Yearly Archives: 2009

Run for your lives….

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Basta de Mentiras!!!
Photo by ∞N KatuM∞Bird flu?  Pah, I fire small BB gun pellets and knock it out of the sky.  Swine flu?  Don’t bother me with such trivia, I cut it into pieces and serve breaded with a nice mushroom sauce.  Your pitiful animal based illnesses wouldn’t make me breathe heavily…let alone become actually ill.

What I have is far, far worse.  As we speak they are setting up isolation tents all around Frankfurt.  Everyone coming into and out of the city have to go through a sheep dip type affair…just to be certain that they don’t allow this thing to escape.

That’s right…I have Man-Flu.  Head swimming (not in a good way), nostrils blocked, coughing up internal organs, blurred vision, headachy sort of man-flu.

This is never a good thing to happen when you just started working for a new company.  Nor is it the best idea to head back into work with all of the above symptoms slamming into you with monotonous regularity.

Still, it’s gotta be better than staying at home, in bed, with CW looking after me…right?   RIGHT?

Shit!

The might of "The 'mite"

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marmite love
Photo by chotdaNow…I am English, so this may be a little biased.  Let’s face it though, it doesn’t count as bias if I am right….which I am…so I won’t mention that further.

What the hell am I talking about?  Well, the constantly ongoing feud between the ‘mite fans..Vege (boo) and Mar (yey).  On the surface, two very similar products…crack open that yellow top though and you will find things much different.

Marmite, is more of a gloopy consistency which makes it easier to spread.  Whereas Vegemite is the same consistency of, say, earwax.  Speaking of earwax, that quite accurately describes the “taste sensation” of Vegemite.

Let’s put a myth to rest shall we, thanks to our wonderful Wikipedia friend.  Marmite has been produced since 1902 and Vegemite since 1922…and even managed to withstand the amazing idea to remarket Vegemite as Parwill (as in Marmite like it, but Parwill)…genius or what?  So Marmite is indeed the original AND the best.

Vegemite has never managed to take off outside of Australia, whereas Marmite is popular in most places…including Australia.

The Marmite slogan “Love it or Hate it” would never work with Vegemite…Be honest, “Hate it or Really Hate it” doesn’t offer much in the way of guaranteed sales.  It’s my theory that Vegemite sells so well (albeit in Australia) due to the human fascination of sharing horrible experiences.

You know what I mean…if you go to a restaurant and order something which ends up tasting disgusting…what’s the first thing you do??  You offer a mouthful to the person you are with and say.. “Here, taste this, it’s disgusting”, or something with a more colourful use of your chosen language.  Same as road accidents, you don’t want to look…but you might see a lopped off limb.

There you go, Vegemite is the roadkill of the foodstuff world.  Whereas Marmite is a versatile product that has been turned into crisp flavours, added to sausages, flavoured Twiglets and released in various other guises.  They even do a squeezy version…in direct comparison to the Vegemite marketing idea of making it look like one of those old tubs you find in a garage with some hideous substance inside, that noone knows what it is, but noone wants to throw away…just in case.

In a nuclear holocaust…cockroaches won’t actually survive as is the popular belief..because Vegemite will be the only foodstuff left untouched.  They will evolve into a lemming-like breed of weakling cockroaches, simply to avoid having to chow down on the stuff, they will throw themselves into the molten lava running through our cities.

So, a quick recap… Vegemite is

  • Disgusting

  • A bad copy of a great product, that arrived 20 years later

  • Unpopular outside of Australia

  • The foodstuff equivelant of a road accident

  • Reminscent of that tub of stuff you find in your garage but won’t open (or risk throwing away)
  • The only thing that could wipe cockroaches from the face of the planet***

Whereas Marmite is

  • Genius

So there you have it.

I am  glad I could clear that up in an analytical and, above all else, impartial way.

Razz

*** Not necessarily a bad thing….to be fair

Super Thumb ™

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Me as a Thumb (Nude)
Photo by ConektThe fighters back off, eyeing one another cautiously..waiting for each other to make the first move.  Somewhere, in the background, cries of encouragement for either fighter can be heard.

