Showing posts with label Sitting on the Toilet Thoughts. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Sitting on the Toilet Thoughts. Show all posts

Friday 14 August 2009

Ruminations about cyberlife (Quite NSFW)

Tis Friday again gentle reader, I have had a nice beer or two and the weekend beckons with it's all too few arces of non-work and I am am sat in my inner sanctum, the book lined computer powered shoebox that combines, library, studio and workspace I like to call it my "think-a-torium". Now those of you who visit from time to time will be used to the circularity of my writing style, those of you who happen upon this post by accident, well I apologise now.

Being a time served geek, all be it not a stereotypical one, I have in my time, BBS'ed, IRC'ed, AIM'ed, Yahoochatted and more recently Skyped my way through many 100's of megabites of bandwidth without a care in the world. For sure having had the advantages of a "norn iron" birth has helped in forming the occasionally foaming gobshite I have latterly become. This is in part the reason for this post the other part is the Pope, old white nighty Rapsinger himself, came out the other week in sort of favour of Social networking but with warnings that we the users of same should avoid obessing.

Obsess ? Us? Surely not? We geeks are all terribly grounded and scoff at such mundane character flaws. For us the simple act of obsession is only a precursor, a spot of adolescent fumbling foreplay before we get down to the main course of being complete and utter eejits. A state amplified because most of our "virtual" lives are free from the visual and auditory feedback loops that for countless millennia have helped us avoid (most of the time) the slaps, knees in the groin, black eyes and broken noses. Alcohol has the same effect as over exposure to the the virtual world, it depresses that bit of us that is careful and considerate of others and able to see the warning of that slight narrowing of the eyes that tells you to back down.You can see that every Saturday night in the eyes of Policemen seconds after you attempt to twist the inflated breathalyser bag it into the shape of a french poodle.

I was on one of the chat clients the other nite, one I hadn't been on for some time and it has been overrun with female 'bots touting for click-thrus "Come to my site and see my sexy pics http://www.flatulent_trollop.com" it seems gone are the days of the cut and thrust of flame wars on IRC or the deep intellectual persuit of that perfect insult, the thrill of the well turned profanity trying oh so hard not to fall to Godwin's law in the alt.activism.death-penalty newgroup I wonder if that charisma bypassed dried up golum Dudley Sharp is still doing the rounds on there ... oh he was a characterless twonk, you would wind him up and watch him foam and froth for days :-) happy times.... I digress

This chat system was full of interesting names in every room ... 9andahalfinches4u, letmewigglemy48dd, stokeitharder56 (I think that may have been a spelling mistake unless there is a club for people who like to stoke boilers??) For once I felt my own handle of SlothfulGeekSocks was much more illuminating about me the real person than than 99% of my fellow chatters.

I was approached by one of the folk the chat went like this :

EvilStudMaster: Age/Sex/Location?

[I studiously did nothing my finger poised over the "ignore" button]

EvilStudMaster: I bet you never had a real man ... :-)
SlothfulGeekSocks: Yes I can honestly say that I have never had a real man ...

[Which is true, i was warned about that sort of thing at Sunday school]
EvilStudMaster: I'm Horny .. what sort of underwear are you wearing?
SlothfulGeekSocks: Marks and Spenser's value pack of 5 with reinforced gusset marvellous value for £5.00
EvilStudMaster: You are a Brit then? I like British women
SlothfulGeekSocks: I am so glad
EvilStudMaster: Wanna Fuck?

With that I clicked the ignore button and left the chat room, has the state of the world got so bad that this is representative of the state of seduction in the on-line world. Gone it seems are the days when a swain would compose lines such as this by Christopher Marlow

It lies not in our power to love or hate,
For will in us is overruled by fate.
When two are stripped, long ere the course begin,
We wish that one should love, the other win;
And one especially do we affect
Of two gold ingots, like in each respect:
The reason no man knows; let it suffice
What we behold is censured by our eyes.
Where both deliberate, the love is slight:
Who ever loved, that loved not at first sight?
I would warrant that if EvilStudMaster tried that as an opening gambit he might meet with more success in his campaign to be wrapped in the virtual arms on an on-line Venus.

Perhaps old Bendy Dick Rapsinger is right, and it is not often I agree with the Pope, perhaps we do need a week or two AFK (Away From the Keyboard) a week or two when we can touch a flower, paddle in the sea, climb a mountain (or in my case a steep hill) and as Lewis Carroll would have it

"The time has come," the Walrus said,
"To talk of many things:
of shoes--and ships-- and sealing wax--
of cabbages --and kings--
and why the sea is boiling hot--
and whether pigs have wings"

That's me I am done.. where is the beer?

