Easily Spotted
Posted: Tue 28 June, 2005 Filed under: Geeky, Thoughts 2 Comments »Grrr. I’ve just spent a number of hours trying to figure out why one part of a webpage was going wrong, and repeating an image multiple times when there was nothing in the code to indicate why it would think this was a good idea.
As it turns out, it was a simple fix – eventually. I’ve no idea why it was doing it, but it was.
The problem was a single extra < character. That was it. Why this made the navigation bar repeat three times I don’t know. But it now works. And that’s – sometimes – what makes up most of a day’s work. Finding a < . Sad, isn’t it?
Froggin’ Expensive
Posted: Tue 28 June, 2005 Filed under: Customer Services, Weirdness 3 Comments »Well, colour me shocked. There’s a story on the BBC News today about how signing up to the Crazy Bastard Frog (CBF) ringtone costs people a lot more than they expect. Basically, if you signed up to get the CBF, you’ve then signed up to Jamster‘s shite from now ’til the end of eternity. (and yes, pedants, I know that technically eternity never ends, but bollocks, I’m using the expression anyway) Or, in fairness, ’til you get enough IQ points to text “STOP” to whatever number it is. (if memory serves, I think that’s the code – see, I do pay attention to the adverts)
The whining twat on the BBC says this:
I did not spot the impossibly small print whizzing by on the bottom of the screen while a larger-than-a life Crazy Frog gyrated to his latest tones.If I had, it would apparently have informed me that by ordering the ringtone I had also signed up to a subscription.
The watchdog’s 2004 code says pricing information must be spoken on television adverts if maximum call costs can exceed £2. The code also states that “textual pricing information must be easily legible, prominent… presented in a way that does not require close examination”.
©BBC News 2005
She then goes on to say “I couldn’t find anything about this on the Jamster site”. Well, madam, then you’re obviously as thick as pigshite. If you click on the “Terms and Conditions” link on any Jamster Page (yes, I’ve just looked at the site for the first time ever you get to see this :
To unsubscribe by text message, text “STOP” to 88888, call 0870 121 3186 or go to “My Clubs” under “My Jamster!” on www.jamster.co.uk or send an email to info@jamster.co.uk. The termination shall become effective immediately upon receipt of termination request.
© Jamster 2005
Rocket science this isn’t.
So far as I can see, the entire Jamster ringtones thing is just like an idiot tax anyway – if you don’t read the text at the bottom (and I have – it’s not difficult so long as you don’t need to read aloud, or follow the words with your fucking finger) and just subscribe then a) you’re an idiot, and b) you’re fair game to get ripped off. This whine masquerading as news just goes to illustrate the point.
Blank
Posted: Tue 28 June, 2005 Filed under: Thoughts Leave a comment »Ever have one of those days where you don’t know what to write?
Yeah, that’s me today. Stumped, utterly stumped. I’m sure I’ll think of something in a bit.
Norfolk Weekend
Posted: Mon 27 June, 2005 Filed under: D4D™, General, Thoughts 1 Comment »Well, after the amazing joys of the train journey, the weekend carried on in a similar vein.
The main event/reason for going was for a joint housewarming and “decade in business” party for Herself’s Sister and Husband. Yup, the Outlaws. And bloody good it was, too. On Friday there’d been a bit of pessimism swanning around, as it was raining, and obviously if you’re having a party in a garden, you don’t want it looking like Glastonbury. But as it turned out, while most of the day was cloudy, and there was a bit of rain in the morning, there was nothing from about 1pm, and it was a great day. Besides, if it had been as hot as the rest of the week we’d have had people basting in their own skins, and that’s no fun either.
So, Saturday dawned bright and sunny cloudy and grey, and while setting up tables and so on, the first revelation occurred…
You’re the one who writes d4d™, aren’t you?
(cue “Rabbit in the Headlights” expression) Um, yeah…
Oh, it’s great. We all read it every day. It’s dead popular in the Norfolk NHS
So there we go – second “sit down in shock” moment of the day – people actually read this guff? Yeesh. And now I’ve met some of them. Eeek. I have an audience.
Still reeling a bit from that one, another discussion comes about.