The tension increases, a bead of sweat trickles down the forehead…slowly, the American edges forward..tensed like a tiger, waiting to pounce on the slightest movement.  The Chinese fighter makes his move…..moving, spinning kicks at mind boggling speed… so the American waits, waits for the perfect moment to arrive, he ducks under the oncoming kick  and with a swift turn to face his opponent once more..only one sound can be heard

HADOUKEN

That’s right, Super Thumb ™ is victorious once more.  Taking on all challengers and with the ability to swell to 3 times his normal size… Super Thumb ™’s Street Fighter 4 skills no absolutely no bounds.  This skill comes at no small price though, his transformation from mere skilled player to Super Thumb ™ takes patience, concentration and no small amount of pain.

That’s right, I have been playing SF4 recently…not only that, I have been playing against CW…who has taken to it like a web footed flying creature to a large abundance of H2 and indeed O.  So much so that Super Thumb ™ may have bitten off more than he can chew…and indeed have found his arch villain nemesis.

CW, or “Spinny Spinny Girl ™” has never played this type of game before…so the inevitable ass-kicking was summarily handed out by my good self the other day.  The next day, however, was a slightly different barrel of spanners.  The ratio of ass kickings, delivered to recieved, got considerably closer after 1 day… are my skills waining ladies and gentlemen?

Probably, although I thank you for thinking it, as it suggests that I had skills to lose in the first place.  So yes, when tonight rolls around, I fully expect to be getting my arse kicked….repeatedly.  I have to ask myself a number of questions though…

Am I too old?

Quite possibly…they say you are as old as you feel…but by my reckoning, with all the aches and pains I seem to get…I don’t want that to be the case.  I don’t think you are ever too hold to have a laugh.

Am I just crap at fighting games these days?

These days??  My my, how the rose tinted glasses of the past seem to be snugly upon your face dear Dave….you were never that good to begin with.

Is it considered petty to tamper with CWs controller to swing things my way?

Probably…it shouldn’t be…but it probably is – Damnit!

Am I above doing it?
Probably not…I should be…but I am probably not – Arse!

Can she be distracted in some way?
That’s more likely…but there again…with my potentially lifeless pixellated body on-screen…a team of wild horses couldn’t get her to look away.  It’s the evil chuckling that gets to me…it really does

When exactly are they going to take gullible out of the dictionary?
Ok, so not necessarily relevant, but I heard it from a reliable source some years ago and, with each new revision of the dictionary, it’s still there…

All things considered, I will take the beating like a man…an emasculated girly man, but a man nonetheless…then I will have my revenge by installing Soldier of Fortune 2…muahahahahahaahahaaaaaaa

Well…at least until she beats me at that too

Eek!

Enquiry regarding voicemail button

Stupid…not descriptive enough

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Air India VT-ALD
Photo by Drewski2112So…whilst the airlines would have you believe that flying is safer than staying in bed (or something), the general public, and indeed some of the aircrew themselves, are determined to lay this safety myth to rest.

Apparently, claims of sexual harassment within a cockpit of an Air India flight erupted into a full on, fists flying encounter that spilled into the passenger area of the aircraft…no doubt reminiscent of any number of action movies.  You can’t beat a bit of argy Bhaji (you see what I did there??).  I had visions of the in flight film being Passenger 57, but displayed in 3D…which would then have the passengers believing that “This new 3D technology is sooo realistic”…or something.  The question that doesn’t seem to be being asked is about how it all started.

Ok, “Sexual Harassment Claims”…I get that bit.  When I first read it, I suspected that it happened months ago but, due to a fatal flaw in shift planning (or a sick sense of humour), the accuser and accusee where scheduled on the same flight.  However, it appears to have happened on the flight, where the woman (rightly so) reacted and then the Knights of the Small Cock(pit) had at it…one defending himself and his innocence, and the other defending the fair maiden in distress?  Whatever happend, punches were thrown and I think we can safely say that the passengers were grateful for Autopilots…and of course the extra in-flight entertainment.

