All posts in category: Technology

Duck it; shot happens

Why...

Is Spellcheck watched over by some electronic Mary Poppins? If I search in Google for any number of potentially innocent things such as water sports; adult I am offered an eye-popping smorgasbord of entertainment, many of which have nothing to do with surfboarding, scuba diving or water skiing and are very rude indeed! Yet I am prevented from typing some decent Anglo Saxon swear words in a document without them getting changed or redlined. I can almost hear my iPhone nanny tutting at the vulgarity. The only alternative is to sit with Roger’s Profanisaurus (dictionary of swear words and slang) and insert (ho-ho) every rude word I can think of into to my personal dictionary so I continue to be abusive to my friends…in a language at least they understand!

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If I come to a meeting with clean fingernails and polished shoes, don’t kid yourself, it’s not for you. I have writer’s block

February 3, 2020
Entertainment/Media/Arts Friends Life Technology Uncategorised Work
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Why...

Is writing for me sometimes a pleasure and at others a chore? Today I needed to get on with the follow up to my debut thriller Fall Out, called The Bastion. But as is often the case, I am stuck. Of course it’s not directly my fault. My Muse must have deserted me for someone more worthy, or the moon is aligned in such a way that my creative juices are drier than a cinnamon stick. Whatever the cause, anything is better than staring at a blank keyboard. I have just polished all my shoes. Nothing. So polished my belts as well. Still just white noise in my head rather than a new character or plot twist. Cut my nails, tweaked out nose hair, squeezed a few back heads. Zero. I even slung an angry riposte to some fool on Facebook. Still zip. The fool on Facebook made me laugh though. After a fatuous and totally incorrect comment about deer culling that I refuted with an article from the left leaning The Guardian entitled, We must kill Bambi. Why deer culling is a no brainer the response was: “Who asked you for your opinion anyway. Fuck off.” The irony of not understanding when you put your own opinion out into a public forum, by definition invites a response, says a lot about the lack of debate in our social media age. Most bloggers just want their voice heard, not challenged. It’s me me me on a platform that is marketed as us us us! If I actually understood the origami that is ironing, I might even see if I could attack the pile of shirts that need attention. Tonight we are due out to dinner and I will be as well manicured as a teenager trying to take out the preacher man’s daughter. My host will take it as a compliment. But for me it will be as if Samuel Taylor Coleridge himself had hung the albatross around my neck.

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The joys of becoming an accidental medical tourist

January 18, 2020
Fasion Health & Beauty Food & Drink Life Technology Travel/Nature
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Why...

Do I react like a spoiled brat when forced to visit a doctor overseas? I recently returned from a trip to Asia that had me visit four different hospitals within three weeks. With more trepidation than an actress knocking on Harvey Weinstein’s hotel door, I expected to be met in Emergency by a wild eyed shaman, a witch doctor ready to behead a chicken, or a surgeon who looked like Boris Karloff. Instead I was treated to some of the best medical service and equipment I have ever seen! One hospital in Chiang Mai was like walking onto the set of 2001 space Odyssey. In fact I half expected HAL’s voice to greet me. As for the actual medication, no ‘eye of newt, toe of frog’ but drugs even I recognised. Though of course there is always a risk of a Chinese knock off, but I guessed odds were remote at the palaces of medicine I visited. What did catch me off guard was dosage. Nothing had any effect until I rang my own Dr. Frankenstein in London. “That is what you’d give a 12 year old,” which is probably the build of most males in the country. I am a beached whale by comparison. Triple the dose and all was dandy! Now I was lucky. I have insurance and was in Thailand where private hospitals put many in certain countries in Europe to shame. Even the food was so good I put on weight. I now understand why Thailand is not only the paedophiles and perverts destination of choice but now over 2m a year for those in search of medical treatment. You never know... the nurse might be a Ladyboy. I now have got my head around this relatively new phenomenon of medical tourism. With equipment this good and prices between 80% and 50% less than in the West, it starts to make sense. In fact you can save so much money that once treatment is finished you can recuperate in a five star hotel and still be in the money. Furthermore your insurance company is going to send you a thank you letter!

