In JB HiFi today, I overheard a staff member comparing and contrasting Playstation 2 to Xbox:
Friendly staff: “They both have a similar range of games, but you can save games on the Xbox to its inbuilt hard drive.”
Potential Buyer: “Oh, ok. How big is the hard drive?”
Friendly staff (picking up the Xbox packaging): “It fits right in this box”
At work I often have field techs calling me to run tests on phone lines for them. Their main test tool is nicknamed a “Buttinsky”, which is shortened in conversations to “Butt”. It can lead to interesting phrases. Here are the ones I have noted down:
“I’ve got my butt on the line now…”
“My butt is f#%ked. Can you check it?”
“…My butt’s not showing anything”
“I’ll just grab my spare butt…”
“I should be able to hear tone through my butt and I’m not”
“My butt is looping now”
“Here comes someone now - I’ll use his butt”
“I did a FAST test on my butt and it brought me through to you guys”
I like to think the guy was talking about Tone when he said “I should be able to hear Tone through my butt and I’m not.”
The London Bureau of Devilry and Obfuscation
Here is a dream from last night:
Along with 7 others, I formed a club called The London Bureau of Devilry and Obfuscation. Our purpose was to investigate castles and archeological sites on The University of WA campus. The members were
We were tunnelling under the Reid Library in search of some Egyptian ruins when Jonesy, the Minister of Navigation took us on a wrong turn. Some campus guards spotted us and told us to stop. We pulled out our guns, pointed them at the guards, and made bang bang noises (because the guns did not have bullets). This only enraged the guards and they started shooting. I threw my gun at the guards and then we ran across the campus trying to lose them – through class rooms, corridors, New York, the University Club building, and finally through the waterslide park next to the Arts building where our clubhouse was.
I determined that our expenditure for the night was $40 each (to pay for my lost gun) and got everyone to pay. Andrew McCarthy determined that it was time for breakfast and got Conrad to make everyone scrambled eggs. Andrew McCarthy wanted to watch The Breakfast Club, but Beth pointed out that she was Minister of Choosing a Video and chose The Never Ending Story.
As we were watching the movie, I revealed to my baby brother Jimmy that he was a clone of my deceased brother. And that mum and dad didn’t like him as much as the real one. And that he was doomed to also die fishing at 20 like the real Jimmy.
The End
We’re all just vibrations in ten dimensions
Imagine a species of two-dimensional creatures living on a sheet of paper. The creatures can only move in these two directions and can only perceive these two dimensions. If you were to pick up the piece of paper and crumple it, the creases that you create will have added a third dimension to the piece of the paper. But the two-dimensional creatures would still only be able to perceive their two dimensions, as they too would have been crumpled along with their universe. When a crumpled creature tries to cross a crease in the page, they will be prevented from moving forwards in a straight path and shifted sideways by a “mysterious Force” created by the (imperceivable to them) simple change in geometry of the third dimension. They might give it some crazy name like gravity.
I am currently reading a popular-science book (light on the phys. so you can slam it down fast) called Hyperspace by Michio Kaku, which uses the above example as an introduction to string-theory and how current research shows that the forces of nature may be affected by multiple dimensions outside of our perception.
It says that the theory can explain wormholes, black holes, and time travel.
And I thought this book would be a change from the last few books I’ve read which were also Fantasy.
Currently Sucking On: My Saint Jude Medal
This morning, I walked to the back of the bus, pondering why the last three rows were almost empty.
At that time in the morning, I generally have to sit up the front, if I am even fortunate enough to find a spare seat. The solution to The Mystery of the Spare Seats assaulted my face as I slammed into a malodourous cloud of stench emitting from the one passenger sitting in the back seat. At that moment, I would have been willing to spend the rest of my life with only four senses if only the smell would stop. I now know what the Bog of Eternal Stench smelled like in the movie Labyrinth. Halfway through the action of sitting down, I stood up and went to the middle of the bus to stand. I turned back to observe Stinky Pete and expected from the smell to see a homeless person wearing clothes that had been polished with excrement. I did not expect to see a man in a well-tailored business suit.
Throughout the trip, I watched as people would walk to the back of the bus, I anticipated the involuntary shake that quaked through their bodies as they hit the stench. Some turned back; Some stayed; No-one sat next to the man in the suit. By the time we reached Perth, the smell had wafted midway down the bus.
I like to think that the passengers that sat next to the man fretted for the rest of the day that the smell had attached itself to them.