Not so entertaining though, is the wonderful example of British womanhood that was on display flying from Greece to Manchester (explains a lot).  Apparently, two women managed to get onto a plane, pissed out of their heads…and with their own bottle of vodka that they were drinking when the aircrew denied them more from the in-flight bar.  One of them, being somewhat the worse for wear, decided that what she really needed was some “fresh air” and decided to open the door….at 10,000 feet.  Apparently, when the crew decided to restrain her, she started trying to batter people with the vodka bottle.  Klassy huh?.

Personally, I would have spoken to the captain…confirmed that a cabin depressurisation wouldn’t down the aircraft…advised all passengers to strap in, and then let her open the frickin’ thing.  Some people deserve to learn the meaning of consequence.

I am sure that even the most cursory google search would return about a million pages with examples of sheer bloody stupidity in the air.

Personally, I wouldn’t mind a bit of an “Air Adventure”…maybe the chance to rugby tackle an unruly passenger hellbent on killing us all, not through malice but, through sheer bloody minded stupidity.  What happened to people just getting in trouble for smoking in the toilet…after sex…with the pilot…during takeoff….whilst stealing wine from the trolley.

Times they appear to be a’changin’

No post today….

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Gratuitous cute photoNothing to see here, move along.

I can’t think of a single thing to write about today, and it’s a slow news day (at least as far as the two news pages I visit are concerned).  I suppose I could analyse a classic hit from the 70′s, 80′s or 90′s, but frankly I am tired and can’t be bothered.

There is always the, very English, discussion about weather, more specifically about how we are having summer weather right now and that I can’t quite comprehend having to open all the apartment windows and turn on the fan at night again.

I could, but I don’t have the energy.

It wouldn’t be beyond me to mention that my arrival to the train station this morning was greeted by the announcement that my train was cancelled and then arrived on-time anyway, to a confused platform of travellers.  Or that, due to seating myself in a carriage further back than normal, I didn’t recognise the station before my stop…and started panicking in the (incorrect) belief that the train had, in fact, gone somewhere else.

I won’t though…I have no interest today.

I could go on a rant about exceedingly tall people getting on the train, sitting next to me and then opening a package of food that smelt like…well…rotting fish entrails.  Were I to choose this route, I might mention the inexcusable method of sitting next to me with that nonsense, and then trying to take up more than his share of the seating device.

I won’t though…I can’t be arsed.

I could rail about the fat, bearded (no joke), blonde woman who sat opposite me and asked me to turn down my iPod (which was set at below human hearing levels to begin with), only to then answer her phone and talk so loud that 2 people actually moved….and the sleeping woman next to her was so startled that she dropped her bag, spilling the contents around my feet…which I (being English) had to help pick up.  I might then explain that I found it interesting that this previously sleeping woman, who had the look of a New Age Kindergarten Teacher, was carrying around a pocket vibrator, a set of love eggs and a small tube of lube, right alongside her tic-tacs, gum and mobile phone.  I hope she never get’s confused if her phone is set to vibrating alert.

That would require effort though, and I can’t be bothered.

You see, I arranged to start (and therefore finish) early today as CW and I have plans this evening, which meant I was up at 05:30 this morning.  As a result, I am pretty tired right now and taking onboard more coffee than oxygen.  I fully intend to be wide awake by 4pm and be raring to go.

Just aswell, as I intend to be very bothered about my beer this evening..but unfortunately, I can’t be bothered to write anything today.

Sorry about that.

Only 18??

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Shopping? Not with a man
Photo by The RocketeerOver at CNN they ran an article entitled “18 things to teach our sons about women” Which lead me to wonder a couple of things…

Firstly, as it was written by women, why only 18 things?  There has to be more…although maybe 18 is the maximum that sons are capable of learning without suffering a haemmorhage or other catastrophic brain damage.  From what I remember of my youth, this is entirely possible.

Secondly, are they planning on running the same thing from another perspective?  I didn’t find anything so, in an effort to get in touch with my feminine side, let me present to you:-

18 things (I believe) women teach our daughters about men.

I will put the topic that the original article feels should be taught to sons in brackets, you know, for reference and all that.

