Moaning old buggers.

Leaning on the bar in the Hole in the Ground with Milt and Raul last night my attention was caught by two guys on the other side of the bar. They were giving the barman Mark, a decent chap by the way, a hard time.

Apparently these old buggers were unhappy with the service, wanted assurances that their pint would be topped off properly this time, and also wanted to use the same glasses as before - which Mark advised them he wasn't supposed to do because of Health and Safety guidelines.

Listening to them moaning I felt incensed, I hadn't seen these guys before, so what they hell were they doing in my boozer - moaning. That's our function, only we have the right to constantly harp on about slow service and short measures.

Bloody cheek!

A button and some wool.

A conversation in the pub last night started with a button falling of Milt's coat and ended up with the memory of my Mom shouting at me for using all of here wool up.

You see we got talking about the practice as kids of button and string spinning. By threading some string through two opposing holes in a button, tieing the ends together to form a loop, "winding" the button up to then spin it very quickly by pulling the loop taught.

The momentum of the spinning button would then wind itself up in the opposite direction and away you went again. Some buttons made an interesting noise - easily amused in those days.

So, not having any string I used some of my mom's knitting wool. However the process quickly made the wool break and another 2 foot length was purloined. The trouble was this wool had been ordered specially for some knitting project and there now wasn't enough left.

So I got a bollocking...

Currently listening to: Seasons in the Sun by Terry Jacks. I'm not depressed - honest!

Girl next door.

I had email this morning apparently from "the-girl-next-door".

She is seeking boys, who is sweet, with a ador for a gal.

I can see a problem here as the the-girl-next-door is a retired police segeant.

Anyhow I'll fire off an reply email, but I'll pretend to be the guy from the house two doors up the street.

Currently listening to: Window Shopping for Blinds by The Beautiful South

Killing prostitues for fun.

I don't think it is uncommon for a parent to be asked by a pre-teen offspring if they can have the latest computer game. The parent then probably questions the high cost of the game, but after a period of "parent-child negotiation" they leave the store - game in hand.

Would they allow their children to have the game if it was described like so:

• ...where the player is able to engage in sexual practices with a prostitute, then (in a separate act) kill her to retrieve the fee.
• An interactive ode to gang banging, California style, "Grand Theft Auto: San Andreas" covers a vast territory...
• Tommy embarks on a driving rampage, robbing and killing prostitutes and driving over innocent pedestrians.
• The player must kill as many people as he can using the most vicious and devious methods. The first time he kills someone he is urged to smother them with a plastic bag.
• There are 32 different areas of the body where victims can be shot - with a variety of gruesome results.
• ...the people can be run over, shot or dragged beneath your car. At one point a rival is dragged around on the bumper creating huge streams and trails of blood in remarkably gory scenes.
• Players are invited to hack their enemies to pieces in a bloody rampage. They can use the amazing boomerang Machete, the Scythe and the head-popping Sledgehammer.

Many older parents likely have the memory that computer games are like Tetris, Space Invaders or Prince of Persia. In fact I'd wager many probably haven't played a computer game in the last 10 years - if at all.

I think they'd be horrified if they peered over their kids shoulders one evening whilst they're "doing their homework".

Currently listening to: Up Town Top Ranking by Althia and Donna

Justice

Bill Gates is apparently the most spammed man in the world - oh the justice of it.

If he really is getting 4 million emails per day and Micro$oft are able to filter it so that Bill can get on with his job of world domination, then that must be a really neat piece of software.

I wonder if they might consider making the software open source, then Joe public can enjoy a spam free existence.

Wanna buy a Rolex, medication? Need a bigger chopper?

Currently listening to: Mirror in the Bathroom by The English Beat

Is it the heat?

Live Shot the Texas based Real Time, On-Line, Hunting and Shooting Experience are developing a web site where for $150* you will be able to take a pop at real animals with a rifle controlled remotely via the web. Their site is very slow at the moment - I wonder why. More info can be found here.

Maybe some clever soul will hack the site so that the gun can be pointed at the board room or the executive car park.

The Israeli army might consider evaluating the concept, then they can shoot 13 year old school girls remotely and not incur the cost of manning their observation posts.

* additional fees for meat processing and taxidermy work

Search for Aliens

A conversation with Milt in the Hole in the Ground recently made me download and install the latest version of the Search for Extraterrestrial Intelligence (SETI) screen saver to see how quickly my latest computer could crunch a block of their data.

Whilst poking around the SETI site I realized I originally signed up with SETI in May 1999 - five and a half years ago. Since then the distributed computer network has provided over two million years of computer time. Impressive stuff.

