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March 27, 2005
Tall vertical structures of Berkshire
A metaphor.
A metaphor, for what?
For whatever, as I'm not telling. For now.
Though I will admit to having been unaturaly delighted to learn that Kyrgyz is not a typo,
and to have received much pleasure indeed from the new episode of Doctor Who. And this is a classy touch (when judged by BBC standards anyway).
And now to get on with making productive use of my forthcoming week off work. I'm particularly looking forward to all the decisions that I won't have to make.
Posted by adhoc at 05:57 PM | Comments (0)
March 23, 2005
Back the Bid: London 2012
London.
2012.
The Sunshine Capital of Europe.
Imagine an up-ended Millennium Dome being used as a part of a giant reflecting mechanism, redirecting surplus sunshine from drought troubled regions of Africa for the benefit of sun-starved rain-sodden London.
Wouldn’t it be glorious?
There’s even a suitable site available in East London that’s already earmarked for redevelopment.
Wouldn’t you just love it?
London 2012: Sunshine Capital of Europe. Petition below. All I need is enough support to generate some commercial interest. Back the Bid!
UPDATE: this campaign has been aborted due to the underwhlming apathy with which it was received. However, I will not be withdrawing the annoying publicity, as this is your pennance. As for me, I shall be moving to Paris. Vive le Bid!
Posted by adhoc at 03:04 PM | Comments (1)
March 22, 2005
moist yet miserable
Water falling from the sky is a magical and mysterious phenomenon. When I was young(er), I imagined giant watering cans above the clouds refreshing the earth, or smiling angels playfully pouring water over the joyous children below, or even god having a piss (but only when I was inside looking out through a window...). I remember puddle-jumping being a pleasure of unequaled joy, and mud-pies being more entertaining than anything my Mum would try and make me eat.
However, as I have gotten older, rain has become colder and wetter.
The only feasible explanation that I have for this phenomenon is that it's due to a recent increase in space gerbil activity. Space gerbils consume human happiness, and a byproduct of this process is the cold wet precipitation which we know as miserable weather. This is why we have cold rainy weather when people are miserable. Of course, if anyone has any alternative explanations please post them below. Especially if you can provide any information that will help me implicate the pigeon mafia in this miserable weather conspiracy.
Posted by adhoc at 03:22 PM | Comments (3)
purile humour
[Thanks to Alan via Scaryduck]
Posted by adhoc at 03:19 PM | Comments (0)
March 21, 2005
observation of a dyke-otamy in a restaurant
There's something about the way lesbians chew that provides an unmistakable indication of their sexuality, but somehow I just can't put my finger on it.
Posted by adhoc at 02:51 PM | Comments (3)
ummm - so which decade is it, exactly?
Following my confusion brought on by the Welsh rugby victory, I am finding myself increasingly confused as to which decade it currently is. For instance:
Unions call off local government strike
Leader of the Tory party acts like a fascist reactionary by engineering a row or two about Gypsies and travellers for vote-winning purposes. This is only made more appalling by the fact that New Labour are engaging with the shocking 'debate' on popularist grounds rather than condemning it as the immoral bigoted piece of shit it actually is.
Billy Idol releases a new album
Posted by adhoc at 02:49 PM | Comments (0)
Pride and Bread(-of-Heaven-)udice
Ha!
Wales win the Six Nations.
Yay!
First Welsh Grand Slam since the 70's.
And so I got to do jumping up and down and shouting at the telly. With pleasure. For once.
Perhaps an over-hyped renaissance for Welsh rugby, though absolutely ideal excuse for me to demonstrate the unstoppable power of my Leek-sabre and the total offensiveness of close-harmony singeing with my all enveloping Dragon-breath (eeeeeeugh . . . nasty).
For the record, Wales also won the under-21 Grand Slam as well.
Posted by adhoc at 02:48 PM | Comments (0)
eBay saved my life
with the resurrection of my PC - a new processor for the grand sum of £9.99 + postage.
Posted by adhoc at 02:47 PM | Comments (0)
Stand Up Speak Out:
Nike and anti-racism initiatives. What a great idea.
It's about time a global brand with a questionable history and reputation for unfair working conditions and the exploitation of child labour in the developing world announces a commitment to the publication of the results of detailed social and ethical auditing of the production of its goods, isn't it?
No?