1. Pick your battles

Ok, I chose the same topic here as it seems like quite an obvious one really.  By picking your battles, I mean save them up…save up all the reasons you might like to have a go at the man in your life about.  Better to hit him with everything from the last 6 months in one go and (speaking from experience) just as he is going to sleep.  He will undoubtedly be tired and is guaranteed (almost) not to argue as he will simply want this to end.

2.  Walk 2 paces in front (Walk on the outside (closer to the street) of your female companion)

This may seem a little strange, but men don’t want meek and indecisive women.  They need strong women to lead their man through the throngs of shoppers.  The exception to this rule is when he needs to get football tickets, or a new computer game…at this point it is better to give him some freedom while you pause for a coffee.  Also, it will be funny to watch him trying to keep up and get along side you.

3. Never speak during anything on television that he is paying attention to (Saying “You’re being crazy” is never an appropriate response, unless you want her to go postal on you)

Pretty obvious when you think about it.  That said, this is the perfect opportunity to get that new outfit that you expect him to say no to.  Additionally, if you feel like you need more ammunition for the bedroom chat from point 1, then make sure you do, in fact, interrupt whatever he is watching to tell him something, he won’t pay attention and whatever you need will most certainly not be done.

4. Cooking, cleaning, and taking care of kids are things men can actually do as well as women

Again, I chose the exact same topic here to address modern women and their boundless talent to manipulate stupid men (and by definition all men).  Essentially, it is absolutely true that men can do these things…and in fact should do these things.  What isn’t addressed here is the ability of the women to be able to convince the man that they should do these things without expecting you to do it in return.  This can be via a series of headaches, “womens problems” and a clever use of all points collected in point #1.  If performed correctly, your saying “Darling, let’s get Chinese tonight” from time to time, could ensure that he cooks, cleans and spends almost all of his spare time with the kids…and thanking you for it.

5. Ensure that beer and snacks are available at all times (Keep backup supplies of quality chocolate in the house for her to raid)

This is vital.  Especially when related to point 4, these snacks can be a vital distraction from having to cook.  They will also guarantee that he will be in the mood for watching sports, a show or film on TV, thereby ensuring that you can go out without even needing to ask if he is willing to watch the kids whilst you do so.

6. Buying shaving equipement and toiletries is an absolute necessity (Buying tampons and other feminine products shouldn’t embarrass you –everyone knows they’re not for you)

Let’s face it, men remain pretty much childlike and reliant on the women in their lives.  Unless you want a very smelly and unshaven partner, you will do this.  Remember though, it is not enough to simply buy the products…oh no, you must then nag, cajole, prod and push him into actually using them.  Under no circumstances get anything with flowers on the packaging as he will rebel and refuse to use them.  Make sure you buy manly sounding products such as Axe (Lynx) and Brut…anything by Jean Paul Gaultier should only be purchased for him if you allow him to set it on fire.

7. Men like to be left alone…and gifts  (Women like compliments and gifts)

Nuff said really.  Try and get gifts that are in the rough area of interest though.  Don’t buy a Football for a Rugby fan…that’s all I am saying.

8. The BBQ is for him (Earning less than her shouldn’t be emasculating)

Earning less than her shouldn’t be emasculating…it isn’t.  Men may seem to be competitive souls, but trust me on this…if you can earn more than him, he is happy…and probably contemplating how he can stay at home whilst you go out to work.  BBQs, however, are another story altogether.  There was an article recently, where a woman had decided to start the BBQ and cook before her partner got home…after the divorce he was at a clinic and can now be found working as a part time masseuse called Kylie.  The BBQ is for him…learn it, live it, love it.

9. Get there sometime within an hour of scheduled arrival (Be on time, even if she usually isn’t)

I know that this is expected…you think that you should be stylishly late…no, this is the excuse used when women are late to meet other women.  When meeting your partner you need to make sure you are late for a variety of reasons…and none of them are anything to do with you.  A man waiting for a women, where he can almost guarantee lateness, is afforded the opportunity to get certain things out of his sytem.  Flatulence for one, the chance to forget the punchline to the terrible joke that person X from the office told him, some time to check the football scores and basically the chance to remember that he is meeting you…not one of the lads.  That said, any more than an hour and he is likely to forget why he is there and wander off, like some sort of forlorn lost puppy.

