So long, farewell, auf Wiedersehen, goodbye

I'm putting blogging on hold for a bit... Yes, I know you won't spot much difference.

Real life™ is rapidly becoming a misery, so blog would just become one big boring rant. I will return if/when teh happy does.

Take care.
C'riz

Television

"The drug of the nation, breeding ignorance and feeding radiation"
as the song goes.

By now long term reader(s) will have realised I'm strange and don't do what normal people do. Yes, you guessed it, I have very little time for television.

In fact my interactions tend to be Ma screws up the tv and shouts at me to fix the tv now Now NOW! as she's missing whatever mind numbing pap they are showing. I'm not over fast at doing this, as there are 4 remotes (tv, video, dvd, satellite), and because I don't use them it takes me a while to work out a) which one is which and b) what button to press. (She normally screws it up by changing the source to something that isn't switched on - no signal = no picture).

The last time the tv broke in a smoke leaks out way it made no difference to my life at all. Well apart from the Ma driving me insane about finding the "perfect" tv to replace it. When the end days come and it's just me left I won't have an idiot box, and will have hours of entertainment with the tv licensing people who assume you can't live without one, and thus you must be lying and will keep sending you demanding letters to stop lying and start paying.

I do have the odd small weakness though. Not that I watch them on a tv of course. The Americans have had the "season premiere" of CSI Las Vegas on Thursday night. And thanks to the evil powers of the interweb and my rather fast broadband I can start downloading an illegal copy on Friday, and 3 minutes later can be watching it. Why bother waiting 6 months or more for it to come here?

I must admit to being in geek heaven. The episode opens with this:

Yes, it's a "bullet time" shot of morpheus from the Matrix kicking ass. Ok, so he's called Ray in CSI, but he'll always be Morpheus to me. It's almost worth losing Grissom to get Morpheus.

So I have 45 minutes of tv a week until Januaryish. I feel slightly dirty, the bad kind of dirty.

Made in England

That bloke with the wrong way round name who deserves to die painfully for the Diana dead guy song has a song called made in England. It includes the lines:

I was made in England like a blue Cortina
&
If you're made in England, you're built to last

Which has to be total and utter proof that he knows bugger all. When did you last see a blue cortina? I could give him 10 points if he'd chosen, say, a green land rover, but cortina? The mk5 having the dubious honour of being the most scrapped car ever. Millions made, naff all survived.

Er, where was I? Ah yes, made in England. You don't see that on products any more. People will tell you it's 'cos everything is made in the far east, because they can do it cheaper and better than England ever could. These people are wrong.

I will now reveal to you why we don't have a manufacturing industry any more:
Brass plaques.

We lost it because we kept putting beautiful brass plaques on our products, and those clever foreigner types started using stickers and undercut us (due to not having to pay for brass plaques, or men to fit them), and bang! we have no industry.

I'm surprised we even won the bloody war. Exhibit a:

Note the carefully riveted on plaque?

This be a generator for a merlin plane engine. You don't need the info the plaque tells you to enable you to fit a new one, 'cos if it stops working your plane drops out of the sky and goes splat. It also feels a colossal waste of resources, given the plaque and generator, and plane it's attached to is likely to be going splat in an occupied part of Europe within months at best.

If you visit one of the museums where they have the dug up remains of a ww2 spitfire on display, you will see 1 x mangled merlin engine, 5 x rusty bits of could be anything metal, and a 1m square display board full of recovered brass plaques.

While I'm going on, I'll give you my other theory on these things. It was a simple anti German tactic. Hans shoots down your plane, but cannot steal your secrets 'cos all the plaques on everything say made using patent number.... and it wouldn't be the gentlemanly thing to copy when we got it recorded as ours first.

Despite costing us our industry, I secretly love the things. In my shed I have a lathe, built in 1942. Despite the war, it has a beautiful how to use plaque. My shed also has a modern lathe made in China that is 1 year old. The instruction stickers are peeling off already.

