Firstly, although I’m pathologically opposed to any form of camping, at least this fella has an outstanding view of importance and managed his priorities accordingly.

He does appear to be worryingly fondling his bike tho. Nothing wrong with that of course but something that should be practised away from the narrow minded thinkers that make up most of the planet.

And in my never ending lonely search for esoteric conent to feed our fragile minds – otherwise known as briefly scanning the spam-lite in my inbox, I’m offering up these gems.

Cows have regional accents. Every Yorkshireman knows this. The highlight of a Friday night quaffing session would be a roam on the moors searching for a cheap if noticeably wooly date. Competition was fierce and you had to leave the pub early to ensure “you didn’t get an ugly one“. It went without saying though that however frantic, you didn’t want to stain your welly’s with a sheep of Lancashire extraction. Ugh, that’s just wrong.

Get your organic drugs here. Yes, it’s lick a toad day offering up a natural high and a slightly irritated aquaetic reptile. I mean you’d have to be desperate surely – give me the bostick and the back of the bike sheds. Far less hassle and not requiring a smash and grab at the local pet shop.

Kaballah Fluid promises a safe nuclear future. It’s as we suspected, Madonna is barking mad.

And finally Cyclists dismount because your bladder disease has returned. Some superb Welshness going on here with a translation shocking native speakers and ensuring much rubbing of crotch in traffic queues.

You couldn’t make it up. Which is good, as that’s my job.

In truth, it wasn’t a PC at all anymore, rather a hulking square of electronic junk spitting out random invective and refusing to respond to my increasingly desperate measures. And although my blameless motives had engineered this state of apparent computer suicide, nothing could prepare me for the horrors of going toe to toe with the Operating System From Hell.

Microsoft chuck it out of the” Windows was not “ as is their inspirational tag line “ helping me to realise my potential”. Unless my potential was as of a serial wrecker of PC’s or to hunt down Microsoft employees before dispatching them in messy and interesting ways. And it’s not like I’m a total PC numpty; in years past, I was the go to” guy for simple explanations of Extended versus Expanded memory, the data retrevial expert, the hardware guru. Honestly, I had the pen protectors and everything.

Technology has apparently moved on bloating software and gobbling up ever increasing processor power. Like a geeky Bobby Riggs facing the Billy Jean King of PC world domination, I was found wanting almost everywhere with experience offering little against the nonsensical abstraction of the XP layer.

I like to make it clear that the PC was broken before I embarked on this life wasting experience. I know this to be true because it was I that had broken it while stupidly modifying the registry on the reasonable grounds that it was editable. Stuff stopped working, worked to rule or worked at all the speed needed to hunt down a lettuce. Worst of all Media Player was cattled beyond all redemption leaving my MP3 player locked in a world of two hundred tracks listened to about two hundred times.

Continue reading “It’s not very PC.” →

Apologies if they are old news. But sent to me by someone at work and I just had to share.

If Carling did advertsing and all that.

… I give you Senator William McAdoo on Warren Harding whose “speeches left the impression of an army of pompous phrases moving over the landscape in search of an idea. Sometimes these meandering words would actually capture a straggling thought and bear it triumphantly, a prisoner in their midst, until it died of servitude and overwork”

Now that is a proper put down. Reminds me of a few people. No, since you asked, I wasn’t including myself.

No, this isn’t some sudden epiphany or life changing statement, something rather more mundane but intensely irritating. Today’s paper offered up a story that the Government has spunked£1 billion pounds of taxpayers (er, that’s our then) money on transport initiatives in the last ten years. Doesn’t sound much I hear you say well here’s the kicker; none of that money has actually been spent on building anything at all. No tunnels dug, no stations opened, no roads widened.

This litany of serial incompetence can be subdivided into£250 million on CrossRail feasibility studies,£74 million on “tram preparation” whatever that is,£20 million on Thameslink consultancy and a further£20 million deciding what to do with the road to Stonehenge? How can that cost£20 million without actually lifting a shovel? What kind of study was it? Loads of£2000 a day consultants ensconced in a Bahamas’ hotel wondering “well what about if we cladded it with jism and dead antelopes, that’d be authentic“.

My personal favourite is 32 million squandered by Fat Boy Prescott commissioning “Multi Model” studies whatever the fuck they are. The reports are currently being recycled as peat somewhere in the “stuff no one gives a crap about” filing room in Whitehall.

I could go on but burst blood vessels await. The TimesOnline has more.

It’s hard to know what’s worst; the fact that congestion, environmental pollution and the power of the car destroy and devalue the country every single day while a billion pounds is squandered, or that someone is earning a hell of a living grazing off the fat of Government stupidity.

So in the style of “if you can’t beat them, join them“, I’m considering moonlighting as an environmental impact advisor (dirt). This means being paid to ride my bike.