10. Unless necessary, don’t take him shopping (Don’t be a pouty puppy when shopping with her)

By necessary I mean if you are shopping for a) Him, b) a computer, c) a car or d) a BBQ.  There is no other purpose (with the possible exception of his credit cards, but you should have already gotten him to provide you one of those).  If you have what is referred to as a “Gay Boyfriend” (not to be confused with a gay friend)  and he is able to adequately recommend clothing that looks good on you, feel free to push, prod, pout and cajole until he agrees.

11. Find out what his favourite team is (Find out what her favorite flower is)

I am not just talking about the name here, you have to know at least 3 players, their various team colours (home and away etc) and how the scoring system works.  Under no circumstances should you be asking “Which one is your team?” and “Who is winning?”.  This will lead to head shaking and possible loss of control.

12. If you like him, then don’t buy him a computer game; it will be the wrong one (If you like her, then don’t buy her shoes; it’s bad luck)

The obvious exception is if he has told you specifically what version, the shop to go to and preferably the serial number on the back of the case he wants.

13. To a man, smiling and nodding is the same as listening (Smiling and nodding aren’t the same as listening)

Contrary to popular belief, men do listen.  The important thing missing from the “teach our sons” article is that listening is not the same as understanding.  There is no help here for this although some women report that raising the voice about 4 octaves and about 20 decibels has had some effect in certain cases.  The most important thing to remember is that you don’t actually need him to listen and understand…you just need a sonic reflection device.  If your man is out, a large sheet of cardboard will give you the same sensation.

14. It’s never OK to cry in front of him (It’s OK to cry in front of her, but keep the blubbering to a minimum)

As said in point 13, he wouldn’t understand anyway.  Also, crying onto his shoulder and unburdening yourself is simply a way of reminding him that he is necessary to your daily life.  If he begins to realise this, you can kiss goodbye to the credit card, compliments and gifts that you have managed to secure on a daily basis.

15. Knowledge of sport and/or computers goes a long way (Personality goes a long way)

Men aren’t really interested in looks, they claim to be but they aren’t.  Sure, if they can get the looks too, they are happy.  What they want is someone that won’t start yawning the second they begin excitedly discussing that penalty decision from the TV or the shot they made in Game X.  Personality suggests conversation, men don’t want conversation where possible.

16. He will never be as important as your Dad (At some point she’ll be more important than your mother)

Your Dad will never approve of this man, or any man.  In the event of any kind of argument or emotional turmoil created either by him or both of you, your father is where you will turn.  He is allowed to criticise your choice of partner…Your man, on the other hand, understands this and is simply using it a learning experience until he is in the position of Father and will then be able to exact his revenge for years of abuse.  The first recorded incident of a woman not feeling her father to be more important than her partner was Deirdre the Dodo….and we all know what happened there…

17. There is nothing to understand about men (You will never completely understand women)

It’s true, by and large they are simple creatures with simple needs that are very easily controlled.  They spend their whole lives trying desperately to understand you, they have no time to become complicated enough for you to worry about understanding them.  If they are sad…beer and/or sex.  If they are happy beer and/or sex.  If they are indifferent…beer and/or sex.  Are you detecting a theme here?

18. Oh yeah, and no woman will ever be good enough for my baby!

There is one peril though, and that is “The Mother”.  You must remember, “The Mother” was a daughter once, and has been well schooled in these instructions.  They will be able to predict your moves and, will probably accept them…unless she was not blessed with a daughter of her own.  In these cases, the mother may be overly protective of the son and you have to tread carefully.  In these situations, be the daughter she never had….just be subtle about it and you will be ok.

Oh, and for the record…I am not saying that these are my personal beliefs….they are, however, my personal belief as to what women learn as they are growing up.. important difference.

Grin

I knew it…

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All medicinal...obviously
Photo by DOS82Check out this story from the BBC Website VERY IMPORTANT STORY.

Now, as you can probably imagine…when I first saw the headline and the first two paragraphs I was inclined to stop reading…and possibly go for a breakfast beer.  As I am sure most of you did too when you followed the link.