Ah - apparently that's not it.
Instead and much less excitingly, we can support Nike in tackling racism and discrimination by getting ourselves wristbands as part of a one-off fundraising campaign / marketing initiative. Which is not even about Nike offering on-going and sustainable support to anti-racism initiatives. And which also sidesteps many of the important yet less public related issues many are campaigning about, such as: the need for football clubs to better integrate with and contribute to the communities in which they are located, the lack of Asian professional players, the apparent glass ceiling for potential coaches and managers who are not white, and the role of the most popular sport in Europe in shaping the options and attitudes of people to those who are different to themselves etc.
I will go get me a wristband, but not until the day that tabloid newspapers are in a position to recognise that their condemnation of racism at football matches on the back pages is the same story as any condemnation of asylum seekers or the fuelling of islamaphobia that appears on their front pages.
Posted by adhoc at 02:45 PM | Comments (0)
March 17, 2005
Meanwhile in much better news . . .
I have finally had my job confirmed as permanent. Yay me!
This means that if I go out celebrating this evening and so turn up late for work tomorrow entirely trashed and still being lairy, that I’ll get paid off with 3 months salary instead of the paltry 1 weeks worth I’d have been due this morning.
Posted by adhoc at 06:01 PM | Comments (3)
wrestling with trains
“This train is being held to regulate the service”
What the fuck?
Twice in two days I’ve heard this nonsense.
Stopped stationary. In a station. For minute after agonising minute. Why could this be?
Because someone has decided that quality of service is about punctuality, and that being punctual is about the time at which you arrive at a station to pick passengers up. Not about what time you’re delivered to your destination, which would be more meaningful. And not even about how long my journey takes. Which is the single most important issue, after all. I have ordered that the idiot who authorised this train holding practice be beheaded at once.
Because the malevolent gods of the railway are pleased by human sacrifice and suffering. So perhaps the progress of my carriage was actually being restrained by the invisible hands of a trackside deity.
Because I was late.
Posted by adhoc at 05:57 PM | Comments (1)
March 16, 2005
Pop goes the . . .
. . Party:
I had a Saturday night out in Nottingham that resulted in me getting home at 5pm on Monday afternoon. In a radical change from the lazy pleasures of the previous weekend, this last weekend involved leg-knackering quantities of dancing and an indulgent amount of socialising with old friends and meeting of quality strangers alike.
. . . Punk:
and it wasn’t all ‘bangy bangy’ music (this is a technical ‘muso’ term, I believe). There were stages with bands on them. On the mosh-tastic punk front, P.A.I.N. were good though not up to their usual standard, but the Inner Terrestrials were right on my fun frenzied wavelength. There was also ska, hip-hop, jazz, folk, a cocktail bar, deckchairs and sofas, a café and the narrowest staircase in the western world.
. . . Pills:
see party. Different pills have also greatly helped with the recovery process.
. . . Politics:
also see party. It was a fundraiser to provide a convergence centre for any protestors planning to visit the G8 meeting at Gleneagles golfcourse in Scotland later this year.
. . . Pants:
which nearly needed changing after I noticed how far round the dial the needle on my car’s speedo had managed to revolve. At the time, I was following one of the Safety Cars from the Silverstone racetrack along the A43. As it had ‘Safety Car’ written on the back of it in huge silver letters, I thought I’d be safe enough. But then my brain kicked in.
. . . Pus:
I have a spot on my nose that has not yet actually gone pop, but is so large that when it does I’m worrying about confusing seismographic devices into triggering geological disaster warnings.
. . . Processor:
my computer has died. With a non- metaphorical puff of smoke, my chip is well and truly fried.. . . so I am currently feeling somewhat lost while awaiting the salvation of the eBay budget chip-replacement service / gamble and ignoring a voice in my head telling me that I should have turned that motherboard voltage down a bit before now.
. . . Pedantry:
my punctuation is all over the place. And in a soul-wrenching personal revolution instead of putting it right, I'm going to the pub.
. . . Pyrrhus:
has currently got nothing on me. This is a work reference of epic proportions.
So, while I’m waiting to discover just what is going to be popping next for me, I’m wondering if anything has gone pop in your world lately?
Posted by adhoc at 06:27 PM | Comments (0)
March 11, 2005
Inadvertent Singing
“On her way to work one morning
[her? Surely you are a him, Mr. Chaotique?]