Tubetastic Thursday - Most Haunted

Rumors of my death have been greatly exaggerated.
The tape didn't get me, but Idiot Girl is having a very good try.

It works like this:
On any given day, state that you intend to move into new house tomorrow.
Sensible people then point out the 5 billion things that still need to be done.
Idiot Girl pooh pooh's simple things like there being no electricity, and if we just work at it, it will be done in time for tomorrow.
Work your little socks off while Idiot Girl pretends to lean on a shovel and supervise.
Rinse and repeat.

Anyways, it be Thursday which means... Tubetastic Thursday.

I bring to you:
haunted uk. (caution, contains sweary words).



This be a p*sstake of most haunted. Which for people lucky enough not to have access to uk tv is a lets go investigate the scary ghosts.. oooh scary... argh! Mind numbing pap tv for the masses.

I think my favourite bit be the Derek Acorah section from 5:42.

As a rational scientific mind owning person, I obviously think all this ghost stuff is a load of made up rubbish.

It will probably come as no surprise, but Idiot Girl is into this in a BIG way. Currently cannot do bugger all useful 'cos of the leg, but can somehow manage to go to "the spooky church" (her words not mine) twice a week.

Suspending disbelief for a minute, I'm going to pretend there are the spirits of all the dead around us like Idiot Girl claims. I'm still left with some problems with the whole gig.

You're a spirit right... and presumably you can thus go anywhere, and watch anything you would like happening in the world... so why would you decided you like to come to an asbestos clad shack in delightful Barno on sea, just so some git can charge two quid a pop to the gullible?

Why do we never get reports in the newspapers that go like: Gullible person dies after being told to dig up treasure which turned out to be world war 2 unexploded ordinance. Are you telling me there isn't a single spirit with a twisted sense of humour?
It's a right wheeze Gerald, you get the medium to tell them to go and find the family treasure, and the suckers go off and dig where you tell them. Boom!

N if these "medium" types can hear messages from spirits, and there's spirits everywhere, why don't they go insane in short order, what with the constant noises of all the spirits? 1 spirit per dead guy, there must be 1000's of them on every square meter of land.

Of course the ultimate proof that it's a load of honk : Idiot Girl buys it. I've never failed by following the rule of do the opposite of everything she does. I live my life by it. It works with films, books, people, everything!

The cassette of doom revisited

I have played the cassette of doom.

I'm not going to put the video on here, for it is obviously a genuine doom generator.

Not 48 hours after playing, I am told due to an unexpected hospitalisation I won't be meeting the lovely Debbie Mcgee, Manic Misty next weekend after all. Hugely disappointing after lots of yay! grade looking forwards to. So I don't want to inflict doom on you all, or people you know, or as in my case friends of people I know.

I will risk saying Squeakypony was half right, as one side was blank. The other contains some unknown Lancastrian comedian who is rather awful at the teh funny.

Message ends.

The cassette of doom

Whilst at Idiot Girl's future new gaff today I noticed yet another pile of previous person's (ie. dead guy) possessions has been dumped outside for disposal by Idiot Girl.

One item being an 80's cheap n nasty hi fi. With a cassette tape in it. Curiosity has got the better of me, and I have the tape here on my desk. I haven't played it yet, just in case it's like the video tape in the ring. Plus I've got to find a tape playing machine somewhere.

I don't know why, but if I had to guess what was on the tape, I'd go for it being a very heavy bagpipes version of The Northern Lights of Old Aberdeen.

Anyone else want to have a guess?

Additional: Will play & video it, and post on Monday so you all get to die too...

Tubetastic Thursday - Smoke gets in your eyes

Another week nearly killed.

I bring you a double bill:
Smoke gets in your eyes



The platters of course. I suspect when most people think of this song they think of the platters as the original version. These people are wrong. It was written for the musical Roberta by Jerome Kern in 1933, 23 years before the platters came along.