That said, in an effort to look like I actually researched this post thoroughly, I forced myself to read on.  Aren’t you proud of me?  No, oh…get on with it?  Ok…

Apparently, some doctors are saying that alcohol “could” dampen the bodys response to…something or other.  I mean, this shouldn’t be news to anyone, should it?.  Alcohol dampens the bodys response to…well…pretty much everything else you can think of, so why not something medical too.

The problem as I see it though is one of recognition.  If someone is given a load of alcohol in an effort to avoid brain injury caused by swelling….how will you know if it is working.  I have seen myself on Absynth…so I can safely say that I would be relatively indistinguishable from someone suffering a brain injury.

Slurred speech  – Check
Inability to focus on anything other than a cigarette – Check
Unable to answer basic questions about self – Check
Walking in straight lines impossible – Check

I question where this information really came from.  Sounds to me like a bunch of Doctors got together one night on a piss up, noticed that one of their brethren was acting like a head trauma case and, stumbling into the bouncer, got them thrown out. So theybeat him over the head with a subtle, yet readily available, ashtray and noticed the next day that he didn’t in fact have a brain injury.

One of them decided it would be great to write this up and now Chavs all over the world are rejoicing with their pre-breakfast Stella and 20-20 chaser.  The problem with that though is, again, how would we tell?

Also, “too little and there is no benefit, and too much and the beneficial effects are lost“,  apparently this wonderful theory was proved on animals.  Does this not concern anyone else?  I mean, I am not exactly an animal rights activist or anything, but are they really feeding the animals various quantities of alcohol after battering them around the head to induce the type of trauma that our erstwhile (and drunken doctors) accidentally created?  I mean sure, if they are using Guinnea Pigs…fair enough…after all, they are called Guinnea Pigs.  Maybe they could reverse it…let all the little animals have a party, call in some hookers and have a great time…then give them a swift whack on the bonce after they fall asleep…otherwise, where’s the motivation for them to keep signing up?

Oh, and in response to Don Shenkers (Chief Exec of Alcohol Concern) statement of “The fact is, being drunk increases your chances of getting into an accident in the first place.  When judgement’s impaired, we can put ourselves at risk.“:

Duuuuh, we know – it’s just that we also know that one extra beer might just save our life….

Mines an Absynth

Grin

Oh now come on!

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An "Epic" Battle Yesterday!
Photo by Ed YourdonApparently there is set to be an epic battle soon.  It is the stuff of heroes, villains, life and, indeed, death.  Kings and Queens will send troops across the abyss to their death or, maybe, glory.

No, I am not talking about a civil war, I am not even talking about a spectacular new film…so what am I talking about?   Well, it’s only Kasparov taking on Karpov in the “Battle of the Same Name (less a couple of letters)” AGAIN!.

I don’t know about you, but I am positively moist in anticipation of such a battle taking place.  I mean, this time it’s gotta be more interesting right?  Surely they have to give them actual weaponry this time.  Swords and daggers a’plenty methinks.

Alas not, it would appear that we do have the Rocky 4 of chess battles though.  With Karpov starring as Drago and training with both computer assistance, and a positive army of Grandmasters…whereas Kasparov is using only his wits, guile and anything lying around the mountaintop retreat (such as logs and a Teenage chess prodigy…wait, no, that wasn’t supposed to sound like that).

Seriously, I could only care less about this if IBM had trawled out another 20billion pound computer to prove that AI can trump..umm…I (I guess).  It will most likely be televised….televised.  As Lee Evans once said, if televised chess was to be any slowers….it would go back in time.

Now I realise that there are many people that like chess.  Whole groups of young kids come together at school to play against each other (and, presumably, to discuss how they will NEVER get laid)…I get it, to each their own…but epic…really?

