Four Years

Four years to the day since I got out of the you-know-where. Doesn't seem like a year since I wrote that it was three years.

Breast or Bottle?

Can’t help thinking Apple might have taken its beady eye off the ball a little here.

They’re pretty strict on the iPhone apps they approve for distribution from their App Store, especially when it comes to anything vaguely related to boobage. The merest hint of tits and/or ass will pretty much guarantee that your app will be rejected.

Sex, then, is out. Violence, on the other hand, is perfectly OK. Available now from the Apple App Store, is the delightful Broken Bottle 2 (pictured), a handy little pastime allowing you to recreate all the fun of a bar fight. Y’know, the smashing of a bottle (4 to choose from!) and shoving it into someone’s face. All good clean fun, eh?

It just seems a bit of double standard on Apple’s part. Big problem with boobies, no problem with broken bottles. Be honest, given the choice between breasts or a broken bottle, which would you rather have thrust into your face?

And while I’m having a bit of rant at Apple, hurry and get my iPad shipped, you bastards.

Out

Wow. I didn't realise it had been so long since I posted anything here. I've been quite busy, if that's any excuse. I've been doing something that goes completely against the grain. Throwing stuff out. Getting rid of stuff I've had for 20-odd years. Clearing up. As an out-and-out hoarder, this is something of a shock to the system. I'm even about to bin a folder full of course notes from my university days - but not before having a quick squint through it to remind myself of some of the stuff I used to know, and have since forgotten. But if I haven't needed to look at any of it in the last twenty(ish) years, I guess I probably never will.

Huh?

You know how you'll occasionally hear stories of patients being accidentally left with surgical equipment inside them? I opened up my old computer today to salvage some parts, and found a clothes brush inside. Really.

Blue Baio

Looks like somebody has been tinkering with Scott Baio’s Wikipedia page.

Not me. Honestly.

Hard Times

One of the things I’ve noticed since I started picking up email on my iPhone is the vast amount of spam I receive. In Outlook, I’ve got some pretty strict filtering going on (basically, if I haven’t approved the sender’s address, it gets binned), so other than the occasional peek inside the Junk Mail folder, I never get to see it.

The iPhone doesn’t have spam filters though, or at least, none that I’ve been able to find. I can’t help noticing the insane quantity of Viagra related mail I receive. So much so, that I’m starting to get a little paranoid. Seriously, who’s been talking?

New Who

Good news. The all-new Doctor Who is, on the evidence of episode 1, awesome.

Who? When?

Finally, I’ve finished watching all the Tom Baker episodes of Doctor Who. Every one of them, including the (still) unbroadcast story, Shada. It’s taken a while – about 2 years, probably – to get round to watching them all, but I’m a busy man. I have other things to do in the evenings than sit about watching old episodes of Doctor Who. Can’t think of any specific examples at the moment, but trust me, I do.

The question is, what now? Do I go forward into the Peter Davison episodes, most of which I haven’t seen since they were originally broadcast in the early 80’s… or back to the Jon Pertwee episodes, most of which I haven’t seen since… well, ever.

I’ve also got all the Colin Baker episodes, some of the William Hartnells, some of the Patrick Troughtons, and in a week or so*, I should have all of the Sylvester McCoys.

*If my download speed stays the same…  Shhhh, don’t tell anyone.

Roger

I didn't even know Roger Taylor had a single out recently, until I found it on YouTube.

Anyway, in this one he borrows a Dylan song title, plays all the instruments (including a stylophone), has a bloody good rant about... well, pretty much everything - and completely forgets the meaning of the word 'subtle'.



Yeah, I know it's way too big.

Frankie

Frankie Boyle last night was in the worst taste imaginable. Filthy, tasteless and quite disgusting.

Pretty much what I'd been hoping for.

Weekend Update

Yeah, I know it’s almost Tuesday already. What’s yer hurry, dammit?

Odd sort of weekend really. I’m told that I met former Rangers player Alan Hutton on Friday night, but I have absolutely no recollection of this happening. I can’t imagine what could have caused such memory loss.

Also, my dentist decided not to proceed with the dreaded root canal treatment he threatened promised the last time I was there. This saved me around 180 quid and a whole world of pain. It couldn’t, however, alter the fact that I had been – needlessly, as it turned out –shitting myself for most of the previous month.

Scanner

My new scanner arrived yesterday. There was nothing wrong with my old scanner, other than the complete lack of Vista-compliant drivers. Grrr.

Anyway, with the enthusiasm of a slightly nerdy kid with a new toy, I scanned around a hundred old photos that had been stuffed into a shoebox tucked away in the corner of my wardrobe. Mostly black and white photos from my dad’s travels around Europe, prominently featuring a very cool motorbike, some crazy hairstyles, no small number of dental tragedies and some seriously dubious swimwear. On the men.

