Grandad October 22nd, 2006
Why do advertisers assume we all love America? There seems to be a theory that if they use American accents or American associations that we will all be so impressed that we will rush out to buy their products.
The cosmetic ads are the worst. But quite a few others are getting on the bandwaggon too. There is an ad for fruit juice that shows people in New York doing New Yorky things and slurping the juice. What is the message? If I drink this juice I will become a New Yorker? Wow!
Another trick is to use “American style”. So we have American style this and American style that. What is American style? Is the pizza going to suddenly jump up and shout “hey there buddy.. ya wanna beer?” and then run out the door to watch a baseball game?
I don’t hate America. I’ve never been there but it looks like a beautiful country. In fact it probably has some of the finest scenery in the world. It’s the people that live there that get on my nerves. Their attitude [and that of our advertisers] is that if it’s American, it has to be good. Why?
Thank God for the mute button on the remote control.
Grandad October 21st, 2006
I get lots of e-mails. Hundreds of them. Often I think they are a little confused because they keep wanting my banking details for banks I’ve never heard of, but we all make mistakes.
I also get mails for very nice people who want to meet me. They usually start off with something like “Hi, I am a very good looking girl and would like to meet you”. That’s nice. But a lot of them come from people called George or John. I think someone should tell them what a good looking girl looks like. I wouldn’t say girls with beards and hairy chests would be very good looking.
I got one today. The title [as the risk of offending some people] is “MyPENIS HAS GROWN FROM 3 INCHES TO JUST OVER 6″, AND IS STILL GROWING!”. Fair play says I. But it is sent by “Fumiko Lady”. Now there is a girl with a problem. And apparently it’s growing! I don’t know why she is telling me about it though.
The really good news though is that I keep winning lotteries. I estimate that at the time of writing, I am worth somewhere in the region of €300 million. One of these days when I’m running a little short of cash, I’ll write back to these nice people and ask for my money.
If I’d known there were such lovely people around, I never would have bothered with a pension plan.
Grandad October 19th, 2006
It is time my Sandy had a mention on the internet.
She is one of the most intelligent and faithful dogs I have ever come across, and I’ve known a few.
She’s learning to drive at the moment. She sits in the passenger seat and watches everything I do. She is also very critical of other drivers and gives me a knowing look if she sees a bad example of driving. If I leave her in the car for a while, she sits in the driver’s seat and practices the controls.
The only thing in life she hates is loud noises. She hates thunder or fireworks. They reduce her to a quivering jelly and she has to go and hide under the sideboard. I hate this time of year [Halloween is around the corner...] as there is the occasional firework most evenings. It only takes one, and she’s gone. It could be worse though. We could be living in the suburbs where the fireworks in the leadup to Halloween would make Iraq seem like the Garden of Eden.
In the meantime, there is nothing she likes better than to curl up in bed with a good book.
Grandad October 17th, 2006
For years now, I have become used to the phenomenon of occasionally coming across “temporary traffic lights” which have been placed each side of some bit of road works. You know the ones. They stay red for about five minutes so that you can read a book or admire the workmen having their teabreak, and then they change green [the lights, not the workmen] just about long enough to get in gear before changing red again.
I used to come across these a few times a year.
Now, suddenly they are everywhere. I did one shortish journey recently and had to go through eight sets. It was handy as I was able to catch up on my reading. Got through quite a few chapters on that one journey. I have found one road out of my area that is still light free, but I suppose it is only a matter of time…
I wrote to the local County Council to thank them for the lights, saying that it was nice to be able to relax for a five minute break every couple of miles. They obviously appreciated this, as they promptly gave me my own set. No kidding! Two days later, they errected temporary traffic lights each side of the entrance to my house and started digging holes. Now that is service.
The only problem is that I can’t leave my house now, so my reading is falling behind.
Grandad October 16th, 2006
A nice little item on the news today. Apparently Sellafield has been leaking again.
British Nuclear Fuels has been fined £500,000 for breaches of safety. Wow! That’ll worry them. A whole five minutes profits gone down the drain.
But the thing is, they were fined because they failed to stop a leak. And this leak had been there for months. How come they never noticed? Where are their safety precautions when you need them? The Boss was asked about this and he said that it was only a “tiny leak” and had only become serious a few weeks before they noticed. But it still took them a few weeks to notice a serious leak! This is from the company that is constantly telling us that it is one of the safest nuclear facilities in the world. 83,000 litres of radioactive fluid swilling around and noone noticed? Bloody hell!!
A challenge to the British Government - if BNF are so damn safe, why not move them to the heart of London?
Grandad October 13th, 2006
I got a postcard today. That was nice. It means someone cares.
However, this postcard was from the ESB. They would like to inform me that they are cutting off my power in a couple of weeks time. No. I have paid my bills. They are cutting me off for a day. From 9am to 6pm. Something to do with connecting people.
This fills me with dread. They have done this before and it is not nice. It’s amazing how much I rely on electricity for the simple pleasures in life like heat or a simple cup of tea. It’s amazing how long a day is when you can’t have a cuppa.
My theory is that time is relative, but is determined by how much power you have. Actually, I would like to have a word with Einstein about this but he isn’t around. A normal 9 to 6 day here lasts approximately 9 hours [give or take]. However, without power I swear it lasts over 24 hours. Maybe industry should take note of this - cut off power to the factory floor and get an extra 15 hours work from the labourforce. Of course this would stop the machinery as well but I’m sure they could find a way around that. Treadmills?
In the meantime, what am I going to do on THE day? In the old days, I would have gone to the nearest pub and gotten ratarsed. But I’m too old for that now. And I would have to spend the entire time outside because the Health Police have decided that I’m a hazard to the workforce [doubtless I'll have a comment or two in the future about smoking laws!].
If the weather is nice, I might go for a walk. But that won’t take too long. I might do a bit of gardening if the weather is nice [but it never is on the day of a powercut]. I might visit my daughter, but she has her own life to lead.
Anyone got a spare generator?????
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