If ever there was an abuse of the word epic, a chess match has got to be it.  A quick google defines epic thusly:

Very imposing or impressive; surpassing the ordinary (especially in size or scale); “an epic voyage”; “of heroic proportions”; “heroic sculpture”

Let’s analyse this:-

Very imposing or impressive: It’s a game of chess…albeit between two reknowned players…Very imposing? Very impressive: Result = Fail

Surpassing the ordinary (especially in size or scale): Chess is two people playing on a standard board.  This match will be two people playing on a standard board.  There are no razor sharp implements, no move will randomly set off an explosion under the chair.  The pieces aren’t actual castles, queens, kings or knights and the contestants will not sit on a platform 200 feet in the air as the giant game below unfolds at their every whim and command: Result = Fail

An epic voyage: The two K (something) ‘ovs will be sat throughout the entire game…trips to the little boys room do not count as a voyage: Result – Fail

Of heroic proportions: There is very little heroic about moving small plastic pieces around a chequered board.  And no, if by some chance the board is made of Lithuanian marble and each piece was handmade by blind, mute and deaf Tibetan monks using only their left index finger, a single horsehair and know knowledge of what they are supposed to be making, it is still not heroic (although the actual manufacture in that case might qualify): Result = Fail (except for the Tibetan monk…my god those guys are talented)

Heroic sculpture:  Ok if, and only if, the Tibetan did indeed carve the pieces using only his index finger and a single horsehair…I will allow the Chess pieces to be referred to as heroic sculptures.  Not, however, the players..although I concede that they look like sculptures until they actually move to make the little horsey knock the prawny thing off the board: Result = Fail (for the game) Win (for the pieces)

Based on this, if you can say that a chess match is epic, where does it end?

Noughts and Crosses – These two sides have been battling for centuries….there has never been a winner – This time, it’s personal

Tiddlywinks – Something that has a world championships…the scope for a marathon epic “get the small disc into a glass” battle is huge

Rock, Paper, Scissors – There is something about the pounding of hands together over and over and over again that just screams “Epic”…don’t you think?

So what about you?  Been involved in any epic Kerplunk battles recently?  Will you be tuning in to watch chess on TV, or possibly the more interesting “Watching paint dry” channel?

Yippee Kaiyay Muddyfunster

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Lope...some time last week - Can you help?Nope, not a Die Hard related post, not even a Bruce Willis related one…but simply and tenuously related to Alan Rickmans classic quote “Do you really think you have a chance against us, Mr Cowboy?”

In a time where the English postal service is voting on yet another strike, my postcard (and letter from the kids to CW) still hasn’t arrived….almost a month after it was sent.  Now, this is some kind of record even for the German “Throw a Six to start” postal system.

I have often likened it to the Wild West (see the reference now?), as depicted in the movies…you know, where a passing cart places a bag full of mail on a hook and then another cart, possibly heading in the right direction, grabs it and moves it further on.  Imagine that on an international scale, and you have what I believe happens when you post something from the UK to Germany.  Just to illustrate this, last year (I think), a Frankfurt postman was jailed for not actually delivering any mail for the last 5 years.  After numerous complaints and a crack investigation..they looked in his apartment and found it all.  So….

Picture the scene: The tireless overworked and underpaid British Postal Service employees, in a non-strike week, deal with the First Class stamped letter in record time and pass it to Postman Pat.  Pat, gives it to his cat Jess, who proceeds to scratch at it until it is open enough to check for any money that might be in there….upon discovering a distinct lack of monetary reward, Jess proceeds to piss on the envelope and pass it back.  Eventually, Pat or Jess remember to check the address and discover that it is destined for Germany.  After chatting to each ozer in ze mok cherman aksent for 2-3 hours, they pass the envelope onto the first person in the street that is able to recognise that Germany is a country and not, in fact, (as stated by Pat) a small town just outside Basingstoke.

The kindly trivia enthusiast is actually (and fortuitously) heading to Dover, so decides to generously give the envelope to someone with a suitcase who appears to be heading in the direction of the port.  Unfortunately, the tourist in question is just someone who bought a new suitcase (12 quid from Tesco…good deal) and heads home for lunch.

After lunch, he takes pity on the folorn looking envelope and takes a stroll to the port, where he hands it on to a ships captain.  In an unfortunate and unforseen twist, the captain is actually a freight captain and is heading to Azerbaijan..still, he takes the envelope with him and it enjoys a sea voyage with many adventures (perhaps for another time).