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That’s a wrap

December 13, 2019
Friends Kids/Family/Relations Technology
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Why...

Is the ability to gift wrap beyond my and most men’s skill set? If there is one action, I find hypnotic at this time of the year, it is the origami-like skills of people in the gift-wrapping department... or my wife. They can wrap the most obstinate and obvious of shapes in a trice, disguising the original into something totally different; a starfish into a perfect cube, an umbrella into a triangle. My wife could wrap up Michael Angelo’s David and make it a perfect hexagon, with possibly a bow discreetly tied to his gentleman’s salami. Give me even a simple rectangle like a hardback book to wrap and it’s a disaster. Scissors never cut in a straight line, or snag and leave little waves of scrunched paper along the edge. Immediate ticking off from my scalpel perfect wife. Even if I trim again, the fold at one end will be pointy while the other end will be squared off. The top of the book will be face against the bottom of the join of the gift wrap paper. The finished object will have an excess of paper so large at one end that it will look like something is trying to escape from the book; like that little monster that popped out of John Hurt’s tummy in Alien.

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I want to determine Government Policy... right after I’ve tidied my room and finished my homework

Why...

Should a 16 year-old get the right to vote? Winston Churchill once said the biggest argument against democracy is to hold a five minute conversation with a voter. God knows what he would have said if confronted with an acne-infested child whose only experience of voting is on Big Brother or X factor! There is good reason to keep the vote at 18. It’s called maturity and experience. The same reason in the UK you have to be 18 to:

Buy cigarettes, rolling tobacco and cigarette papers
Buy alcoholic drinks in a pub or a bar
Buy fireworks
View, rent or buy an 18 rated film
View, rent or buy pornographic material that does not contravene UK obscenity laws
Place a bet in a betting shop or casino
Get a tattoo
Join the Army and fight in conflict
Drive a car
Fly a plane

At sixteen all you get to do legally is shag, stop going to school, and so remain an unemployable moron, and ride a moped. And now there is demand these people get to vote!? At 16 boys are just packets of testosterone ready to challenge any status quo and girls often naive romantics; both sets are naturally drawn to the idealism of socialism (often pushed by zealot teachers) without the knowledge that it has failed in just about every country to embrace it. Hence, Socialists are always eager to lower the vote to people 99.9% of whom pay no taxes and have about as much experience of the real world as Paris Hilton’s chihuahua.

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Don’t talk to me. I’m breathing and I can’t do two things at once

Why...

Is the law about to stop me talking? (Hooray you all cry.) I see there is legislation being pushed to stop people using a hands-free phone whilst driving as it disturbs concentration. The idea that you are incapable of driving a car and having a conversation is absurd. And the idea that a phone call requires more concentration than talking to your passenger is equally daft. Let me tell you, I have to concentrate far more whilst conversing with my passenger, especially if it’s my wife, than chatting on the phone. For a start, I can’t pull a long face, flick her the bird, put her on mute, mutter obscenities under my breath, pick my nose, fart or even ignore her, like I can a voice in the ether. If communication whilst operating a vehicle is so dangerous, how come pilots who are constantly on the radio, don’t veer off to Iceland when on the way to the Costa Brava? Ships heading for Rotterdam don’t end up at Pismo Beach? The real problem of course is that a couple of generations have grown up whose idea of a conversation is texting. People just don’t have conversations, especially in a car. Usually there is a stereo blasting away so loud it makes your ears bleed. So, when a call does come in, an inordinate amount of concentration is needed to hold a conversation. Or worse they text. Result… car crash. Perhaps as part of the driving test, the examiner should have a heated debate on politics or religion. Or the person taking the test should take a call from the Boss.

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Attention Airlines. I am not an egg. Please don’t poach me

Why...