“By a path alongside a lake
[actually I was on a train going along a track]
“A tender-hearted woman
[ha! wrong on both counts]
“Saw a poor half-frozen snake
[saw some poor confused expressions, and . . .
Eh? What’s going on? I’ve got these songs in my ears, but has my mouth been moving? Oh blimey ‘eck, I’ve been singing. How long for? How loudly? And look at all these commuting people trying exceedingly hard to appear unfazed and ambivalent. Oh crickey. Look at all the manifest apathy. What a bunch of miserable communters they seem.
Anyway:
This morning, while on a crowded train, I had an iPod induced bout of inadvertent singing.
This week's commuting soundtrack has moved on from my atmosphere-altering random tune game, and has become what I thought was a one person Northern Soul festival. My joy did brimmeth over when I discovered during my first coffee / sanity / blog-reading break that I am not on my own. Thank you. MikeTroubled-Diva's Bloggers’ Disco now has a an astounding playlist, and appears to be getting suitably out of hand with its inability to know when it’s time to stop. So if you are yet to nominate a tune, then go do it now!
This is all way more interesting than the continual erosion of my budget at work, the Golden Grovel award my car insurance company is on the verge of winning (for making suitable amends for their most spectacular cock-up ever), or the fact that the majority of people in my office appear have embraced the guilt-cleansing spirit of collective wackiness that is red nose day by not turning up for work.
Posted by adhoc at 12:45 PM | Comments (1)
March 09, 2005
The Bloggers' Disco: Meme Aid
Memeaid: doesn't sound much like a refreshing drink.
But it is a bandwagon . . .
And for charity . . .
So I say "Tainted Love - Gloria Jones". Because it always makes me dance, no matter what kind of mood I'm in. As does Teenage Kicks, and many many others, but, for once, rules are rules . . .
If you're clueless - just click here for instant enlightenment
Posted by adhoc at 06:02 PM | Comments (0)
Pixeldiva: now brought to you by the number five
5 years ago . .
Remember Y2K? It seems like an unfeasibly long time ago, given that for the last few years time has been whizzing past me in a pretty blur. Though looking back to 5 years ago today . . . well, I had a lot more hair, my millennium hangover had just about disappeared, and I was living a totally different collection of dreams. And whilst then I was still being creative with a pen and paper, some people had already embraced the advances of the interwebnetthing, and were using if for more than looking at pictures. And as an admirable demonstration of this . . .
Pixeldiva is 5 today.
And I like birthdays, especially when it comes to the celebrating bit. And I like Pix. So I get to write about it. It being a blog-birthday. Just what do you call a blog-birthday? It's not technically a birthday. Is it a blog-day? Or could I just call it a B-Day? (Oh crikey. Absolutely not. For both reasons.)
Well whatever today happens to be called, it is certainly a day worthy of celebration. And to mark this momentous day, instead of doing what most normal people would do and getting a set of commemorative plates produced, Pix has given her el diva an extreme makeover of spectacular proportions. Which is some showing-off of the highest calibre. So if you haven't seen it already, go admire. But not till you've finished reading this.
The End.
Now, go forth and adulate
Posted by adhoc at 11:22 AM | Comments (1)
March 07, 2005
where I check I'm not an accidental Grownup
Please bear with me while I have a brief moment of self-reflection. I have this urge to check that I haven’t accidentally become a Grownup.
When I was younger, I could spot a Grownup. They were always given away by their tell-tale signs of growed-upiness. For instance, my younger sister has been middle-aged since she was 4. And for the sake of sibling balance, I haven’t. Anyway, I've found myself thinking about such tell-tale signs and applying them to my current self. Here goes with a few:
!) Writing numbered lists. I remember my Mum writing a lot of lists when I was little. So I associate writing lists with being growedupity. And I do write a lot of lists. But is this excuse for actual self-organisation evidence of a desire to be growedup? I have no idea. But I’ll keep the shift key held down just to be on the safe side.
“) Having a job where I find someone else’s words coming out of my mouth and saying, “I can consult my team on your proposal and feedback to you all by the end of the week. There’s going to be some resistance, but I can handle the questions and my gut feeling is that this is a go-er.” At 9am on a Monday morning. Entirely guilty of this one. Oh god, what have I become?
