Head Rambles

Grandad May 31st, 2010

One thing you have to admit about Gormless – he’s great at trying to grab the headlines.

His latest effort is a ‘report’ on litter.

Apparently he has been rooting through litter and rubbish in the gutter.  He has decided that 45% of all litter is cigarette waste.  What?  Nearly half of all litter is cigarette butts and fag packets?  Get the fuck outa there.  That has to be a load of bollox.

Walk down any street and you will see the usual collection of used nappies, empty beer cans, newspapers and burger cartons.  You will also see cigarette butts, but will they amount to nearly half of all litter?  No fucking way.

The only way he could have come up with a figure like that is to somewhat restrict his area of research.  He picked a square meter of pavement outside a pub.  He probably did it after he was thrown out, blind drunk at closing time.

If he is so worried about cigarette buts on the pavement, then there is a very simple solution – scrap the fucking smoking laws.  They haven’t worked anyway, as smoking has increased since the laws were introduced.  Nor has there been any improvement in health anywhere.  In fact the only things the laws have achieved are to alienate a third of the population, close numerous pubs and force people to smoke on the street.

How about it, Gormless?

Let’s see you do something worthwhile for the first time in your miserable fucking life.

• Smoking
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Grandad May 30th, 2010

Last night I watched the Eurovision Song Contest in glorious High Definition and surround stereo.

It didn’t improve it.

The Eurovision is one of those car-crash events that just has to be watched.  It gets worse every year, and I must say I wasn’t disappointed this time around.

I think it is a testament to the programme that a mere twelve hours later, I can’t remember a single song.  I remember a lot of things about the programme, but I couldn’t sing a single line from any song.

I remember the Spanish entry, but that was only because a bloke from the audience hopped on stage and joined in.  I think he improved things but security didn’t and they bundled him off.  I remember the entry from Israel because the singer managed to sing the entire thing out of key so that it was even more painful to listen to.  I remember the German entry because the singer was a Fine Thing who I certainly wouldn’t kick out of bed for eating biscuits.  There was another entry that had a robot that spent half the time trying to cut its arm off with an electric grinder, but I couldn’t tell you which country they were from.

I watched the programme on BBC.  I will be honest – Graham Norton is one of those presenters that I avoid like a dose of Ebola, but last night I changed my opinion of him.  He wasn’t a patch on Terry Wogan, but he was in the right ball park.  I switched to RTE during the voting, but the sound of Marty Whelan having hysterics because Ireland wasn’t getting any votes was too much, so I went back to BBC, where Norton was positively revelling in the fact that the UK was bottom.  Norton had the right attitude – you just cannot and must not take the Eurovision seriously.

Every year, I get the strange impression that Ireland is the only country that sets out to win the damned thing.  The Irish entry is usually written to a formula that would have won back in the 70’s but hasn’t a hope now.  All the other countries are desperate to loose because the winner has to host the contest the following year and they don’t want to be lumbered with the bill.

So all I can tell you about the contest is that Germany won, and the UK came last.  I think Ireland was in the last two or three but I honestly couldn’t care.

I only watch it to see how bad it can get.

• Television
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Grandad May 29th, 2010

Considering how clever they are supposed to be, computers can be extremely dim.

I came back from the pub last night and thought I would check to see if I had any mail. Everything was fine and I was happily reading my spam, when suddenly there was a silent pooofff, and the screen went blue.

Fuck!

I had seen that blue thing before, and it is irritating.

Anyway, the computer went through the whole process of starting up again, and that was grand.

In the middle of all this, a little message popped up saying that the computer had “found new hardware” and could I please install a driver for my WLAN.  Now, I hadn’t installed ant new hardware, so I don’t know what the fuck it was on about, but I do know enough about the yokes to know that WLAN is something to do with my wireless.  Sure enough I had no Interweb connection.

It was at this stage that the computer lost the plot, just a little, because it offered to search the Interweb for drivers for my WLAN.

I told it to go ahead, as I like to see it suffer.  Sure enough, it complained that it couldn’t find the Interweb.  How fucking stupid can you get?

Now it had been working perfectly before it crashed, so I told it to just check for the old driver which had to be around somewhere.  It couldn’t find it.

Fuck!

I went to bed.

I tried a few things this morning, such as playing around with Restore, but that was fuck all use as well.  In the end, I just hooked it up to the Interweb using a lump of wire and told it to just fix itself or it was going into the bin.  It did.

I don’t know what happened.  I don’t know where the old driver went.  I don’t really care now that it’s working again.

I know I am going to get at least one smart arse on now telling me I should be using Linux.  You can fuck off.  I don’t want to use Linux.  I have a lot of pirated cracked expensive software that won’t run on Linux and I am not going to lose all that.

Now I’m just waiting for my screen to go blue again.

• computers
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Grandad May 28th, 2010

I have invented an automated, eco-friendly, perpetual motion lawnmower.

I’m rather pleased with myself.

To build one yourself, all you need is the following:

• four wire mesh panels
• a wire coat hanger
• three clothes pegs
• a water dish

To build this magnificent wonder of science, you first need to cut the coat hanger into short lengths and then bend them into rings to tie the four panels end to end.  You should now have what amounts to a small fence.

Bend the fence into a box, and close it off using clothes pegs [this means that it is easy to fold up again].

Place the box on the lawn.

Add the dish of water.

Now all you have to do is throw in any old guinea pigs you happen to have lying around.

The new lawnmower in action, with Sandy [as usual] wanting a game of tennis.

It is self powered.  The grass itself provides the fuel.  It is completely silent, so it won’t annoy the neighbours.  It fertilizes the lawn as it cuts.

The only thing you have to do now is move it every couple of days.

I reckon the whole lawn should be cut in about two years.

The lawnmower engine.
[Fizz and Minnie]

Does anyone know the address for The Dragon’s Den?

• Uncategorized
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Grandad May 27th, 2010

In the last half century, Ireland has changed almost beyond recognition.

Anyone who time travelled from 1960 to 2010 would hardly recognise the place. Just about every aspect of society has, for better or worse changed into something unrecognisable to our time traveller.

One thing definitely has not changed though.

The fucking farmers.

When it comes to moaning and whining, there is no one to match them.  They are the greatest load of fucking whingers you could possibly meet.  They are never fucking happy.

For the last few years we have had to put up with their crocodile tears as they wailed about the terrible weather.  It was too wet, they cried.  Crops are destroyed and it will be the worst harvest ever.  We were regaled with images of tractors bogged down in mud, rotting potatoes and wind-flattened crops.

I was watching Sharon the News last night, and they were on again.

It is too dry, they are crying.  We want rain.  About two inches.

Is there such a thing as a happy farmer?  It is always too dry or too wet; too cloudy or too sunny; too cold or too hot.

I remember some years ago, the agriculture industry was in some financial problems.  The farmers of course wailed about this until we were sick of them.  There was a budget, and just to shut the farmers up, they were given very generous tax breaks.  At last, I thought, we are about to please the farmers.  But no.  The fuckers still moaned that the tax breaks weren’t good enough.

There is no doubt about it.  When it comes to complaining, farmers really are the cream of the crop.

I just wish they would shut the fuck up.

Wankers.

• Rambles
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