Do airlines insist on cabins being too hot when you board? I admire pilots. My son is one. The only thing more difficult to understand how to operate than a plane is possibly Donald Trump’s hairdryer… but not a simple thermostat. So please, all cabin crew, can we set cabins at a temperature that human life as we know it can survive when we board? Overheated cabins incense me (in every sense of the word) so much that I have started to take a digital thermometer with me when I travel. I enjoy waving this at the In-Flight Attendant showing a toasty 28c/86f degrees and once in my seat I loudly suggest: “Excuse me, after three minutes I should be perfectly poached. My wife sitting next to me wonders if you would bring her some buttered toast to accompany her meal.”

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Just show me ... don’t write it

March 22, 2019
Entertainment/Media/Arts Life Sex Technology
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Why...

Have written instructions survived? Whenever I buy anything, I am required to download instructions or manuals as if the digital video age never happened. You can download a video on everything from how to get to the next level of Minecraft, to poaching a peacock, or sticking false eyelashes on your goldfish; so why can’t all instruction manuals be videos? Yes, if I really want to get down to the minutiae of how my MP4 player can change the space time continuum or my mobile phone will connect with the dead, I can read up on the fine print. However, 90% of people (and 100% of normal ones) simply want to know the basics of how their latest toy works. So please, let’s just have a video showing me? It would certainly make buying the odd sex toy more interesting! Part of the reason I find digital currency so complex is not the theory of having a secure method of payment outside of the clutches of government or banks but the assumption the guy in the street understands how to actually go about the process. It’s Gobbledigook. Double gobbledigook if you tried Das Coin and the electronic WebWallet nonsense via NetLeaders. In an age when FaceTime, Zoom, Skype and Instagram are the communication medium of choice, why am I still asked to download a PDF on how to work a camera! I mean it’s a camera. Visual medium. Which bright spark in marketing thought: “Well, once we have sold this, let’s send a booklet to read that’s a couple of hundred pages long....” Show me how and I might even buy some of the bolt in extras like telephotos etc.

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Warning - The earth is flat and dinosaurs never existed

Why...

Am I fascinated by life’s Don Quixotes, hopelessly charging at windmills. My son, (a certified commercial pilot) was accosted recently by someone trying to persuade him the Earth is flat, Australia does not exist and vapour trails are really chemical sprays created by NASA to fry our minds..... If you are bored, whiling away ten minutes with the terminally loopy is quite fun. Never try and disagree. Arguing with the terminally deluded is pointless. Much more fun is to appear shocked and ask for more details. I am simply amazed at the pigheaded resilience these theorists can display with the information now available, which so easily punctures their balloon. A quick trail of the internet on conspiracy theories is only really disturbing when you realise these people can vote.

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Oscar night.....just has me riveted to my seat

Why...

Give a damn about the Oscars? The whole thing has got further up its arse than a proctologist’s middle finger. No one cares, because the last decade’s nominated movies are quasi arthouse that do not resonate with the audience. In an attempt to show making movies is really all abaht aaaart, dahling, the Academy has recently become all coy about nominating truly mass appeal movies. And who was responsible for this sudden fit of hubris, a desire to show a more cultured less crass side of the entertainment industry? A man imbued with a strong sense of the aspirations of the pinnacle of quality and not our baser instincts; Harvey Weinstein. Pay attention Academy of Motion Picture Arts and Sciences. You want to know why the Oscar shindig is as exciting as watching toast getting cold? Try looking at the movies you allow to get nominated....let alone win! The last ten years’ winners were , LaLa Land, Moonlight, Spotlight, Birdman, 12 Years a Slave, Argo, The Artist, The King’s Speech, The Hurt Locker, Slumdog Millionaire. I can barely remember what most of these are about? They may be worthy but are minnows compared with the 1970’s. The winners that decade were: Patton, The French Connection, The Godfather, The Sting, The Godfather Part II, One Flew Over The Cuckoo’s Nest, Rocky, Annie Hall, The Deer Hunter, Kramer vs Kramer. You’ve probably seen them all, and I can pretty clearly remember the stories even though released 40-50 years ago. US viewer audience for 1970 Oscars 55.2 million. US viewer audience last year, 26.5 million The only thing that sank faster was The Titanic (one of the last broad appeal movies to win back in 1997/8). I am pretty certain neither Rocky, Patton nor The Sting if made now, would even be nominated. So dear fellows and voters of the Academy, try and remember you are in the ENTERTAINMENT Industry. Get back to your roots and out of your ego. Start nominating movies that mean something to the general public and they might watch the awards!