Friday 7 August 2009

Remembering ,.... the undiscovered worlds of Girls

I laid it all on the line for a lassie once.
Well, okay she wasn't exactly a woman.
I was fifteen and there was this girl in the same year as me but at the High School on the other side of town... Martina
God, she was beautiful.
I had the biggest dose of "Fancy Fever" on her. Of course, so did almost every other chap in my class. I knew I'd never have a chance with her but I went to The School Social with only one purpose in mind well maybe two purposes but I was only young and had very HIGH hopes. I digress my aim goal objective thingie was to get Martina to slow-dance with me. I figured if I could just dance with her once, even if it was just that one time, well... of such dreams are young male psyches made.

Anyway, I went, figuring I'd have to fight my way through a line of chaps just to get close to her. But when I got there... I couldn't believe it. Nobody was asking anybody to dance. The guys were all on one side of the hall, combing their hair and checking their watches and trying to look cool whilst MUD, KENNY and The GLITTER BAND did their 'thang on the turntables and trying so damn hard not to appear to be looking at the lassies. The girls were all on the other side of the hall, huddled in little groups, whispering to each other and pretending not to care if the guys were watching them or not. And there was Martina. She was sitting there listening to some friends of hers. She looked nervous and vulnerable, kind of lonely and just... irresistibly beautiful.

And that was when I realized, this was my chance. All the other guys who were looking at her the same way I was, were all too nervous to go near her. So I took a deep breath, walked right over to her and asked her to dance. And she said, "No."

Nothing else. Just no. I've never felt so many different things at one time. It was like a kick to the stomach, but also like a cold fist crushing my heart. I felt like I had a fever, like my skin was on fire, but at the same time I felt frozen inside. My heart was broken. My pride was shattered. And that was when I realized I was going to throw up... and that somehow I had to make it back to the anonymity of the darkness of the car park before that happened. So I turned and started walking away. God, I felt awful. I knew it would be impossible to ever feel worse than I did at that moment. And then I heard Martina .. laughing at me....

Hey ho.. many years have passed since then and is my understanding of women any better now? Is it F**K ;-)

Friday 8 August 2008

Dieting Is Fun - My ARSE! (or Standing on Scales Tension Syndrome)

Now I am fairly close to what used to be called a "new man". I am in touch with my feminine side. I cry at some DVD's, I can iron my socks I can throw together a dinner party for 6 on the way home from work. What I am not is one of those men to whom dieting comes naturally or easily.

I started on this particular spree of under-indulgence a month ago and the exercise is OK. I didn't go all out mad and join a gym. No %^$&ing chance of that! Too much damp lycra riding up the sheughs of my portly colleagues collective arses for a gentlemen of my taste and refinement. For my increased calorific duty I walk and I believe the correct term is "briskly" around the highways, byways, beaches and forests of my locale. That bit is fine, tis a manly thing to tramp around wondering if there are fish still in that stream, rabbits in that field and convent girls playing tennis down at the sports ground.

BUT and tis a major BUT I have started to read the contents and nutritional tables on the back of consumables. I wake in a cold sweat most nights should they every start this nonsense on pint glasses. Here in the UK/Ireland it is even worse that just the figures.They have this sort of traffic light on the values just you know that 195g of lovely tasty fat laden calorie rich pre processed weapon of mass constriction is not good for you it appears in sudden aortic aneurysm red. Where as a packet of wholesome, fibrous and totally taste free natural recycled bran cardboard is in a nice summery green. Basically you aim at getting as much green and as little red as possible.... B**T**Ds! That makes it to easy!! There is no excuse anymore!

I really don't mind some of the stuff "Weetabix Oatie Flakes" are ace with ice cold milk and a glass of green tea really does hit the spot. But I ask you when the very core of your being screams out for some deep fried goodness and then to be presented with reconstituted seaweed and soya goop on Ryevita just skunders my pish!

I know! I know! smoker for all those years, overweight, out of condition, a heart attack waiting to happen yada yada yada. I know! I am trying , the ciggies are a thing of the past, I am exercising, I am forcing down my 5 a day fruit and veg portions. I am avoiding cheese like Liam Gallagher avoids Head and Shoulders. My cry is WHY OH WHY AM I SO FECKING HUNGRY ALL THE FECKING TIME? When does the urge to eat one of our cats (with a nice hot salsa) disappear. When passing a field of cows when does the "will they miss one and is raw cow without horseradish tasty?" question stop jumping to the front of my mind?

~sigh~ I suppose I will continue on this road to wellville if for no other reason than I don't want the other NotesTubbies to beat me (Chris Coates, Bill Buchan and John Mill) in the diet contest.