Just about everyone has had a go at covering it. I have a bit of a soft spot for this song, which possibly explains why I have 25 different versions of it on my hard drive.
Why do I like it? Not sure. Perhaps it's a longing to experience lurve the way he describes it, so sure it's real. "I of course replied, something here inside cannot be denied", but I would like to prove the friends wrong and not suffer their derision. Yes, I know, V. Unlikely.

I also think it would make an excellent choice for the funeral. It's short, sweet, and would lighten the occasion beautifully.

Part the second:
Verity Thirkettle shows how it's done on harp.



Had to include this one, not only is it a really nice version, but with her name, could you see her doing anything other than playing harp? It would be the one time skool careers advice got it right, brickyard, down t'pit, brickyard, Verity? That's a nice name, you should play harp...

An experiment in perception

Or examining the mind of Idiot Girl. Yes, I know, a stupid thing to do.

I went to Asda for some shopping at 9:30 pm. Due to them digging up the bloody car park again the shop shuts early at 10pm. Which means... bargains! on stuff that must be sold today due to "sell before" date. Stuff that is perfectly fine, but computer says becomes deadly toxic at store closure.

Then I saw it... clearance flowers. Girlies like flowers I am told. So I bought Idiot Girl some. Took them straight round to her house.. I have brought you a present.

"Oh! they're lovely!" she exclaims.

Part one of the experiment is complete. All I need to do is wait for the results of part two. Which doesn't take long... Idiot Girl spots the reduced price ticket. The brow furrows. Idiot Girl spots they have cost 10p. Anger occurs. "You tight git!", and holds them away from her in revulsion.

The question is, how have the flowers changed? They're still the same flowers, if they cost 10p or the not reduced £4 they will have cost in the afternoon.

Exhibit A: Flowers. It was later stated that they do smell nice, and are "not that bad".



What other experiments could I try on her?

I did find a 3 CD box set in the rubbish bin whilst filling her car with diesel, but decided it would not make a good present. She only listens to whatever the radio tells her is hot at the minute.

I did have a moment of doubt if I should rescue the cd's from the bin, as technically it's stealing. Then I reasoned the original owner obviously doesn't want them, Asda won't even know they are there and will destroy them with the other rubbish, and if I don't like them I can give to someone else / charity. Reuse and save the earth.

The thing that prolly did swing it for "take" is I was filling up Idiot Girl's car... so it's her number plate on the CCTV.

The code

I quote:

Never violate a woman, nor harm a child. Do not lie, cheat or steal. These things are for lesser men. Protect the weak against the evil strong. And never allow thoughts of gain to lead you into the pursuit of evil.

This be the code of Druss the Legend. I like to think I can follow said code, perhaps struggle a bit on protecting the weak.

We took Idiot Girl to b&q, the most evil of DIY shops in existence to buy crap for her house. Oh.. a big heap of discounted tiles. Muggins gets to dig thru the pile and find out how many boxes of "warm yellow" ones there are. For warm yellow are 20p per box of 22 tiles. So enough tiles to do the kitchen for under £2.

Later on, Idiot Girl says to the Ma, we should have bought all the blue tiles as well to tile the bathroom. Ma says I may be persuaded to take Idiot Girl back to purchase tiles. Idiot Girl reveals her cunning plan of swapping the price tickets on the blue tiles from £1 to 20p from previously purchased yellow tiles. Ma tells Idiot Girl that I will take her to B&Q, but will not be involved in any price diddling because I am honest and do not do that sort of thing.

This conversation is later relayed to me, in a hey! tomorrow you get to take Idiot Girl for tiles! Won't that be fun! sort of way.

So doth this mean I am the righteous one for having principles and sticking to them?
Or perhaps I'm stupid for not taking advantage, after all B&Q don't want the tiles, otherwise they wouldn't price any of them so low?

I think perhaps the real truth is, my sister is a pikey. Her 8 boxes of 20p tiles scanned at £40, so original price is £5 a box. But at £1 they are "ripping her off".. 5p for a tile is too much.

The thought of her scheme makes me feel dirty, the bad kind of dirty. I think I'll stay in the car.