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POA... the dumbest words on any advertisement!

January 19, 2019
Fasion Health & Beauty Finance/Law Life Technology
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Why...

Does any advertiser not understand that POA/ Price on Application actually stands for Pisses Off Anyone? When idly leafing through a six-month-old copy of Country Life at the dentist, I am amazed at the practice of sticking POA against the price of some of the houses advertised for sale. Same for when I pour over my monthly car porn magazines and fantasise about which classic car I might buy when my ship comes in (and after I have suitably bribed my wife with whatever retail therapy most floats her boat). What is the logic behind Price On Application? It’s an immediate turn off. Is it because there is such heat in the market that from day of publication to day of printing that prices will inexorably rise? I thought in terms of property, that was illegal and called gazumping. You always agree a price with the vendor that’s as fixed as an airline stewardesses smile. We live in a digital age. Prices can be checked and compared in a nano-second. Is the advertiser insinuating: “So, pay attention here. Most of you great unwashed, don’t get your hopes up. You cannot afford it and I simply cannot be bothered to talk to anyone before I know he or she has the readies to cough up the ludicrous sum I don’t dare print.” This is appalling customer service as it forces me to pick up a phone or log on to reveal this nugget of information. My time is being wasted by this ludicrous printed version of the dance of the seven veils. Don’t be coy Mr. Advertiser. Show me what you got! On occasions when bored (usually when waiting at airports) I give in to the devil in me and ring the offending advertiser: “Good morning. I wonder if you would tell me the price you are asking for the ‘Gilt-Palace-Nightmare’ in Dubai or ‘Please-stop-and-arrest-me-gold-plated-yuk-wagon’ advertised in the current edition of Shiny Things I can’t Really Afford?” When given the number, my unerring response is: “That cheap! No wonder you did not want to advertise the price as it shows how little you know about market value.” Sit back and then listen to a ten-minute barrage of self-important claptrap. It passes the time before boarding.

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New York hotel bank of Elevators win gold at synchronised swimming and why my etiquette rules can mean death

Why...

Can no one programme elevators so they don’t all go up and down in unison? It is nearly fifty years since man started leaving litter on the moon, yet we can still spend a lifetime watching a bank of elevators all going in the same direction and stopping at the same floors... at the same time. I’m no early riser so can cut leaving a hotel a little fine to get to an airport or meeting on time. I once spent 15 minutes in a New York hotel waiting for an elevator to make it up to the 35th floor. Rather like waiting for a bus, long periods of nothing happening, then suddenly all six elevators arrived at my floor at the same time. I suspect to this day if you dusted the elevator call button for fingerprints, mine would come up as I had pushed the damned fluorescent decent arrow so often in exasperation they must still be engraved on it.

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Why do so many movies keep me in the dark

October 19, 2018
Entertainment/Media/Arts Life Technology
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Why...

Are Directors so obsessed about shooting in the dark? In a fit of masochism and boredom I decided to watch the latest Star Wars extravaganza, Solo, on a plane. 85% was shot in the dark. I hardly could make out anything (except the actor playing Solo had all the verve and personality of a week-old halibut). Now all that darkness might look uber cool on a screen wide enough to land a Millennium Falcon on, but puh-lease.... more and more people watch movies on TV screen tablets or even smart phones. Dark Don’t Display. This is a classic case of creatives sticking heads up collective arses and ignoring reality. To see all those effects on tiny screens needs brightness. Here is a tip for the major studios. You want a few extra $ million in downloads? Shoot an entire picture during the day!

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Your call is important to us... because we are charging you suckers $1 a minute to wait till we bother to answer

Why...

