Wednesday, October 29, 2008

Satan's Layby

So I'm in Milton Keynes for the next 2 days. I'm being punished for something, probably something I said. The problem is I say so very many inappropriate or off colour things that to narrow the field down to a specific thing that the universe is punishing me for would be an exercise in futility.

Milton Keynes is a good example of why town planners in this country need to be stopped at all costs. They are the mid-level management of evil genius. Macciavelli's brain damaged cousins. Moriati's accountant. You get the idea.

I think it was originally designed as somewhere to train people in what to expect in the event of the emergence of a post apocalyptic dystopia. It's the city equivilent to soylent green. It's completely inavigable because everywhere looks like everywhere else.

There is a nice chinese restaurant here though. See how I am ever the burning ray of optimistic summer sunshine?

Monday, October 27, 2008

That's another New Orleans Saints....

.....First Down!

So Pedr was down this weekend. We drank, we ate, I bought a coat and a yellow music stand. All was well with the world. We also started an inappropriately named NFL franchise on Madden 09 on my Xbox 360.

2 grown men laughing like school children because the first game of the 09 season was the Rimjobs at the Browns.

All of this highbrow activity was a mere preamble to the main event, which was the San Diego Chargers (booooooooooooooooooooooooo!) @ New Orleans Saints (WHO DAT!). Only not really, it was the New Orleans Saints home game but at the awesome-o Wembley Stadium, the awesome-est stadium in the world (It's a fact, no need to look it up).

I won't bang on about the game itself - which was a massive improvement on last year's and was amazing to watch - you can check out espn for that. They did throw a tailgate party this year and the Lt. Governor of Louisiana was knocking around the place apparently, as were the Louisiana tourist board.

There were give aways, NFL Experience things going on and live music. Which was mainly jazz, which is fine because it was what I term 'good jazz'. Not the musical in-joke, clever, smug and awful sounding 'experimental' (for experimental, read discordant) crap that is more interested in mutually assured musical masturbation than in entertaining anyone beyond their own little clique. I'm glad we have made the distinction, now we can move on.

Wait. I should clarify, in case there are musical types out there (Rob I'm talking to you) - I mean good in a the pure 'Good Vs Evil' sense. The Devil was clearly the superior fiddle player to Johnny but he still sounded like shit because he spent all his time trying to be clever instead of trying to sound good.

So, the jazz. Lots of brass too, which was bent towards further jazziness. The rain did not deter the enthusiastic folks whose job it was to bring a little piece of Louisiana to a car park outside a stadium in Wembley. I'm sure the irony was not lost on them.

Of course, jazz isn't really my kind of thing - even good jazz (see definitions above). It suited the setting, anywhere else and I would have been ready to stab someone in the eye with a clarinet reed after the first half hour. The whole thing though was a really good idea. nearly 20,000 attended the tailgate, it generated a really cool pre-match atmosphere and certainly made my mind up about who I would be cheering for. After we'd decided to be Saints for the day (a bigger deal for Pedr as he is a 49ers fan), we proceeded to bully Nick to do the same. Undeterred by the weather, the Louisianartians and the NFL(I think that's what people from Lousiana are called.....) put on a great day that even made this curmudgeon marginally less scowly.

Highlights? For me it was standing in a queue. There is nothing more fundamentally British than queuing. We are born to it.
There were these guys wandering about with beer dispensers, Pedr and I joined a queue for one of these selfless slakers of thirst. After a few minutes it became apparent to Pedr that there was no one at the end of the queue, the beer man had gone off somewhere. We were standing in a queue that had nothing at the end of it, it was the single most British thing I've ever done and unless I am able to subjugate other countries at will, or take up casual racism, it's the most British thing I ever WILL do!

It genuinely filled my heart with unparalleled joy. Our queuing powers had temporarily evolved. No longer did we form queues to get something, we now formed queues and waited for a good/service to arrive at the front of it. And so it was, the man returned replete with fresh beer.

The second thing was the flags. Everyone got a 'Be a Saint' flag in the stadium. Essentially this meant it was possible for there to be no actual Saints fans. None of these flags indicated allegiance to the Saints, they merely encouraged it in others.

Downside? Another British thing. Local radio DJs. The NFL comes to town, very American. Louisiana come to town, bringing their amazing food (more on which later), music, dance and atmosphere with them. We had to do 1 little thing, just one - get a decent guy on the stage. Seriously how hard can it be to find someone who wasn't made in a vat with the rest of these countless and pointless pricks?! Here's a clue whoever made that decision - get someone who fucking knows something about the game, or the teams, or anyting at all. This should preclude all DJs. Just let the NFL send their guy OK?!

For those outside the country, over here it's tradition whenever there is an outside event to use a Radio DJ for announcements. No one knows why it's a tradition, but slavery was a tradition until someone noticed that it was inhumane. I'm not saying that Local Radio DJs as events presenters/announcers are as bad as slavery...... that's for you to decide.