The Koffi Lounge

After many years, and gajillions over budget the former civic theatre in Barno has reopened. And it has a poncy coffee shop "The Koffi lounge", that advertises on the local radio. Their advert offers "Barista trained staff", and "Coffee like you've never tasted before".

Hang on a minute... I can just about get my head around the concept of a job title for a bloke who makes coffee, but, barista trained? So not the real deal, just trained...

~wobbly lines as we go to the training session~

Hi, I'm Steve and I'll be your Barista trainer for the day... Watch closely pupils...

This is a kettle. And this is a jar of nescafe. Throw some nescafe in the paper cup, and add hot water from the kettle (does anyone need showing how to use the kettle?)

Then say "twoquidmilknsugaroverthereifyouwantemloveenjoyyourmeal."

Thank you class, you've all graduated with honours.

As to "Coffee like you've never tasted it before".. well that's not hard is it? Believe me, you've never tasted coffee like I make it either. Well, nobodies ever lived long enough asked for a second cup.

Sod it, I'll give you my secret coffee recipe.

1. First you need to select the right coffee... it be called "rocket fuel", it's the one in the jar amusingly shaped like a bomb.


2. Bang plenty in the cup, and then add an extra teaspoon for every hour of sleep you've missed.


3. Following the Dave Lister mantra of "triple caffeinated, quadruple sugared" you now need at least 3 teaspoons of sugar. I have caught some people making my coffee with lots of artificial sweeteners, which of course is full of wrong.


4. Splash of semi skimmed milk for the healthiness factor. (Works like extra large whopper meal with diet coke).


5. Drink. Wait for the buzz / death.

Tubetastic Thursday - Darling Lorraine

Hello pop pickers!

Today I'm taking you back to the year 1959. Unless you like buying compilation cd's of the "these songs never were successful, but aren't all terrible" type, then I doubt you'll have heard this one.

I give you:
The knockouts - darling Lorraine



Ok, now to try and explain this one. Well, first it's a great doo wop song. Two and a half minutes of spine tingling goodness. I must also admit to a liking of the idea of 1950's America. The stylised version we get from tv, the cars, the clothes, the music, drive ins. Yes, I realise it was not like that.

So who would be my darling Lorraine?

Lorraine Baines from "back to the future". Ok, four years too early, and fictional, but never mind eh?

Snail's graveyard

I guess we've all heard the theory that elephants go to the same spot instinctively to pop their clogs. Well, methinks it may also be true of snails.

Plz to observe exhibit a) :

Everyone's dead Dave.

There's actually a lot more of them in a 2 foot square area near my big shed. If I was to collect them up I'm sure I could do a Pol Pot stylee shell photo. Not that I would.

Two questions for the clever people:

Why so many dead snails? There be no poison there as far as I know.

Why do I like snails, but hate slugs?

Comfort eating

I am doing it. How do I know?

4 days in a row I've sat here and eaten a bag of cheese n onion crisps. I hate cheese n onion flavour but there's nothing else left as everyone else has eaten the nice flavours. Really not a good idea to buy the mega 36 pack size when 12 are not liked by anyone, even if it is a genuine tesco mega offer.

Omm nom nom. Crispy goodness that tastes odd. nom.

It begins

And I'm going to try not to rant...

Today marks the opening of the "I'm officially evil" season.

Idiot girl now "owns" two houses. New house is full of stuff left by previous dead owner, for he kind of has no use for it any more. So we truck along to new house. Plan being Idiot girl will examine her new domain, and decide what she's doing with olde furniture. 2 hours later and she's not made a single decision. Shall I put it on ebay? Should I get a house clearance bloke?

I know... I'll phone my idiot mate to come round and give her the ten penny tour instead... yeah... Oh look idiot mate.. an old sock.. woo!

By this point I've had enough. "Bugger this for a game of soldiers", as J R Hartley would say. Here is my clicky machine... if you want to take photos for ebay feel free. If you want to get a bloke do that instead. But some of us have jobs we should be doing while you're fucking around not deciding.