Do I bother trying to track down customer service? Nearly all consumer product company websites are designed to keep the customer service email and call centre numbers harder to find than spotting ‘Where’s Waldo’. If I do find the telephone number in the haystack of info, rise early and call in the first seconds of opening time, I always seem so unlucky! As if by magic, that very day it appears everyone else is doing the same thing. “Due to a high volume of calls...” Translate that into: “Due to lack of us staffing this place with enough people to bat away the volley of complaints raining down on us like arrows in the battle of Agincourt, we will at least make money out of you suckers by increasing call capacity to 1,000 idiots at $1 per minute so we can make $60,000 an hour doing nothing but reading the papers.” To add insult to injury these customer call centres are usually located in Nowheresville Uzbekistan, Mongolia or possibly Scranton. Get through and you might as well talk to an aardvark as all you get is a script with no room for nuance or common sense. In addition I am sure most of the call centre staff would have more chance, blindfolded, pinning the tail on a donkey, than into a map to identify where I am calling from.

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It’s not what you do, it’s the way that you do it

August 3, 2018
Entertainment/Media/Arts Fasion Health & Beauty Technology
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Why...

Do I care what pattern kitten heels British PM Theresa May is wearing at the next Brexit battle or that the President of the EU is so plastered he cannot even stand up? Surely it’s the outcome of events that matters, not the window dressing surrounding them... but of course it isn’t. Hats off to the English football team (though how are they 4th in the world when losing three games out of six) but most people associate our World Cup campaign with Manager Gareth Southgate’s waistcoat rather than wasted opportunities in front of a goal. Trump is all about haircuts, wandering hands (admittedly the size of G.I. Joe’s) and being rude/blunt/economic with the facts. All quite amusing and the best news fodder any President has gifted to the press since Washington’s teeth got woodworm. But in the long lens of history all irrelevant, which is a shame. The trouble is far reaching results are not instantaneous and do not fit prime time schedules. We focus on things we can control and in our pre-set time frame. So we obsess on the minutiae of events rather than the bigger picture.

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I say, anyone for tennis?

July 7, 2018
Fasion Health & Beauty Food & Drink Politics Sport Technology
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Why...

Have some events managed to stay essentially the same in character whilst others have changed beyond recognition? Wimbledon is in many ways gloriously anachronistic and has stayed resolutely the same since 1877. My late father was on the board and I was immensely lucky to have watched every men’s final from 1969 until his death in 2004. Yes the event is old fashioned but still managed to sneak in the odd dollop of progress. It took till mid 60s before the All English Lawn Tennis & Croquet Club, to give it its official name, allowed professionals to compete. In the 1970s skirts went high and in the 1980s rackets just went high tech. In the 1990s Wimbledon led the way in taking a little pressure out of the balls to stop short serve and volley rallies that threatened to ruin the game... but those two weeks in July are still rooted in Agatha Christie’s England. Pimms Number 1 cup to drink, smoked salmon sandwiches, strawberries & cream to eat, and a fearsome dress code. All men must wear jackets and ties in the members enclosure, trousers are frowned on for women and no one raises their voice (John Mcenroe in his prime, the exception that proved the rule). Even now the men’s and ladies champion pair up at the opening dance at the Gala finale ball. You almost expect to see Maggie Smith as Dowager Lady Grantham complete with lorgnette inspecting the crowds to make sure no riff-raff have gained entry. And yet Wimbledon has survived, even thrived. Unique in the tennis world as a Grand Slam on grass yet with the atmosphere of a smart village fete. It’s not the quaint atmosphere that puzzles me, but why no one else has tried to copy it.

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Do you wanna be in my gang?

June 22, 2018
Finance/Law Food & Drink Life Politics Sex Technology
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Why...