In summary – there was a smelly person on the bus today. Not very interesting is it? Of course, I’ve got another bus story from years back and this morning’s incident works nicely as a segway into this next bus tale. I’ve probably already told it to most people reading this, but will blog it, as I certainly would have blogged it back then, had I had a blog:
Picture this: I’m sitting on the driver’s side of the bus, second row from the back. I look out the window at a fine Summer day . I have my left ankle resting on my right knee and am tapping a tune on my boot with my fingers. The man across the aisle turns to face me:
”What the HELL do you think you’re doing!”
I stop mid-tap.
The guy has a shaved head, RayBan sunglasses, beard, leather jacket, jeans, and heavy biker boots. Oh Shit! I think; wondering what I have done to annoy the bikie. On second inspection, I realise he is not facing me, but rather someone sitting behind me in the back row. I turn my head to see, but only register that it is a guy, before looking back to the bikie.
He reaches around his back and pulls out a badge:
”I’m a cop. You’re under arrest!”
So, he’s a cop – not a bikie. I figure the guy behind me must be writing graffiti or something. I begin to turn around to look, but the cop stands up, and my attention is drawn to him:
”Driver! Stop the bus! I’ve just caught this man masturbating!”
My head whips forward immediately – eyes staring directly ahead.
The bus stops and the cop picks the guy out of his seat and propels him through the back door. The cop storms back, picks up the guy’s shopping, and thrusts it into the guys arms outside.
The cop asks the driver if he can use his radio to call it in, and does so.
He then comes up the back of the bus and asks me and a girl who’d been sitting in front of him if we had seen anything. We are both (thankfully) able to say no.
The whole time the cop is on the bus the perpetrator stands on the curb, shifting his feet under the scrutiny of the other passengers.
The bus pulls away from the curb as the cop launches into berating the pervert.
Now the important thing for you to take away from reading this blog is that both the smelly passenger from today and the pervert from years ago sat in the far-right seat of the back row of the bus.
Coincidence? I think not.
My Blog for Today, Because I Enjoy Haikus, Shall Be A Haiku
When it comes to favourite days of the year, popular choices for most people are New Years Eve, Christmas, Australia Day, or their birthday. My favourite day of the year occurs in mid-July: The Festival of Fire.
The Festival of Fire (FoF) has been run since 2000 by my uncle on his farm in Geraldton with family, friends, colleagues, and neighbours invited to attend and create a display involving fire. This year there were about 15 different displays.
The FoF is run on a Saturday night, and I went up on the Wednesday with my brother, cousin, and another of our uncles (who is 3 years older than I am). The trip seemed doomed from the start, as we were the only represesentatives from our family going this year; everyone else was struck down with illness and other disasters. We camped out on the property and experienced the joy of setting up our camp at evening time in the rain. The weather worsened and we found our very large camp tarpaulin blown over twice during the night. Camp morale was a tad low and got worse when on the Friday night while fishing (I caught a Tailor and 3 crabs) my cousin fell ill. Saturday morning saw us disassembling the camp and the three of them going home. I stayed on, the only representative of our large family, other than my uncle who was running it and his immediate family. This was fine, as his immediate family included three of my favourite cousins.
Anyway, enough doom and gloom. That Saturday morning saw the weather finally clear into one of the finest days that the middle of winter has to offer. At almost spot on noon cars began to rock up, so that by evening we had in the vicinity of 50 -60 people.
At dusk, the displays began. Displays included
-a rocket show (rockets being like fireworks but set off using electrical switches at a distance);
-a large sheet over a frame that burnt away to reveal a long-burning image of a Ned Kelly helmet;
-a rope with crackers and flares wrapped around it (this one was a bit of a fizzle. The next morning, we found an aerial flare that had not gone off. When we then set it off, it careened off a rock, and then missed our head and a 4WD by a couple of feet)
-A 9-foot statue of a man made from hay bales
-A family of 4 life size statues sitting on chairs (this one was good, but needed accelerant - it took too long to get going)
-An effigy and a train rising up a spiral (I felt that this one sullied the event, as the effigy was of a political figure and the train which looked cool carried political sentiments. The people who made it should have left their political convictions at home (along with their poncho). There’s a time and a place for politics - and it’s NOT during a fun-natured event, and NOT around me);
-A series of 10-20(?) viking vessels with canvas coverings that contained candles (A great effect was achieved that made them look as if they were glowing ships sailing down the horizon)
- Three perfectly proportioned 2-3 foot statues dancing in a circle (I saw these earlier in the day and it was a shame that they had to be burned - I thought they looked evil - as if they came from a nightmare)
- A structure that once lit shone out the Southern Cross
- A log cabin! (This one won the first prize for the night (a sandalwood trophy with a silhouette of a man burned through it)
- A trefoil-like spiral made from hundreds of matches (with the matcheads all touching, so the fire ripped across it)
- A full-sized trebuchet!! (Or a big-ass catapault for those not in the know. It was something like 9 feet tall and was loaded with boulder-shaped objects which were on fire)
I had two displays:
- A scarecrow with a papier mache head that flailed it’s arms as it burned (You better believe I had fun making the papier mache - it has a calming effect as you regress to Grade 2 arts and craft. Oh, and Clag glue still tastes as great after 20 years)
-A bird sculpture with a four-foot wing span (My brother made the sculpture, but intended it to be a static piece - I wired it together so that when i pulled a wire, the wings would flap while it was on fire. After rubbing 2 litres of kerosene into it, it was spectacular - the fire rolled down the wings when they descended and the flames joined together above the body as the wings rose. It’ll be a while before I have access to any of the photos or video taken of it - but when I do I’ll post it on the blog)
For the past few years, my uncle has made a large statue of a man out of cast-iron mesh and covered with wood (this year wicker) for the finale. It is huge. I am 5′10′’ and barely passed it’s knees as you can see in the photo. It took around an hour to erect using 8 people, metal wires, a tractor, and a ute. It took much longer last year. As it burned, the iron mesh melted so it crumpled in upon itself.