**PS** yes I know i had a bit of a binge last Friday, but pint glasses don't have the contents stickers on them so it must have been OK??? Right?? ~sob~ Plllleeeeeassse make it right!

Wednesday 7 May 2008

Indian Tech Support

When you make a call to your ISP's Tech Support and you are put thru to Sanjit or Rashid in Bangalore
spare a thought for the poor techies that support them!

It is well worth clicking on the picture to see it full size to get the "full" effect ...OOOO I love cables....!

Friday 2 May 2008

Interesting Government Iconography - Duck & Cover 2008

Gentle Reader a chum sent me off to this site which i know is for USians and not Paddies like me. Ireland is of course ready. Every pub is equipped with emergency beer supplies and we are all trained to put our heads between our heads in the approved manner to kiss our asses goodbye.

However I digress .. one of the downloads had some interesting pictures which could be construed rather differently than the DHS would have you believe... i present the Irish version of "duck and cover 2008"
If a terrorist shoots a big red arrow at you, use your shoulder
to pin it against the wall and then wait for help to arrive.

If you spot a terrorist or something terrorist like
blow you red "I-can-see-a-terrorist" whistle
OR if you are a bald person shout very loudly.

If you have accidentally set yourself on fire DO NOT RUN!

If you are sprayed by a potentially noxious substance please stand
and think instead of seeking medical attention.

Just in case you get trapped in a fallen building
ensure you are carrying your Light Sabre

Michael Jackson is a "smooth criminal" not a terrorist!

In the event of a hurricane or a pile of dead things
Think about the how horrible it is before getting the
F**K out of there.


If the building falls on you, don't panic, give your self a blow
job under the table, it will relax you.


Radiation is a horrible thing and it could make you get very very
very tall. If it does, be careful going through doors, you WILL bang
your head. OH and DO watch out for the big red terrorist arrows
even when you are 60 feet tall they will smart!

If you hear songs by Michael Bolton, Phil Collins or the Back Street Boyz
Get the F**K out of there as fast as you can!

If a building falls on you and you DONT have your light sabre
well you have nobody to blame but yourself!
OH and do try not to fart!

In the event of terrorist attack you might loose a contact lens.
If you do, and cannot find it, roll on the ground and cry like a
baby until someone comes to help you.

Thursday 6 March 2008

Cyclical numbers and other odd thoughts, thunk when on the toilet

The really only quiet place in our house is to be found, to be blunt, while sat upon the throne. The strains of the latest growl and grind from Slipknot are a muted rumble. The vagaries of paint color charts and carpet swatches have been left with the better half in the sitting room. Revising the minutes of the latest Operations planning meeting are a forgotten irritation. One's mind can mull over the really important things in life.

It was during one of these contemplative sittings I remembered a fact I got from my father on evening in the gathering dusk of a Sea Trout fishing expedition. The number 142857 is a cyclical number. One of those odd facts that should have a really impressive names like the Bose-Finklestien-O'Malley number, but hasn't well not unless you tell me otherwise. It is cyclical because if you multiple it by any number from 2-6 (and 1 of course) you get the same numbers
in a different order.

142857 * 2 = 285714
142857 * 3 = 428571
142857 * 4 = 571428
142857 * 5 = 714285
142857 * 6 = 857142

Hmmmmmmmmmmmmmm why isn't that useful?

That and a jiffy is actually a measurement of time ('cept is means different things to different folks) in the same way nothing exists smaller than a Planck length, nothing exists between the Jiffy 'ticks'. The smallest possible 'piece' of reality obtainable. So when someone says they will be "done in a jiffy" they can't actually do it.. cos nothing happens in a jiffy tick.... which since nothing ever happens in Lisnagunogue perhaps in needs to be renamed to be a Lisnagunogue?

....and if there is say a 20 year gap between generations... in the last 1000 years there have been approx 50 generations the number of people required for you to have been concieved is the good old 2,4,8,16,32,64,128... so 50 generations there were 2^50 =1,125,899,906,842,624 people that had to "make a baby" in that 50th generation or 562,949,953,421,312 nights of passion in that 20 years for that generation... which is around 77,116,431,975 .. errr.. productive sessions per day for that 50th generation. 77 BILLION per DAY.

Now i am told that making love burns around 100 calories for each partner (more if you have to get into and out of the wet suit) so that is approximately 112,589,990,684,262,400 calories
1 calorie = 4.184 joules which means 471,076,521,022,953,881.6 joules which is 471 Petajoules of bump and grind just in that 20 year period of the 50th generation.
Kinda puts your existence in perspective don't it?

Time for bed.
Slaun
Steve

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