Wednesday, October 15, 2008

Praise the Lord

Sometimes I really wish I had an imaginary friend like those Judaeo-Christian religious people,then I could use the phrase 'God hates me' when things aren't going well.

Please provide suggestions in the comments section that's as punchily whiny as this exclamation of woe.

Saturday, October 11, 2008

People you may know....

Like most of the Interwebbed world, I am Facebook's little revenue generating bitch. I've forgone the obvious whining about facebook post for far too long. It's time to face the fact that my complaints enfold with a tedious and predictable inevitability.

If I was in therapy, it would be called 'embracing who you are'...


Of course if I was in therapy the rest of my interaction with the therapist would be called 'Assault with a deadly pencil shapener'.

Anyway, I digress. Facebook.

This is not a complaint about the new layout, it's a complaint about people who complain about the new layout. Even lamer than these people are the people who set up groups for people to join so that they can all whine like little bitches with skinned knees together about how much they don't like the new layout. The peak of lameness, in this particular sub-category of troll-like lobotomy experiment, is those who set up groups with a target of n Million people to join, and if they do Mr Facebook Man has said he will trash the new facebook!'.


The guy who is raking in untold gabazillions of dollahs as a result of the additional ad revenue sat down and thought 'I know, I'll tell a fat kid with a serious skin complaint and questionable personal hygeine who lives in San Antonio in his parents basement that if he, with his untold popularity, can gather together 10,000,000 people into an imaginary gang, I will forego the advancement of my evil plan'.

So. There's those people. And to those people I have a message (cos they totally want to hear what I have to say). Here's my message, ready?

Leave. Seriously, leave Facebook. If you hate it that much, fuck off. Do you know what your little online clubs do? They make more money for facebook, that's right dumbass - more pages = more revenue, also it provides Mr 'I'm throwing my head back and laughing like a Viking' Facebook Man's targetted ad system even more data on his hapless revenue drones (that's us by the way, in case you are still struggling with the concept).

They don't care OK? I've hated the fucking thing since they allowed you scum to bombard me with crapplication invites every bastard second of every bastard day, but I am still there all the bastard time like the weak willed addict I am. If you leave, I will respect you as you will have the courage of your convictions, if you stay - just roll over and accept that you are nothing but a money counter.


So. Targetted ads. Why is facebook periodically trying to encourage me to get breast implants? Can they double as ear-muffs?

...And finally...

People you may know..... I think Mr Evil Facebook Man has gone a bit loopy here. the logic behind this particular feature appears to be 'Does anyone on you friends list have a relative or have any contact whatsoever that matches anything in youtr profile'.

Yes. I do know that person' mum. Would I go for a pint with them? Probably not. leave me alone.

Yes. I do know that person went to the same Uni as me, he was a nob then and now he's a nob with a job. Congratulations ut I'd still rather use crushed glass as eyewash than have him associated with me in anyway.

You wouldn't think it, but I actually enjoy writing this stuff, it's quite cathartic (hey! have you been talking to therepists!).

Friday, October 10, 2008

English (UK)

This is just a note to software designers. English (UK). That is just fucking English. I will accept it as a valid option when you start putting Espanol(Espana) and Francais(France). There should be 2 options:


*stir, bait*

Thursday, October 09, 2008

Cereal Killer

I'm trying to start eating breakfast at the moment but I can't go around eating a pig every morning, which is pretty much what I do when I roll out of bed at the weekends and cook a farmyard slaughter on toast.

So. Breakfast cereal. As a general rule, I only eat Shredded Wheat when it comes to breakfast cereal. First of all, it's yummy. Second of all, when it succumbs to the the fundamental flaw that affects all breakfast cereal, it's yumminess doesn't diminish.

Which brings us to the fundamental flaw of all breakfast cereal. Milk.

The love affair between breakfast cereal and milk is beautiful but sadly shortlived, ending in mushy, inedible goo. Cornflakes are really quite nice, but by the time you've sat down, they've collapsed like a fat man on a paper unicycle and have all the appeal of brain fever. I've recently decided that I like Rice Crispies, this was appropo of nothing, it just popped into my head and I obeyed. So now I like them. Unfortunately they succumb to the squoodge-making lacteal embrace even quicker than cornflakes, which makes for some extremely quick, not very pretty, cereal consumption.

Surely someone should be inventing some kind of edible, tasteless, imperceptible cereal laminate? Fucking scientists pissing about with the fundamentals of the universe when they could be laminating my breakfast and making things hover! Unless of course they intend to make giant doughnuts once they are done, in which case I am willing to forgive them.

Being the positive, burning ray of summer sunshine that I am, I will look on the bright side. I generally roll out of bed around 15 minutes before I need to leave the house for work, so having to consume a bowl of Rice Crispies in the 30 seconds it takes for soggification to begin is probably helping me in some perverse, none indigestion related way.

PS Anyone who suggests any kind of chocolate flavoured cereal should be in any way associated with breakfast, kindly join the 'Gene Cleansing' line. You are wrong on every level and you are beyond redemption. That goes for you sick, perverted Nutella deviants too.