So no doubt I've officially "stormed off" and am "not being helpful".

So I do a few hours work, and it's 4:30 pm. I should point out that I've not had anything to eat yet... So I phoned Idiot girl.. what are you doing? Busy rearranging deck chairs on the Titanic... you can come and do bugger all too if you like?

Er, think I'll stay here and have food instead. Feel free to let me know when you want to actually do something worthwhile, or want driving about again.

So now I'm being "difficult"... What was I saying about not turning into a rant?

Tubetastic Thursday - Urge overkill

Is it Thursday already?

I bring to you:
Urge Overkill - Girl, you'll be a woman soon from pulp fiction.



Out of the songs on the soundtrack cd, this one is my favourite. Yes, I know it's a cover of Neil Diamond's original. But I am obviously too cool for Neil Diamond... and this one rocks more.

Pulp fiction? Well, in my opinion, ok-ish. The "Butch" segment is the weakest and lets it down a bit. Much better than reservoir dogs though.

Additional free tip:
Should you encounter a heroin overdose, don't phone round for an adrenalin shot. You be needing naloxone, and I doubt you will get a friendly dealer with some in his fridge. Keep you new found friend breathing and call the professionals kids. Drugs are bad, mmmkay?

Van full of ninjas

Seen on the motorway yesterday:

Tis a bit blurry, but it says at the bottom:
"Please note This vehicle contains no beer"

So what dear reader, is in the van? Is it a bluff and it is full of beer? Ninjas? Asprins?

Answers on a postcard plz.

Kill me now

Idiot Girl's natural state is to tell lies. True, as a social worker it's probably the first skill she was taught, but she obviously wasn't listening when they told her to try and make them believable.

So you get things like a swarm of killer wasps came in the house, killed the dog (that you can see is still alive), and they ate all the ice cream as well before resuscitating the dog (oh, that's why it's still alive then), then they flew away after threatening they would be back tomorrow so get more ice cream in or else ....

I have evolved a simple defense mechanism, do not believe a single word she says. Sadly, other more gullible humans do not use this technique.

Idiot Girl has bought a washing machine from someone on EvilBay. And can I collect it. (which of course translates to I'm telling you, not asking).

Ok Idiot Girl... ask the seller a) the dimensions so I can see if it will fit in my car, b) the address, c) a phone number. Simples, non?

Response via le Ma arrives this morning... address is: blah street, collect any time after 11am.

Er, that's not what I told her to ask, why didn't you do what you was told? Idiot Girl did! I'm just an evil person who believes the worst of poor innocent Idiot Girl.. it's not her fault.. it's a stupid seller... rant goes on for about half an hour.

Fortunately Idiot Girl has an easily guessed ebay password, so I kind of accidentally login to her account. And the message she sent is:

Hello. Could you send me ur address and a convenient time for me to collect please. Many Thanks Idiot Girl

Nice use of text speek there.... but rather lacking in the questions you where supposed to ask. Of course Idiot Girl continues to claim she did ask, despite me having proof that she didn't.

I then have the additional problem of the Ma's "I saw it on TV" view of computers. You know, how on CSI they have a blurry picture of a car, and computer whiz says I'll just see if I can sharpen it up, tappity tappity... and it's as clear as day. Or we need to stop the alien mothership... tappity tappity.. I've hacked into their control console, I'll just get it to crash into the sun...

So I have an address, and of course I can magically find out their phone number using the power of the interwebs... Er, how do I do that then? You just go tappity tappity and it comes up in flashing red letters. Er, no it doesn't... You need a name as well as an address. And when I've got a name from the electoral role search, you still need them not to be ex directory. Can't I hack into the search website and get round that?

At this point I had to make a little speech "GO AWAY!!!!!!! GET IDIOT GIRL TO DO WHAT SHE WAS ASKED TO DO IN THE FIRST PLACE".

This rant was sponsored by argh! kill me now corporation.