Speaking of being cold

I wonder who was looking for “my micropenis pics” in google, and came up with this site. They must’ve been sorely disappointed – although having waited for a bus for 45 minutes this morning, perhaps I qualify after all. *Grin*

Crap country

It’s amazing – how does this country (I should just say England, according to Gordon, but I think I’ll leave it as “this country” just to annoy the haggis-munching pedant. *grin*) maange to come to a stop after just one spell of slightly shit weather? Yes, it’s snowed – and so everything goes to shit. We’ve had a week’s warning that it was going to happen, but still it turns out that people can’t drive in snow (even when the roads are at least half-clear) so it’s taken me nearly 2 hours to get to work. The entire of the main road on which I live was nose-to-tail with cunts who won’t overtake because they might have to drive on – shock! horror! – snow. Utterly pathetic.

I don’t even understand what it is that makes us so crap at dealing with “extremes” of weather. (By which I mean, “extreme” according to the UK – people elsewhere would regard it as mild) Recently I’ve been reading Daily Dose of Imagery, based in Toronto, Canada. Currently they’re in the midst of a -30°C winter, yet everything runs as normal. I could perhaps understand it if the temperature here was around -10 or so, but it’s hardly gone sub-zero. We’re just pathetic.

UPDATED : Further to comments and also to reference made on Parm it may be that Manchester City Council are a bigger bunch of slack-arsed twats than I’d previously allowed for. However, that doesn’t explain the stories about Manchester Airport having to close its runways because of snow, nor that transport links in Lodnon were equally keffed. And yes, Gordon, I know the Scots are far hardier than the wee Jessie southerners, but bits of Scotland had the same problems too. So nyah! *Grin*

I’ll also point out that I’m not actually complaining about the weather – I don’t mind it at all – but more about the reactions of other people to it, and the general levels of incompetence in dealing with anything as extreme as little lumps of white falling from the sky.

Bills and Accounts

Sometimes I could really begin to believe that UK companies have a dark plot to stop people from moving house. They seem to love making the entire process so complicated and stressful that it’s almost easier to say “Oh, fuck it, I’ll stay where I am”.

As regular readers of d4d™ (there are still some of you out there, aren’t there? *grin*) I moved to the current house about five months ago (and oh shit, I’d best nag the letting agency to find out about renewing the tenancy, hadn’t I?) at which point I had to move the accounts for the gas and electric supply. Like an utter, utter primate, I stuck with the same suppliers – British Motherfucking Gas. I really should know better by now. Unsurprisingly, they’ve made a complete monkey’s cock of the entire thing.

Today I’ve received not one but two bills – one for my old address, one for the current one. For the same bloody time-period! I ring them up, and they then told me “Oh, we haven’t listed your change of address” – which doesn’t quite explain the correct(ish) bill for the new house. “Oh, ah, um, I don’t know what’s happened there then”

I don’t think that the answer “I do. It’s that British Gas couldn’t find their backsides with both hands and a flashlight” went down too well…

Carlucci

I’ve just finished a book called Carlucci by Richard Paul Russo. It’s actually three books in one, all based around a future San Francisco, and the eponymous detective. The book was very much a speculative purchase, a case of “that looks like it might be interesting” – and it was. A very dark view of the future, with huge levels of corruption and corporate machinations, but ultimately pretty believable.

Over the years, one thing I’ve found I like in certain – primarily sci-fi – books is that they don’t feel the need to explain everything. I find that books with timescales, with fixed dates for when events occur, annoy me – and once those dates are passed, they just feel dated. So many authors also feel the need to explain all their definitions – for me that just detracts from a story. I’d rather the slang or whatever was used, and let my brain come up with images. Much more fun.

Anyway, the Carlucci books have managed to be damn good stories, and not fallen into either of the above traps, so they come well recommended.

Life vs. Art

Is it just me, or is the entire farce about university top-up fees, and the votes surrounding it very reminiscent of a whole range of episodes in the West Wing where votes are suddenly lost at the last minute etc.?

Of course, the concept of John Prescott taking the place of Josh Lyman makes me smile.

“Fookin’ ‘ell, Tony, we’ve lost ten votes!”

Acid Brass

The perfect music for an unhinged and disjointed day is the “Acid Brass” album by the Williams Fairey Brass Band. I’ve a nagging feeling that I have probably waffled on about this album before, but it still makes me smile.

The basic premise was to get a standard brass band to play classic ‘Acid House’ tunes. Tracks like 808 State’s “Cubik”, and the KLF’s “What time is love?” – all performed by brass. Utterly surreal, and just strangely happy.

Day Confusion

Today is going to be non-fun. My brain’s utterly up it, and thinks that it’s currently Sunday. Nothing makes sense – it can’t understand why I’m working on a Sunday, or anything that’s going on. This is not a good indicator for the rest of the day. So I’m taking it fairly easy – all complex tasks will be postponed ’til tomorrow at least – and just getting through it for now.

I hope everyone else is having rather more organised, or at least logical days. *Grin*