By the way, It seems can process a block of data in about 2.75 hours on a Mac G5 2.5Ghz whilst working on the machine during the day, and after leaving it running overnight when I'm not, usually, working a block gets returned in just under 2 hours. I don't know how this compares to other computers because SETI don't seem to produce the statistics that show that - I think they used to.

I guess were looking for ET not trying the benchmark the performance of our computers.

Smelly Cat.

My cats smells!

Not really, really stinky, but a little bit wiffy. Understand it's BO rather than flatulence. She's a bit fat and lazy and doesn't spend as much time grooming herself as she should - mind you there are parts she can't actually reach.

Not much going for her really being fat, ginger and smelly.

Anyhow, my partner found an article in a magazine, or was it on the web, that suggested you could groom a cat with Downy - a fabric conditioner.

Doesn't sound right to me, she's going to end up well pissed off - and very, very fluffy.

I wonder what spin cycle should I put her on?

Currently listening to: Kitty by The Presidents of the United States of America

The Hole in the Ground.

It is likely I shall be referring to the Hole in the Ground quite regularly so it is a good idea to provide you with a little more information about the place.

The Hole in the Ground is the name we - Milt, Raul and myself - use for the local pub that we frequent. Milt chose this name because the place is basically a bit crap.

Given another choice within easy walking distance, we wouldn't bother with the place. It is often dirty and frequently smells. In fact on evenings when a pub quiz, karaoke, or disco are scheduled we avoid the place altogher and visit a slightly less crap pub somewhat further down the road.

The Staff in the Hole in the Ground aren't bad, they are just hindered by a pub management company that are completly clueless. Oh, and there isn't any beer, just lager and nitrogenated (is that a word?) keg piss.

Actually strictly speaking that isn't true. There is beer - but as I haven't seen anyone actually drink it I expect what you'll get served has been in the pipes for days.

Oh humm!

Your skin colour.

About once a week I visit a local aromatherapist for a treatment.

Gazing at the ceiling one afternoon I had the idea that she should add a dye to the essential oils that are used so that it was obvious which parts of the body had already been done. Thus, a treatment's progress was obvious for the forgetful or easily distracted.

I also pointed out that should this process be adopted industry wide, there is the added bonus of an therapist being able to see whose clients are whose.

She didn't seem to think this was a good idea.

Maybe she's right - I can't see Brussels agreeing on a colour scheme.

Currently listening to: Bring Her Back by Garry U.S. Bonds

Do I need one of these?

This is the text from a spam email I got this morning:

Extend sexual life ride
Encouragement sexual performance
Satisfying rocklike hard-on
Extend toughness and endurance

What do you think they are selling?

A motor-cross bike?

Manners maketh man.

Why is it that life's usual courtesies are overlooked when it come to email?

I often spend considerable time researching and writing a detailed email to someone, to not receive any kind of response - not even a thank you.

Adding to the irritation are incoming emails from friends and colleagues that contain a 'copy and pasted' message or a screen shot together with a subject, if you lucky enough to get a subject that is, something like:

WHAT IS THIS

No "hello how are you, how have you been keeping", just a shouted message.

I feel like responding with something like "Sod off and learn some manners", or "Turn the friggin' caps lock off you moron" but you don't. Do you?

Instead you wade through line after line of text each having two or three words on it - because the text has been quoted, re-quoted, wrapped, re-wrapped and quoted again by numerous email clients - trying to work out what the hell they want.

And their excuse for this?

I'm not very good with 'putas!

Well learn! You learned how to wash, dress, eat with a knife and fork, use a toilet. Even how to sporadically say please and thank-you in conversation, can email be such a challenge?

Here's a starter.

That's me done, now I'm off to my anger management class. :)

Manners maketh man.
William of Wykeham, Motto of Winchester College and New College, Oxford (1324 - 1404)

Currently listening to: Never Let You Go by Third Eye Blind.

Day one of the rest of my life.

Following in the foot steps of my drinking buddy Milt I decided to start a blog.

Trouble is I'm sitting here staring into space struggling to think of anything to say. This is a problem that completely goes away after a couple of pints, however it's a bit early on a Sunday morning to be downing Carlsberg Export in the Hole in the Ground.

Anyhow, I can't stare at the screen any longer I have work to do then I can watch the footie - Newcastle v Man Utd. I'm not a fan of either, but I think I'd like to see Newcastle win.

But why?

I don't really like Fergie very much, him and Wenger do far to much whining. Not much of a reason I know but there you go...


Currently listening to: Sunday Morning by Maroon 5