Do we seek solace mixing with people who on joining a group or club revert to stereotype? “I never want to be a member of a club which would let me in,” may be a classic Groucho Marx line and a cliché but for good reason... It’s true. I have been very lucky to have been invited as a guest to several clubs and they break down into the following seven categories. Back to school There are a handful of Gentlemen’s Clubs in London holding a male only policy. They are all in Pall Mall and St. James and distinctly different to other Gentleman's clubs that can only operate by having scantily club members of the opposite sex. The London Gentleman’s club is really just public school (private school in the US) for boys who never grew up and miss nanny. The place runs on old fashioned rules. The Nanny organises the social desk and membership fees but that’s the only woman you will see. You better turn up in a tie, shoes polished, nails clipped and hair brushed. Yes, you can drink, but do not get rowdy. Most of the food is what I call nursery menu. A perfect lunch would be: Windsor soup, Steak and Kidney Pudding, Jam Roly-Poly, & Welsh Rarebit. Conversation through the meal with other members sharing your refectory style table equally as stodgy and bland. This is followed with a port and a snooze reading yesterday’s The Times. These throw-back establishments work on handed down privilege, who you know and how you behave. I am sorry to delude new members who have fought their way up in society through hard work and brains to join but… Old Biffo and Squiffy in the corner still look down on you as nouveau riche; the same way they dismissed Johnny Foreigner as a new boy at Rugby or that boy with the flash watch as parents “working in trade”. Back to Basics Health clubs. No frills. Over sophisticated gym equipment and eye wateringly expensive juices, drinks and rabbit food. Staff preachy and superior with bodies buffed to within an inch of their lives. Off peak these caverns of sweat are filled with the bored and rich. These poor souls have nothing else to do except cheat on their partner and sneak off for plastic surgery to show the results of all the dieting and training they pretend to follow. Peak time it’s just an overcrowded dating agency. Back to the Future The Lovie playroom. Media based haunts are filled with overloud voices recalling their last meeting with Brad and Angelina, how genuine the Spielberg’s are and what a shame about Amy’s drug abuse. Always in slightly seedy parts of town set up by failed media wannabes who see this as their entree into the glitterati. The propeller head equivalent of techy clubs are full of earnest members trying to convince you to invest in some crypto crapto currency or hint they might get you into an angel start up fund with guaranteed returns. “So, you’ve invested yourself,” is a sure-fire way of getting rid of them... and leaving you with absolutely no one to talk to. Pointless. Back to the Wall The exclusive nightclub. Exclusive because there are only so many people willing to spend £10k a year for membership to an overcrowded noisy hell-hole that charges prices that are an insult and a door policy that admits only good-looking people with an IQ quota the same as their shoe size. To make it worse should you be insecure enough to have to order a five litre bottle of vodka or a jeroboam of champagne for £1,000, the staff bring attention to your vulgarity by having sparklers light up the bottles as they bring them to you and alert everyone else in the place who is tonight’s soft touch. If you have to go to one for a night of drug fueled fun, you never want them to have your real name anyway. Always make sure someone else is the member. Back in the saddle The Horsey Club. Filled with overweight florid faced men and woman who bray when they laugh. If you ask for the bridal suite it’s a large room full of saddles, riding crops and Gucci buckles and the last place you’d want to spend your honeymoon. If you can separate the bullshit from real horse manure you might get a good tip on a horse. The Back Nine What can I say about a golf club except I don’t want to join one. Ever. It’s a chance for you to dress up like an extra from a Blaxploitation movie, though ethnic minority representation still remains low. Members may slice their tee shots to the left or right, but politics is invariably to the right. I speak with some experience here when in Myrtle Beach a club member made the mistake of asking me my opinion on abortion. “The obvious answer is it is not really a man’s decision; though if it were men who got pregnant, I suspect termination would be so easy it would come from an ATM machine. “No religion recognises a miscarriage or the trauma that causes. So, until they do they cannot go on about the rights of a foetus.” He pulled a gun on me and called security to eject the “limey liberal pinko”! Back Inside There is a great line in the TV series set in a woman’s prison Orange is the New Black with a character greeting a new inmate saying… “Welcome to the 1950s”. The speaker is not referring to the building or facilities. But to the clubs. The Narco Mexicans stick to one group, The Neo-Nazis another, right down to the Nepalese Horse thieves or Belgian child molesters. Everyone has a group. It’s basic. It’s for protection. So, on that note console yourself that Bernie Madoff is not the wife of some 6’6” ex Cripps member but closely closeted with some other fraudster both cheating at monopoly but a least paying protection money to keep their balls.

