Funnies

Have you seen this excellent comic site? xkcd

It's usually science/maths jokes for geeks, but I like today's one too!





And also there's Perry Bible Fellowship - twisted but brilliant.

I Just Can't Carry On Any More

If anyone tells you, when the fuel light comes up on the car dashboard, that you've got at least 30 miles-worth left in the tank... you might want to correct them.

Happened to me last week - light came up, spent the rest of the day doing short hops around London, while half-heartedly keeping an eye out for petrol stations without success. Driving back late at night, totally fed up after a really good day that I knew all along was going to end utterly miserably (you know who you are), on the way back the few petrol stations whose locations I knew were all shut.

Approaching Putney Hill I remembered one that I knew would be open, less than 3 miles away.

But it's not a shallow hill. And what little fuel there was left must've all shifted to one end of the tank. So the car started spluttering and then stopped. Halfway up a hill.

Initial management:
Handbrake, hazard lights, profuse swearing.

Further management:
More swearing.

Then I thought, if I could free wheel back and turn into a side road, the petrol would move & at least I'd be able to start engine again & drive somewhere avoiding the hill.

Nup - the power steering wouldn't work with the engine off & I couldn't help steering back into the kerb.


I don't like relying on people when I don't absolutely have to (apart from at work where there are appropriate colleagues to share problems with).
But like anyone at times of non-life-threatening crisis, there are certain people you instinctively go to for help or support.

Like when you're feeling so ill you want to die (even if it's just a cold).
Or when anything else really bad but completely get-over-able happens and you just need someone.


Muuuu-um.

A short while later, Dad drives up bearing a plastic can full of petrol.
Not once does he say "Told you" (which was probably worse 'cos at least then I could say something in return), he just helps me fill up & we go home.


Moral of the story: Never forget family.
I'm really lucky that we are quite close and we've never had any real problems with each other, as I know many families have had.

In this world, there are only a few people with which you have a true permanent connection; a special connection that you don't share with the remaining 6 million vertical apes jostling for attention on this big ball of rock.

If ever you can, fight to preserve what you have - love (or at least tolerate & be there for) your family.


Saying that, I probably ought to get in touch with them actually, I haven't seen them since... oops...

Gobby

Driving home just now I approached a roundabout, 4 exits.

Most of the traffic was coming from the high street on the right, going across the roundabout and trying to come off at the left exit - except the cars on the left were backed up due to a zebra crossing; so there was a line of cars queuing from right to left, not going anywhere.

On the other hand, I wanted to go across to the exit opposite. There was an empty section of the roundabout ahead of me marked Keep Clear, presumably for this very scenario. As no cars were coming, I started off.

Suddenly this skinhead chav whizzes round from the right, screeches to a halt at the Keep Clear box (which is still empty 'cos I've barely moved) and starts swearing at me through his open passenger side window, across his girlfriend who's sitting in the passenger seat.

I smile (which I admit was done to incense him further) but gesture for him to go through (there's nowhere for him to go of course but I thought it might calm him down a bit) - no, he stays there and carries on shouting at me.

At least I think he was shouting. My windows were shut and there was classical music on the radio so I couldn't hear him. It was almost like watching a TV documentary. This man looked like a shaved baboon, baring his teeth and gnashing away - goodness knows what he was saying but I don't think it was complimentary; I can't lipread very well, but I think he might've said something about wanting a banana...

He ranted on for about 20 seconds.

His girlfriend was looking pretty unimpressed already...

and then he spat at my car...

which was quite a way away from his...

so most of it went over her!



I'm trying to imagine the conversation they must've had as he drove off...

Minor Keys & Extra Notes

I like trouser pockets.
I always have a lot of stuff in mine.

But yesterday they were so full, I was limping - so I emptied them properly for the first time in weeks.

And I found:

- (only) 76p in change
- a biro from a medical rep
(for a drug that I will never use because the pen was rubbish)
- keys for my car & new flat
- keys for rented removal van
- keys for moving-out-of old flat
- keys for a friend's flat (in case I need somewhere to stay mid-move)
- keys for mum & dad's house (my copy)
- keys for mum's car, on her key-ring the size of a bracelet
(& her set of house keys)
- mobile phone (covered in scratches, no idea how they got there...)