Wednesday, October 08, 2008

Talent is for losers

I am pleased to report that my guitar playing has advanced from '12 thumbed monkey with Parkinson's' all the way up to the border between 'Please God make it stop!' and 'Appalling mediocrity'. This is a mere step below 'Oasis'. Go me.

In more positive news, my ability to tinker with guitars is improving by degrees. Unsurprisingly my innate geek ability to play with screw drivers, wire cutters and sockets vastly outstrips my musical talent.

Tuesday, October 07, 2008

The Balance of the Universe - [ADDENDUM]

Sometimes good things happen, sometimes bad. Often they are combined. Like giant Toblerone. It's chocolate but when you eat it, it attempts to pierce the roof of your mouth and stab you in the brain.

US Electoral campaign. Democrats: giving the appearance of the things that are admirable about America. Sarah Palin: Representing a worryingly large number of people who see Deliverence as a guide to life.

I have a personal example of course, otherwise this wouldn't be a proper whinge would it?

Using my amazing powers of sitting around on my own browsing the interweb, I managed to locate the entire run of the West Wing for a mere 50 of your English pounds. Being a geek, I immediately thought 'w00t'. That's the good part. The bad part? They don't have it in stock. I know - you're shocked. A lesser man would fall to the flaw cluthing at his chest screaming 'WHYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYY?!'. I'm made of sterner stuff than that.

Still, 7 seasons of awesomeness will keep me occupied for a few more weeks!

[ADDENDUM] Huh, how about that - the universe actually helping to illustrate my point. Firstly, you should know that like a lot of companies, mine is going through some changes - but we were well ahead of the game in that they started well before Cap'n Crunch introduced a new, exciting, economic turmoil flavour.

So they are doing away with the structure and punting a bunmch of us about into other places, whilst remainign where we are. Confused? you should be.

Anyway, we were supposed to move to one new division and we are being punted to something called 'Outsourcing Services'. We were asked if we had any concerns. I mistakenly assumed they meant it and I proceeded to ask lots of questions and make my views known. I think I mangaged to convey the geenral feeling that OS are a bunch of fucking monkeys who's sole purpose is to make life for people with actual jobs as difficult as possible. In addition, I'd rather lick the fiery arse of a napalmed Guy than transition to that division.

On the plus side, as a result my Project Manager (the OS denizen who informed us of this glorious news) seems to be implying that I won't be on this project anyway after April. This isn't a massive plus on first look, but it does look like he is going to foist a bunch of actually useful training my way in order to further empower my glittery illusion of competence. Huzzah! Also, one of the courses is called PRINCE II. It all depends if that is like The Godfather II, or more like Troll II. Time will tell!

Friday, October 03, 2008

'Tis the Season to be Ranty

Over the years I've acclimatised to stores selling Christmas paraphanalia as soon as Easter is over. OK, in most cases this is an exaggeration but I certainly saw Advent calendars and the like for sale in September.

More worryingly people were bloody well buying them.

Anyway, you live with it and simply content yourself with rolling your eyes in a superior, holier than though (holier cos I know that Christmas is in fucking December!) way.

I can even live with the adverts for Christmas gifts before we've even had the opportunity to carry out the traditional burning of the effigy of a revolutionary papist idolator.

However, this concept of shopping for Christmasin the middle of summer appears to have invaded my family's psyche. My brother sent me a text at the beginning of September declaring how he ahd bought the family's Christmas presents, including mine. Smug fucker.

Then my mum calls me and starts asking what I want for Christmas, she wants to get me 'something useful' and she won't take no for an answer. In fact she has issues with me buying dad presents and goes positively mental if I suggest I am going to spend anything on her. Stupid woman. Or is she? It could be a cunning ploy to illicit more and more thoughtful gifts until she has everything her big heart desires. Devious cow.

Anyway, talk of Christmas anytime before December always confuses me and I block it out as insanity. However, as I've mentioned, she is an insistent woman and not slightly built. So I provided her with a list of options - not something I am accustomed to doing as it's basically telling someone to buy you something which is distasteful. I've tried to keep it reasonable in the vain hope that she sticks to a budget.

So, dear santa. Please give me one of the following:

1) A thing that plugs into my radio in the car that gives me DAB
2) An espresso machine so I can annoy colleagues by drinking coffee that actually tastes of coffee
3) A DVD boxset of the origianl Godzilla movies. AIIIIIEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE!
4) Super Powers.

I am well aware of the irony in this post.

Thursday, October 02, 2008

Answers on a Postcard.....

I haven't seen anyone not associcated with work in some way for over 6 weeks, and before that I have no idea. I'm going insane. I need to get out of Surrey this weekend but not so far that I can't get back inside a couple hours if I need to. Friends inside that radius are all busy or have better things to occupy their time than keeping me away from sharp objects.

Answers on a postcard (and by postcard I mean comments section :D) please, I am about to go axe-happy on a trout farm.

Save the Booleader, Save the Trout.

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