Afterwards, we played Flaming Soccer with kerosene soaked toilet rolls. The games has two teams (most players wearing coloured balaclavas indicating their team) and is played on a circular field with raised hoops (like Quidditch goals) for goals. I didn’t get one of the balaclavas and never really worked out which side I was on, or who won, but I came away with the hair still on my arms unlike last year.
The pics at the start of the article are of your truly making a fiery drop-kick.
Afterwards, I stayed up til 3:30am, chatting with my cousins (who were also camping out), and then looking up at the most amazing stars I have ever seen - we were in the middle of nowhere and it was a perfectly clear night.
The next morning after taking down the tent and other gear, we had a rifle-target-shooting competition and clay-pigeon shooting with the shotgun.
Phew…what a long blog…I’m spent.
Yesterday my computer and I both came down with viruses 
My virus began as a cough and slight running nose when I woke. After an hour at work, I had a headache, fever, and felt ill in the stomach. I left work, stopped past a pharmacy, and got back on the bus to come home. My day at work was so short that I got to use the same bus ticket to go home, which was a plus. I slept most of the day and got up when I heard my housemate Graham come home. After telling him that I was sick, I went to the toilet (still 2 rolls of poor-quality toilet paper to go. Good one, Con) and was hit by a burst of hacking coughs. Having heard the coughs and mistaking them for puking noises, Graham called through the door asking if I was okay, and later offered to take me to the hospital. I should have milked the sympathy, but set him straight that I hadn’t done Number 3s.
Having slept a bit, and having a keyless keyboard and mouse that I can use from my bed, I got on my computer.
A couple of days ago I heard the song Tingly by Pop! coming from Conrad’s room. Having loved the song when it came out ~10 years back, I got it from Con and listened to it over and over and over, to the point where iTunes shows that it is already my most played song for the past 3 months. I wanted to find out any info for the song so I started googling. The first page I went to had nothing to do with the song and my puter started going slow and making noises. As I hastened to close the webpage and open up Windows Task Manager, my Virus Scanner kicked in and told me that it had detected a Trojan Horse and did I want to cancel it from damaging my computer? Hrmmm… I chose yes.
It was a special moment between “Putey” and I. I came down with a virus, so my loyal computer did so too.
I’d like to think that if my computer ever crashes, I will be able to repay the favour.
You know you’re using the computer too much when…
A few weeks back I was asleep and in the middle of a dream when a pop-up message(as above) jumped up in front of my dream. In the dream, I then opened MSN Messenger which opened to the right of my dream. I messaged a friend and told him that I was having windows pop up in my dreams. I then closed the MSN, selected Continue Dream from the popup and continued my original dream.
I’m going to have to install a Pop-up filter in my head.
PS. As I was initially designing the banner from scratch, I googled “Windows Error Message” to make sure I got the correct font and came across Atom Smasher’s Error Message Generator and saved myself an hour.
Man, the Internet’s got Everything.
One nasty habit that I never dropped as I grew up has been biting my nails.
Now generally nail-biting is a sign of stress/tension/worry. But the only times I have consistently been able to stop biting them and allow them to grow long has been while doing exams at university - which I think most uni students would agree is NOT a stress-free period.
The other times I can grow them is when I am out and about getting dirty - such as a fortnight ago when I was camping in Geraldton. They have been looking good for over a week, but today they got too long so I cut them shorter in the morning. But the spell was broken - by mid-afternoon my nails had totally disappeared Maybe it is boredom. Anyway, I don’t expect to have nails again until around November…
It is a nasty habit and maybe you don’t want to read about it, so I’ll stop now.
Oh, and don’t even let me start on about my fingernails 