£) Having a job where I find myself saying “Look, just try not be a wanker about it. I’m sure her name’s not actually pronounced cumbucket." At 9.45am. Whilst pissing myself laughing.
$) Going on and on and on . . .
%) Turning down a Saturday night invite to go mash it up at an all-nighter, and staying in to watch telly instead. I contend that this is not an age issue. It was cold, and located in Kings Cross. And everyone who did go is older than me anyway.
^) Washing my car. Oh blimey ‘eck I’ve finally done it. For the first time in my life I deliberately and purposefully washed a car of mine because it was dirty and the salty dirt might damage the paintwork. Uh oh. If I had any actual alarm bells they’d be deafening me about this.
&) Having back problems. All older people complain about the state of their backs. Admittedly, mine is shagged and it hurts a lot, but that’s because I have a vertebra that keeps dancing out of place, and not because I’m old.
*) Worrying about this size of my debt. I simply find it less stressful not to worry about it.
() Being a grumpy old man propping up the bar in a pub all day, supping a solitary pint and whacking miscreant youth with a walking stick for sport. This is still an as yet unfulfilled ambition, though I am practising.
)) Getting married . . . nearly happened once. A long time ago. And that’s close enough for me, thanks.
!!) Having children . . . erm . . .
On balance, this grownup thing is not an entirely clear cut issue. And though I am safe in the knowledge that it isn’t technically possible to have a second childhood until I’ve finished with the first one, the question remains . . . am I feeling Growedupity?
Well . . . Nope.
That's alright, then.
Posted by adhoc at 04:05 PM | Comments (0)
March 06, 2005
Something for the weekend
"Oi Mr Chaotique, have you just been sitting in front of the telly like a winter vegetable for the past few days?"
No. I've just been sitting here for the weekend.
"Are you still in front of the telly?"
Yes.
"Seen anything good?"
Well that isn't really the point of weekend TV programming is it?
Certainly not on the evidence of this weekend.
By way of citing some of this evidence, here's a question for you. During which instalment of quality televisual excitement do you think that the following phrases have been used by me?
Woah. This is way more boring that the TV-hype lead me to expect.
Why am I still watching this?
No, I'm not going to bed / the pub / make you a cup of tea / finally do the washing up. It's going to actually get interesting in the minute. It just has to. It must.
The options are:
1) The Australian Grand Prix
2) Making your mind up – the cringe inducing Eurovision vote-o-shite-o
3) Celebrity Fame Academy
4) 24
The answers are: 1 and 2.
As for Fame Academy, even I'm not that sad.
And as for 24, the latest episode is only just starting and I'm maintaining my optimistic excitement. Well it got good last week. And then there's something about X-rated TV programmes that people tried to ban on Channel 4 later. I'm no prude but . . . this should be disgustingly fucking great. With a bit of luck.
Something for the weekend just doesn't have such an interesting meaning as it used to.
Posted by adhoc at 10:08 PM | Comments (3)
March 01, 2005
St. David's Day: drinking(,) dragons and daffodils
March 1st. The daffodil-munching leek-waving frenzy that is St. David's day.
So being a celebratory kind of a guy who has relatives scattered over many a Welsh hillside, I'm sat here wondering what to drink later. Which ought not to be too difficult. And wouldn't be, if it weren't for the fact that the Welsh have the wooden spoon in the celtic booze stakes. I mean, the Scottish have fine whisky. The Irish have Guinness (and whiskey (and potcheen)). And the Welsh have . . . hmmm. I did once have a Dragon's Blood cocktail in Pontypridd, but it smelt rotten and made me nauseous. The drink was a bit nasty too . . .
So still no nearer resolving the appropriate booze quandary, and still no mention of sheep.
Which, for reasons that remain my own, reminds me that I must send a birthday card to my Grandad today.
Posted by adhoc at 11:35 AM | Comments (4)
Don't Panic! hard disk recovery help required
I have a friend. And as friends sometimes do, they need some help.
Does anyone know anything useful about disk recovery solutions?
It's an external hard disk that contains some unreproducable work that is worth money, and which has suddenly developed some unreadable files, corrupt file allocation tables and a bit of a clunking noise . . .
I would like to find a way of being able to say 'Don't Panic!'
And my panicking friend really doesn't need yet another lecture on doing more regular backups.
Posted by adhoc at 11:34 AM | Comments (0)