Upon returning to Dover some 3 weeks later, the freight captain bids a tearful farewell and hands the envelope to a captain that is heading to France…the envelope promises to write often.  After eventually being allowed through the daily Calais blockade, our intrepid envelope is handed off to someone that is supposedly heading to Holland.  Our English (and therefore reserved) envelope is tempted by the many relaxants and ladies of negotiable affection on offer, but is feeling refreshed and decides to push on for his destination.  Disguised as an overdue bill, he sneaks into a post bag with “Deutschland” written on it and waits for arrival in the land of Bier and Bratwurst.  A few hours of movement, and it ends…Lope (I feel we know him well enough now) notices that the bag appears to be swinging to and fro.  Leaping out of the bag, it is apparent that they have indeed been hoisted onto a hook atop a pole…and not in a good way.  The other, somewhat less intelligent, mail simply accept this and go to sleep.  Not so our Lope, using his unnerringly accurate origami skills, he adjusts his scratched envelope exterior into a thumb shape and begins hitch-hiking.

Picked up after only 4 hours of thumbly goodness, our story must end as we lose track of Lope…and he has never been seen again.

Can you help?  Were you on that motorway in Holland last week?  Did you see Lope getting into a truck, innocently believing that the driver was a kindly, helpful soul?  If you have any information, please email youseriouslydonthaveyourpostcardyet@postalservice.eu

And no…Lope still hasn’t arrived.

Damnit

What to do what to do….

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Photo by L. Marie****WARNING: The following post contains information of a geeky nature and may not be suitable for small animals adults children bits of fluff non-geeks****

When I moved into what I am now able to term my “extended holiday”, I made the decision to move my home sytems across to linux.  I have had occasional hassles and interesting challenges in getting used to things.  I started helping people out on forums in an effort to increase my own knowledge and pass on what I have learned.  6 months down the line and I am pretty much convinced with it.  I like it, when it is working it is as good as anything else….better in most cases.

Also, I appear to have been very lucky with Ubuntu.  I don’t seem to get the issues that people all over their forums get.  Things just seem to work for me.  I am still waiting for the nightmarish catastrophe to hit.  So that’s not it.  My dual monitor setup (whilst good) has never quite worked how I want it to under Ubuntu, but I have got used to it and am generally happy with it.  So that’s not it.

The problem is, I miss certain things…certain applications that, no matter how hard I try, I have not managed to suitably replace.  I suspect that I will be moving back to *Cue scary pre-shock statement music* Windows.

I know, I know, not exactly the post of Laughing Wolf normalcy, but nevertheless…

The question is, do I go Windows 7 or Windows XP?

All logic and what passes for my intelligence suggests I should go back to XP – but recent messing around shows me that Windows 7 is actually pretty good, and in fact seems to be what Vista should have been.  That said, I have never moved to an MS operating system until it has reached Service Pack 2 stage and I am not sure it is wise to start now.  Dual booting is out…I can never be arsed to setup two operating sytems into a state I am happy with, so the 2nd one is left alone and ends up just taking up hard disk space…

The other issue…can I get used to a menu system written by Fisher Price and icons that require me to strap binoculars to my head (backwards)..just to make them a reasonable size?

Hmm – CW is off out on Saturday, so I guess I will go for it….and leave the fate of my system in the hands of “which disc will I randomly pickup first”.

Oh please god don’t make it Mac OS (DS…that’s for you Wink )

Anyhoo, onto other matters.

Do I follow the lead of “the very bad man” and refuse to give my new colleagues my Facebook details…or do I continue my normal method of Facebook whoring?   In fairness, he has some slightly dodgy pictures on his…and mine consist of mainly normal pics of me with various women and in varying states of inebriation.

I think I have the safer option here, if I am completely honest.  That said, I do have links to this blog on there….and I am not entirely sure that I want them reading it…just yet anyway Wink

Same with Twitter…although that is as harmless as it is useless really….so I don’t see any issue there.

I already introduced them to CW at an impromptu get together last night and discovered that they really are a great bunch here…I think I can safely say that I am going to enjoy working here.  It’s not bad to be able to say that with absolute certainty, after only 3 (well, and a half) days in a place.  So different to my last place.

Good times.