Buzzwords

Oh dear. Someone’s just hit d4d™ following a search for productisation LAWS – which was, of course, the bullshitfest that I attended two weeks ago. D4D™ comes up 12th on the google search list. Remembering the other bullshit buzzword from the event, I checked out Polyhierachical LAWS. No.1, baby…

Now I know why I write under a pseudonym. *grin*

Gubbins

A small piece of alteration today to this page. The “Link and Think” image has finally fallen off from the right hand side (only took me five months), and the title of the page has changed, thanks to a suggestion by Lori. How long it’ll stay for, I just don’t know.

Other than that, I’m not sure what the quality of updates will be today. I’m feeling generally wiped-out – not coldy, not flu-ey (is that even a word?), more like just the crumbling edge of exhaustion. Easter weekend is looking like it may descend into a pit of sleep, which is perhaps not good as I’m also supposed to have a TMA from the Open Uni to complete. One that I haven’t even looked at yet. Ooops. There’s also a nagging problem from Monday’s networking gubbins, where the office can’t get email from the POP3 server on their hosted website, yet I can get it from work, from home, and even over the mobile. (Geek? Me?) And yes, they can get email from another POP3 server, so it’s not that the ****ing ****ing bastarding firewall‘s blocking access to Port 25 or anything like that. Despair and lack of ideas are beginning to appear on the horizons of my mind’s eye. Or something equally hippyish.

Sleepy

Have you ever been tired enough that when standing still, you actually wobble slightly, like a trapeze artist trying to maintain their balance on the wire?

Welcome to my world today.

CBA

I’m supposed to be at another presentation tomorrow about E-Government and Broadband. I just can’t face it, it’ll be more of the same kind of bollocks as a couple of weeks ago. Knackers to that.

No, really?

Children shoved in front of the TV consistently may have a higher risk of Attention Deficit Disorder.
File under Sherlock, No Shit.

The track to hell

Coming back from Middlesbrough last night was an utter ‘mare. The train finally left Middlesbrough twenty minutes late, and in one of the vilest states I’ve seen in a while. Litter was everywhere, and a good third of the seats were knackered (for which read “utterly fucked and impossible to sit on”) – not a good sign.

It was also actually the second train. The first one had been pulled out of service for some reason known only to Transpennine. (Don’t be fooled by the nice fancy train on that page – the ones on the Manchester to Middlesbrough route seem to be from The Rolling Stock That Time Forgot™) And the staff who were at the station didn’t appear to be in on the information dissemination either – so far, not going very far towards their stated aim of

TransPennine Express – Our Vision

Our vision for the new TransPennine Express franchise is to re-vitalise and redevelop TransPennine Express, making it the preferred mode of transport for our customers in the North of England

<mutter>Fat fucking chance</mutter>

Eventually, we got to Leeds station. The train stopped. Then got turned off completely. A muttered announcement came over the tannoy. “mummwbwnd mewmewu mureuirbq murewuuipw” This apparently translates as “Hello Passengers. Your train is officially classified as “well fucked”, and has now been pulled from service. Please get your stuff together, get off the train, and go to the train waiting in front of this one. You have twenty seconds to comply” Not a word from the uniformed (and uninformed) goblin stood at the doors of the carriage in Transpennine garb. He just stood there watching people go “what the fuck?” Useless wazzock.

Finally, everyone is off the train, and standing on the platform. There’s no train in front of the one we’ve just got off. A twunt in a uniform appears (it would be uncharitable to mention the expression “ten pounds of shit in a five pound bag” at this point) and is asked “Pray tell, kind sir, where is the train that we were helpfully informed was waiting for us?” (or words to that effect, that may, or may not, have included “wherezthefockintrainyacunt?” from the pissheads in front of me)

“Oh, it’ll be back in a minute. The driver got told to leave the platform, because there was a train coming in behind him.” (yes, that was the train we’d all just got off) “He’ll reverse in a minute, and you can all get on”

At long last I got into Manchester, half an hour late, a three hour journey that involved three and a half hours, and three trains.

Now, where’s the number for BSM?

Networking Redux

Typical. I come in today, and within 90 minutes the entire thing that was being an utter motherfucking shitbag on Wednesday is now fixed. I could cry. I could, but I won’t. Because if I cry, I’ll lose the plot even more, and then kick the crap out of the server, and then I’d be back to Square One.

Le Sigh