Outlaw : You did know you’re doing all the barbecue stuff, didn’t you?
Um, no, that information must’ve somehow passed me by…
Have you ever done one before?
Nope. So that’ll be a learning experience then…
Yes, I can’t deny, I was more than a little bit stressed (for which read “bloody orbital”) as H-Hour came around. One barbecue was fine, all gas-fired, electronic ignition, the lot – that’s great. The other one (for vegetarian food only) was – shall we say – a bit more tempramental, in that the bloody thing developed a dislike for my eyebrows, and tried removing them every time I lit the sodding thing all weekend. And the organisation of my bit was initially a bit chaotic. But it all worked out OK. I managed to cook sausages that were (just about) discernible from the charcoal briquettes around them. Not brilliant, but not bad for a first go. Hell, people ate them, and didn’t collapse vomiting afterwards. For me, that was a success.
The afternoon part of the party – the “business” section – went really smoothly, and was damn good. Lots of food, lots of punch (drink, not fighting) and a good time was had by all. Herself was knockout, doing all the food, and a shedload of washing-up (glasses and the like), and all ran well.
The evening was always going to be more alcoholic. God knows how much everyone got through, but I think it comes under “not enough” as there was still drink left at the end of the night. But it was good – and we weren’t even disturbed too much by the hippies up the road having their “Summer Solstice” party a mere four days late. Still, who the hell’s ever heard of a punctual hippie? Just because they celebrate calendar festivals doesn’t mean they can tell the time.
Throughout the day there were performances by a local band, who were bloody good. Apparently it was their first “public” performance, not that you’d have been able to tell. Perhaps the only giveaway was that the repertoire was still pretty small. (and yes, Jellifish, I know you’ll be reading this – even if you weren’t, I’d still say the same!) It all went really smoothly, and everyone had a good time before we eventually collapsed at about 1am.
Sunday involved clearing up, which actually wasn’t as bad as it could’ve been. I was awake by 8am, and got a load done before anyone else was awake, which made life easier. Sometimes clearing up is best done by two or three motivated people rather than ten or twelve “Oh God, do we have to?” merchants.
Breakfast was done on the barbecue again, and this time hardly anything got burnt. But it was chuffin’ good – even the fried eggs seemed to cook properly. Hell, I have a hard time doing that on a proper cooker for the most part, let alone on a sodding barbecue! So all went well, and after a large sit-down with the remaining people, we drove off into the sunset* having had a bloody fantastic weekend.
* artistic licence. Live with it.
Quick Quiz
Posted: Mon 27 June, 2005 Filed under: Travel 4 Comments »OK, now here’s a thing. At Waterloo Station (I’m talking about the Underground Station, as opposed to mainline trains, I should point out) I discovered there was an Underground line I’d never used before.
It’s nothing special – in fact, it just runs between Waterloo and Bank stations, and is called the “Waterloo and City line”. It looks like this (courtesy of a badly hacked map from Transport for London)
Now, what I want to know is this : why is it there? And what is its history?
I suspect I know who will know, but any answers will be appreciated.
Train Miracle
Posted: Mon 27 June, 2005 Filed under: Travel 1 Comment »Sit down. There’s a shock on the way. Well, today all told there may be a couple of shocks on the way – but for now, this one’s a biggie.
After all my many rants about train travel, of which there are too many to link to, (although this link does a fairly good job, I have to say) Friday’s journey from Wokingham to Norwich went – I warned you, sit down – bloody well. No delays, no hassles. Busy trains, yes, but I got a seat, and there were no irritations. Yeah, you heard that right – no irritations. I had problems believing it myself.
If pushed, I would point out that the London Underground is still a nightmare, and on Friday it was hotter than a sweaty desert-dweller’s jockstrap (and, on one memorable section, smelled like it) but that’s summer in London for you. And if I ever say “I’m going to be working in London for the summer”, slap me.
But yes, the journey itself was fine. Oh, and a quick thanks to the very nice man on the London-Norwich train, who I discussed laptops with, and who then donated his last can of beer to me when he got off the train. You, sir, are a bloody star.
See – told you you should be sitting down!