- a small hole

- a tube of men's facial scrub
(bought earlier when getting hair cut, not a permanent pocket resident)

- pad of post-it notes covered in random guff, including
- email addresses
- numerous laughably outlandish, surreal or woefully inaccurate sketched designs for new flat
- a policewoman's phone number (not in a good way, sadly)
- list of people I must must ring before last week
(none of whom I have rung yet)
- lyrics to a song (...in Swahili)

- my wallet, containing:
- driving licence
- credit card, debit card, Oystercard, (Bodyshop card...)
- photos of two ex-gf's (now replaced with guitar plectrum*)
- photo of me with long hair
(often used to prove a point in pub conversations)
- $228 US dollars
- 50 Kenyan Shillings
- 1000 Tanzanian Shillings
- 10 South African Rand
- 1000 Mozambican Meticais
- 10 Swaziland Lilangeni
- 30 Euros
- £0.

- £11 of Blacks vouchers (worth more than all the African money put together... and only slightly less than the dollars at current exchange rate!)


So had I been mugged, they would've got a reasonable amount off me but would've needed a Bureau de Change before they could make any use of it.
Or else a camping shop.

And they could've got into 4 properties & 3 vehicles... so hooray for being lucky enough to not get mugged in London.


I ought to wash those trousers anyway...

* Real guitar plectrum obviously. Not a photo.

Brain Test

Read this while I write a proper blog post.

For me it goes mostly clockwise, then changes to anticlockwise after I look away & look back.

Just nice to look at I guess... ;o)

Bloody Telecom (BT)

Ok, so I was in a bit of a mood yesterday.
Sorry folks... the pills are kicking in now...

After someone's helpful comment, I discovered that Virgin were doing a far better offer, so I rang BT to cancel what I'd just arranged with them.

Given that I was leaving them, I was expecting to be a low priority call and to be kept on hold a lot. But good business sense or not, they were really taking the piss.

First I ended up in some kind of loop:
- Statement A: "You can organise your account online at www...."
- (music)
- Statement B
- (music)
- Statement A again
- ... etc

After 7 or 8 minutes of this I got fed up (as I assume they wanted me to) so hung up & tried again.

This time I purposefully rang the wrong departments; I figured then I'd speak to a real person sooner.

Real person #1 said he'd put me through to the "correct department" - it was a different pre-recorded loop. Bastard.

Real person #2 was a techie in an Indian call centre; he insisted on putting me on hold for 3-4 minutes at a time while he talked to his colleague to give him details of my account... and yet refused to hand me over to his colleague so that I could give him the details myself. Odd... almost like he was taking ages on purpose...

After 15 minutes of this, I talk to Real person #3, a bloke with an East-End gangster accent who told me I didn't want to leave BT now, did I? Sounded really quite intimidating.
Eventually he gave in trying to convince me and put me on hold for a further full ten minutes before finally picking back up and saying it was all sorted, the account was cancelled. Phew!

Three quarters of an hour it took me to leave BT.
I'm sure it didn't need to take them so long.

Bet it doesn't take anywhere near as long to get customers to join BT...
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In other news, Orange have changed the voice of their automated system. Gone is the stern, older lady who sounds like a strict school mistress; she's been replaced by a sexier-sounding younger woman.

I swear, that computer was flirting with me...

Home Sick

Start with positive things:
OK, I suppose it is nice to be back in the UK & see my family again & to not be at work for three more weeks.
But that's it for the positive...


I am so totally fed-up right now & it's only going to get worse.


It's frustrating enough to have to ring a call centre.

But to have to ring ALL of them? It'd drive you mad.

I'm in the process of moving house & I like to be organised (or at least to give it a go).
I'm trying to get things like broadband connection & council tax & utilities & everything else sorted out soon. But that's not going to happen, oh no.

Everyone's a bastard. It's all about long-term contracts & one-off fees & paperwork.

eg Orange won't provide broadband unless I upgrade my mobile account & already have a BT landline; but BT won't provide a landline unless I take out some kind of 12-month package with them; and they're saying it'll cost £125 just to reconnect because my stupid vanishing ex-tenant (without asking me) swapped the lines over to NTL(now defunct).

And repeat.
eg Council can't give me a parking permit until I have proof of address; can't have proof of address for 2 weeks because of postal strike & the time taken to send out new bills.

And it goes on & on & on.

Coupled with frustrating/upsetting personal issues, plus the fact that I don't even HAVE a new address (oh, did I forget to mention that, my new flat doesn't have any floors; just bare concrete all over - the workmen are working though (if you count sitting on your ass & smoking incessantly as "work"); and I also need to decide on the layout & colours of the kitchen & bathroom - I don't bloody know, I'm a bloke).

Gah! Grrrr! Nnnnng!

And of course there's packing, & moving house...

Studies show that moving house is the single most stressful thing you can experience besides death of a loved one.

Meh... s'pose I shouldn't grumble.
It could all be much worse.

Hometime

Well, my African adventure is nearly at an end.

I've had a great time, but I'm really looking forward to finally coming home (this weekend).

Haven't had much access to News while I've been here - have I missed anything?
-S-