Grandad August 1st, 2009
I don’t know if anyone has noticed but there are major changes afoot.
I started moving this to its new server and there are a lot of issues.
My mail isn’t working.
There are all sorts of weird and wonderful errors creeping into the site.
Be patient.
I’m doing my best
Grandad January 25th, 2009
I was going to try a podcast this morning.
For some strange reason, a couple of you suggested that I should.
Frankly, I can’t really see the point. Instead of reading me droning on, you hear me droning on.
I suppose there are advantages to podcasts, in that you can listen to what I have to say while you are driving, or making mad passionate love with your significant other [or even your insignificant other?]. But you can do that anyway, because all my posts are converted to audio anyway by those people in Odiogo.
On the other hand, I would have to moderate my language somewhat, as you could be listening in the office, or with the children playing in the background. Visual stuff is grand, because you can always pretend it is something else, but when the sound blares out of the speakers, it tends to travel and everyone around gets the benefit of my fucking and blinding.
I did get as far as putting the microphone on and switching on the recorder. I said my cheerful “Hello all. This is a podcast” and then I went blank. What the hell was I supposed to say? Feck all has happened between yesterday and today, apart from raiding a couple of tobacconists across the County Border and having a quiet game of poker with Sandy last night. [Never play poker with a dog – you can’t tell what they are thinking.]
So there I was, staring at the recording program as it quietly recorded nothing, except me breathing. I suppose I could do a half hour of heavy breathing, but my probation officer has warned me about that, so I can’t.
Anyway, when I do a solo spot into a microphone, I tend to drone. I sound like a footballer being interviewed, or at worst, I can nearly sound as bad as Harney [the Queen of the Depressed Drones].
The microphone has been packed away again.
If you want me to podcast, you are going to have to do some of the work. You are going to have to suggest what I do, or what I talk about.
If I could find some way of recording Skype, I could have a phone in. That would be interesting? But you’d all have to be around at a prearranged time, and I know from experience trying to do a podcast with America and Australia that that can be a pain in the hole, as everyone is in a different time zone.
So it’s back to the old keyboard…….
Grandad January 3rd, 2008
I am beginning to realise that fame has its price.
I am late in writing today, because I have just been interviewed by the lovely Deirdre Walsh on Radio Kerry.
No. It was nothing to do with blogging.
They wanted to talk to me because I am an endangered species. Along with various whales and tigers.
Yes. Pipe smokers are almost extinct. I am going to apply to Brussels for a preservation order, but in the meantime, Radio Kerry wanted an archive of an interview with a real live pipe-smoker, before we are overpowered by the cigarette smoking hoards.
Also, my other little sideline has been exposed on the Interweb.
That b*st*rd Dick has blown my cover. He never got over the Ron thing and has been itching to get his own back ever since. He has discovered the real reason behind Head Rambles and has posted about it.
What’s worse, he was obviously at the New Years Eve party [though I don't remember seeing him there], and the f*ck*r had his camera with him.
Now, we celebrities have our rights. We have a right to private lives. We resent media intrusion. Just ask Paris Hilton or Jane Goody. Look what happened to Diana. So when Dick starts publishing private photos of me on the Interweb, I get annoyed…..
I’m off to see my solicitor, and buy some pipe tobacco.
Grandad November 11th, 2007
Our K8 has come up with a new meme.
And, bless her little cotton socks, she has passed it on to me.
She wants me to write a post that uses every tag. It’s all very well for her – she only has a few. I have loads. The cow!
Now I may be getting old but I find these difficult. I had a hard days blogging yesterday, as I had a good rant on a podcast to America. That was after I did my post on Cully and Sully.
So today I went for a ramble around the garden, trying to think of a topic. No go. There was no inspiration around the house either, and I’m damned if I’m going around the village or around the town for something so trivial.
Back in the 70’s life was a lot simpler. There were no computers or Internet, or even television so there were no memes. I had no irritating daughter in the family either. We found our pleasures in simple things. I remember learning to drive so we could go on holidays touring in the West, with no worries about flying and Global Warming. We had such simple sports as children in times past, like watching spiders spin their webs, and the designs they’d make. We’d go for rambles through the woods and have picnics of tea and spam sandwiches. We were a lot healthier for it.
Nowadays, work is the new religion and people have lost the use of their imagination. People only get worked up over celebrities and smoking out corrupt politicians. They panic over property prices and have lost sight of the soul of life.
No.
I can’t think of anything.
I elect not to do it.
I’m going to file this under Uncatagorised.
Maybe Sixty should have a bash at this?
Or how about Kirk at Just Thinkin’? I haven’t tagged him before.
And it’s a while since I annoyed Grannymar!!
F*cking memes….
Grandad September 30th, 2007
I don’t know how I forgot to mention this.
It’s one of those little lapses that happens with old age, I suppose.
There is a new web site up and running. It’s only a new-born so there will doubtless be sleepless nights, and loads of nappies to be changed.
It’s called Kilos of Craic.
So what is it all about?
Just think of four or five people sitting in a pub, having a bit of a laugh. The conversation flows freely and the topic changes from minute to minute. Now imagine that those people are in fact sitting up to 12,000 miles apart! That is Kilos of Craic.
A group of us – Jefferson Davis, BrianF, Baino, Doctor Don and myself get together once in a while and have a group chat in the Interweb. Sometimes we have contributions from others, like Daz. It can be weird, zany, crude and even funny. It can be very disjointed, because, like any good craic, it is unscripted.
As for who is who? This episode starts with me bitching about my software. I’m the one with the non-American, non-Australian accent. Baino is the soft Australian female voice. Jefferson is the one with the Southern Drawl, and BrianF is the other one – the one who never shuts up. Doctor Don makes the odd appearance [so if you hear a strange voice cut in, it's probably him. He doesn't say much].
So head over to Kilos of Craic and have a listen. Let’s know what you think.
Incidentally – Craic means ‘fun’, ‘laughter’, ‘good conversation’.
Not to be confused with Cráic which means ‘arsehole’
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