No, really…
Boom
Here we are in the autumn of the year. Wait, that doesn’t quite work. It is actually Autumn in a totally non-metaphoric way and as always a time for multiple grumbles of a miserable old man type.
As October dribbles away to nothing, Halloween and Bonfire Night are jostling for the soul of the honest shopper in that indecent way they enjoy. Strangely enough Christmas seems to have taken a back seat this year. I am fairly sure that by this time last year, Santas were abound and decorations (albeit unlit) spanned the thoroughfares of my fine city. Perhaps I am wrong. Certainly when I was a poor little Dukie returning to school after half-term in the early 80s, Christmas was a far-off and concept that didn’t seem to bother us until late November.
Still, we are now well into the “arseholes with legal explosives” season. Sam, the largest and wussiest of my two is already camped in his “safe place” behind my computer desk. He prefers this despite the fact that it means he must curl up on the intestinal pile of cables that I stuff out of sight and out of mind in the hidden dusty recesses. He emerged yesterday at about midnight sporting a cobweb veil of Miss Haversham proportions (I threw that one in for you Pip) and headed downstairs for a snack. Unfortunately, at least one drunken chav had one last rocket in his arsenal and sent it skyward just as Sam hit the third step from the bottom. On the plus side, the slipstream caused by his speedy return did at least leave the cobweb half-way up the stairs. You can always tell when there are fireworks about. You pick up Sam and he shows no intention of ever being put down again. Usually he humours you with a few minutes of contact, possibly licking the nose of sniffing the face then he starts to struggle and you know the hug is not to be. At this time of year, he tucks his feet up before you put your arm under him for support. The chin flattens on your shoulder and purrs loud enough to drown out Meatloaf. Of course, every time a firework explodes, his mighty claws dig into you like a sabretooth but you have to live with that. Rest easy Sam, only a few weeks to go.
Blog
MySpace, Facebook, Beebo. They all have a lot to answer for. Once upon a time, only nerdy types such as myself had blogs or anything at all online. Now ‘with a few clicks’ (don’t you just love that pathetic phrase) anybody can share their wisdom and lives with anyone who cares to read it (usually about 9 people). On the face of it, this has to be a good thing and I am sure that it’s only jealously and righteous indignation (you mean you can do it without wrting HTML code by hand?!?!?) that makes me blow hot and cold on such things. I think I can express it best in the following way.
Neil’s Guide To Facebook & MySpace
Pros
- Everyone gets online and finally has something to do online
Cons
- Everyone gets online and finally has something to do online
At last count, something like 7.75 trillion trillion people are now on either Facebook or MySpace. Each of them has uploaded a total of 29 quadrillion billion photos. For 99.999999% of those people, their only regular visitor is the Google searchbot. I am ashamed to say that I know what a searchbot is and you should count yourself lucky if you don’t. Hi Scott.
Funnily enough, the thing I like most about MySpace is the the surveys. I really must do some more.
I just remembered where I am going with all this.
Blogs..
There is a line. A great big red one. You can toe it or you can step over it. Someone of whom I am aware has seemingly taken a long run up and lept over it. It’s a few weeks later and this person has yet to land.
Now MySpace has let anyone write one. You simple “log on” (another f**king phrase I hate) and type away. Unfortunately, if you happen to mention anywhere on the page where you live or where you work, the problems start. If you compound this by mentioning people by name and the snowball grows. Before you know it, 100s of people find out about it and a personal rant is big news. This rant in case you are wondering is fine but for a few choice phrases. Everyone should rant. I do and it feels good. Just watch out, you never know who is in spitting distance.
Heavy Loads
I broke some news today to some people that was not terribly good but at least I did it and can move on a little. They are friends and I should have know they would take it the way they did.
Must dash now. I have more stuff in my head, so I may come back later.
The casserole is almost done and it’s almost time for the dancing. Saturday night is indeed alright.
No, really…
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