostalgia isn't what it used to be.
Comments (), Permalink, Posted: Sun 12:44 CDT
1st May 2004
I lied
That last entry was a lie. I intended cleaning but was distracted by Natzoid's new work website. And once I'd done that, I got to thinking about my own embarassment at my blog not being XHTML compliant. So I fixed it. Old stuff is still naff but anything from March 1st onwards should be good. I might find a little button somewhere. Go me!
Tomorrow is another day, and I've taken time out today to beat the kids into working so that's OK.
Comments (), Permalink, Posted: Sat 19:21 CDT
Online activity sparse
I'm going to be away from the PC for vast chunks of time this weekend due to a spring-cleaning exercise. This is necessary because [most of] you would not believe the amount of damage that can be done to a home by three children and three dogs.
Fret not though. I will not have withdrawal symptoms. As I get my groove thang on with my beloved Shop-Vac, I will be whistling V32-bis tunes at 24000bps, latency will be non-existent and I may end up attempting a wireless serial connection using someone else's ISP.
Geek out.
Comments (), Permalink, Posted: Sat 12:37 CDT