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The Village Idiot has gone global

May 25, 2018
Entertainment/Media/Arts Life Politics Technology
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Why...

Are complete idiots so keen to show the rest of us how stupid they are and why do we lap it up? Now this is not me having a rant and sour grapes. I happily peddle this blog for mainly selfish reasons… I simply enjoy doing it. But honestly who would have believed that a format that is literary in nature would see as the pinnacle of success the scribblings a bunch of self-obsessed wannabees. Originally the internet gave us a lovely set of rose tinted spectacles and we were encouraged to believe the ether would be filled with undiscovered literary titans. China no doubt would produce a dozen Mark Twains, (his little-known book Running for Governor was actually taught to every Chinese kid in school). Instead we got Fang Junping, who is an overnight blogging sensation there… as he explains cosmetics to a population that a few decades ago all wore the same uniform and the only bestseller was Mao’s little red book!

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Your grobulator is not in sync with your doo-hickey

April 14, 2018
Friends Kids/Family/Relations Technology Uncategorised Work
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Why...

Do I have to listen to drivel? Jargon is really a verbal hedge professionals hide behind... waiting to jump out and financially mug you. The truth is most businesses are not that complex, but to make everyone think someone has an IQ the size of a planet, people make up complex words (acronyms if in the Army) that no one understands. Never let a simple word stand in the way of a complex one, especially if as a lawyer you can charge £500 an hour to explain it.

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Funk me, Mark Zuckerburg wants to put me on the naughty step coz I talk like a sailor

Why...

Has swearing become the big no-no on Facebook... as opposed to: how to build a nuclear bomb on a rainy afternoon, five different ways to slice and dice a noisy next door neighbour or learn to shish-kebab the infidel in ten easy steps? I understand that algorithms are being introduced as electronic bleepers to cull blogger’s profanity. Therefore this might be my last blog for a while as I dial down my language. So what happens to my friends on Fanny Hands Lane in Scunthorpe or Butt Hill road in Penistone who are ornithologists and want to discuss the mating habits of a blue tit, a skiddy-cock, nicker-pecker, boobyalla or assapanick? Will the marine biologist from Cockermouth in Cumbria and their aholehole and bummalo fishes be banished from showing pictures or the insect lovers and their cute six legged cockchafers have their accounts closed? No more stories from holiday-makers out to catch a dik-dik (a small antilope) or out for a sail with a fuksheet (foresail). Clearly one man’s passion is Facebook’s poison.

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All posts in category: Technology

Duck it; shot happens

Why...

If I come to a meeting with clean fingernails and polished shoes, don’t kid yourself, it’s not for you. I have writer’s block

Why...

The joys of becoming an accidental medical tourist

Why...

That’s a wrap

Why...

I want to determine Government Policy... right after I’ve tidied my room and finished my homework

Why...

Don’t talk to me. I’m breathing and I can’t do two things at once

Why...

Attention Airlines. I am not an egg. Please don’t poach me

Why...

Just show me ... don’t write it

Why...

Warning - The earth is flat and dinosaurs never existed

Why...

Oscar night.....just has me riveted to my seat

Why...

POA... the dumbest words on any advertisement!

Why...

New York hotel bank of Elevators win gold at synchronised swimming and why my etiquette rules can mean death

Why...

Why do so many movies keep me in the dark

Why...

Your call is important to us... because we are charging you suckers $1 a minute to wait till we bother to answer

Why...

It’s not what you do, it’s the way that you do it

Why...

I say, anyone for tennis?

Why...

Do you wanna be in my gang?

Why...

The Village Idiot has gone global

Why...

Your grobulator is not in sync with your doo-hickey

Why...

Funk me, Mark Zuckerburg wants to put me on the naughty step coz I talk like a sailor

Why...