I’ll probably put these on Flickr at some point (assuming the swimwear doesn’t breach some sort of decency law). But somehow I felt compelled to share this one. Unfortunately I have no idea exactly where or when it was taken.

Now, I’m no military expect, but those sticky-uppy things between the springboard and the crash mat look to me like rifles with fixed bayonets. Which, I imagine, would be slightly uncomfortable if one were to accidentally to land upon. A bit stabby. It would probably nip a bit. The Health and Safety mob would be all over that like a rash.

Always The Last To Know

Always the last to know. Like in that song by Del Amitri. You can YouTube that if you like, although personally I'd recommend Nothing Ever Happens.

Er, getting back to the point though. Why did no-one tell me about this?

I had an idea that this might not work outside the UK, but I'm reliably informed that it works in Germany, so I guess it works all over the place.

On a vaguely related note, I watched An Education last night, with the BAFTA award winner Carey Mulligan - otherwise known as Sally Sparrow, probably the best companion the Doctor never had. It was great. I'm not going to get the Film 2010 presenter's job, am I?

Oooh, not long till Doctor Who returns. Hurrah.

Sad to hear about Lionel Jeffries, who has died at the age of 83. Which isn’t a bad age.

He appeared in the movie Chitty Chitty Bang Bang and directed The Railway Children. Oh, and he was in the Adam Ant video for Puss In Boots.

For me though, he’ll always be remembered as Prison Officer ‘Sour’ Crout in the 1960 movie Two Way Stretch, alongside such British comedy stalwarts as Peter Sellers, Wilfrid Hyde-White, Irene Handl and Liz Fraser. And Bernard Cribbins as Lenny The Dip. For younger viewers, Bernard is now better known as Wilf Mott from Doctor Who.

It's probably wrong that I fancy Liz Fraser. But I do. So there.

Toyotal Recall

If I was writing a clever and witty blog entry about Toyota recalling defective vehicles, that’s the title I’d go for. But I all I’ve got is the title. Better than nothing though, eh?

I’m also working on an idea for a Schwarzengger movie about a man who never forgets a pair of testicles*.

*The working title is Scrotal Recall.

Train Heroes, Part 2

Look at this nice man, who always sits in the disabled seats on the train. What a gentleman!

And this guy, he’s a little ray of sunshine, don’t you think?

This guy is really pushing it.

 

Yeah, that’s right. Make yourself comfortable.

All I’m saying is, if you’re that desperate to sit in a disabled seat, you could at least have the decency to actually be disabled.

Train Heroes

It's nice of the train companies to provide priority seats for disabled passengers. It really is. What's even more heartening is to see those seats being occupied by perfectly able-bodied passengers, even at times when there's no shortage of seats.

These fine people are clearly so firmly committed to equality for the disabled that they're prepared to inconvenience themselves by squeezing into the seats with the extra legroom and the little wheelchair stickers plastered on the wall next to them.

What fine upstanding (and yet downsitting) people.

Gentlemen (and ladies), I salute you.

Firef*x

Every time I open Firefox, this happens:

The lesson is: Never Upgrade.

I should know this by now.

Quiz Night

The Arndeil may be gone, but the legendary Ardneil pub quiz lives on – just not in the Ardneil. The whole thing has moved, lock stock and barrel, to McKay’s.

Same day of the week, same time, same quizmaster, same format, pretty much the same teams. Even the same bar stools.

It might just work. Oh, and we won last night. That won’t last.

Oh yeah, some good news. The toothache has gone. The bad news is that, according to my dentist, it could come back at any time.

The really bad news – I need root canal work. Can’t wait for that.

Sometimes the tooth hurts…

…and other crap dental-related puns.

I’ve been suffering from toothache today, but have found some relief in the form of a tube of anaesthetic gel. Eventually.

I say ‘eventually’ because it took me a ridiculous time to get into the damn thing, due to the curse of over-packaging. If there’s one thing I hate (and there isn’t, there are lots more) – it’s over-packaging.

Getting the box open was easy enough, although I’m still not sure why a tube needs a box.*  OK, to hold the instruction leaflet. I’ll let them off with that.

Instructions for opening the tube. “Remove cap” – Easy enough. Next?

“Cut open tip of tube”. Cut open? That’ll be easy, with scissors, right?

Wrong. In fact, the way I ended up removing the tip of the tube was with – can you guess?

That’s right – my teeth. That’ll help, eh?

*Unless it’s a cathode ray tube. That’s one for the retro TV enthusiasts.