Monthly archives: March 2003

Less War, More…….?

I can’t go over to No War for Blogs permanently, every so often I just have to scream into the blogosphere at the stupidity of it all, but I promise to try and cut down on the GW2 blather. Perhaps if I can take a step back I can figure what I can, and must, do to help prevent this sort of thing happening again. First, and most obvious, I have to register to vote. There are local elections coming up soon, if any of them are in this area I should take the chance to vote for someone who opposes the war.

Don't Tell The President

Okay, No War Blog weekend has officially ended, and this is such a biggie that I thought it was important to share. The President of the USA, the most powerful single man on the planet, he who has his finger on the big red button- wasn’t really told all the information and analysis needed to decide whether to invade Iraq. He doesn’t make decisions based upon millions strong ‘focus groups’, but then again, he doesn’t make them based upon the facts either. God help us, we’re all doomed.

via WTF is it now?

Anti Ian and Uber Ian

I’ve been receiving relationship advice from other members of Spinneyhead.
Brian’s was most succinct, quoting Yoda in a comment he simply states- “Do, or do not. There is no try.”
Daz weighed in with “You’ll never know if you never try.” and “Why don’t you just call up [insert name of current crush here] and ask her out?” He’d make a good mother. (He’s known me for long enough to realise the futility of using that argument on me, but still he tries. He’d make a very good mother.)
John’s advice is the most intriguing. He thinks I should start channeling anti-Ian, who won’t be so shy or crap. Anti-Ian would be unreliable, lie and probably cheat. But he would get laid.
The problem is, the best time to channel this alternative persona is whilst drunk. When I’m drunk I turn into Uber-Ian, who is a sort of hyperactive version of everyday Ian. If you want to have a conversation about whether sheep or goats would make better skiers (goats, because sheep are too dumb to be able to handle fakie moves), U-I’s your man, but if you want me to chat you up, you’re right out of luck.
Alternatively, he has offered the loan of his nephew, because babies are total chick magnets.
Emily has told me some of her friends used to fancy me. But that was several years ago, if she’d wanted to be useful she should have told me then.

No War For Blogs

This whole abstention from mentioning That Thing of Theirs is proving really hard.
The referrals logger seems to work. I know it’s only been quarter of an hour or so since I installed it, so I can’t expect information overload just yet. Give me until five o’clock.
This is how I learn about things, bodging them together from borrowed stuff and snippets from text books, watching what happens and then ripping it up and making it do something a different.
Relationships don’t work like that. Which is a shame, because I’m really quite good at the practical stuff, once I get up to speed. It’s getting the project started that’s tricky. And then there’s all the resouce allocation and Project Management and meetings and…..
Did you hear that? That was the sound of an analogy shattering.

So what is happening around here?

Some people might wonder what I am doing up at 6am in the morning posting to the greatest website ever told. My age is simply catching up with me. Very strange indeed. I haven’t even had coffee yet. The laptop is open and playing is G Love, “Sarah’s song”, The sugarbabes (don’t ask), “stronger”, and Ian Brown playing ‘No Fear’. You should check out Mr. Dolphins Were Monkeys website as it is pretty damn entertaining.

I went to the outdoor cafe with the evil, immoral webmaster yesterday. The weather was absolutely fantastic enabling us to sit outside and enjoy the first fashion show of the year. This fashion show should be seen by every man on the planet because when you combine late march with warm weather and hot sun, the girlies shed layers of clothing with an immediacy deserved only for a US troop lost in the Iraqi desert. It was quite enjoyable.

Holy crikies! There is a war on!!! Damn, I almost forgot. I hereby declare this weekend as the official “Weblogs don’t need War for hits” weekend. I solemnly promise not to post any chatter or links on this farce known comically with serious irony “Operation Free Iraq”. Nuff said. Anyone else care to join me?

Now to the good stuff. Formula One racing has finally got interesting again! The new rules have definitely made an impact on public opinion and I would wager money Bernie Ecclestones pocketbook as well. The website is pretty well stocked with links and info. Not that many international readers will care, but the American baseball season is on its way. This is going to kick ass and thankfully Channel Five will be showing some live games each weeknight. One thing I have noticed is the trend for British people to wear New York Yankees baseball caps without even knowing who the fuck they are! Well, Well. Let me explain a bit further. The New York Yankees, the greatest baseball team ever told, somehow in gods infinite wisdom managed to put together a merchandising agreement with Manchester United. It was a crappy move, but what can you expect from conglomerate sports teams. Now all of a sudden in the British ghetto its cool to wear a Yankees cap. C’est la vie.

And finally from Wired:

“A 17-year-old kid arrested for hacking into ATMs on Long Island turns out to be the son of IBM’s director of client security, reports the New York Post. Loren Anderson is the alleged brains behind an identity-theft operation that resulted in about $100,000 being stolen. “


Yes, I did it again and went and redesigned the front page. The switch to left hand drive was accidental (I was playing with tables to fit in the new logo and finding that it just wouldn’t work in Explorer, Navigator or Mozilla but was wrong in a different way in each of them. I slipped when I was putting everything back and voila.)

There’s now a Spinneyhead Cafepress shopwith-

Smaller ones are MORE JUICY baby doll Tshirt

and Boxers

and, because I love the new lock logo and really wanted to put it on something

Everybody loves a sailor

I can’t find the related story, but Daz just received an email with this little snippet in it-

From sky news

“Umm Qasr is a city similar to Southampton,” UK defence minister Geoff Hoon said in The Commons yesterday.

“He’s either never been to Southampton, or he’s never been to Umm Qasr” says a British Squaddie patrolling Umm Qasr. He added: “There’s no beer, no prostitutes and people are shooting at us. It’s more like Portsmouth.”

Even the prosecution can't keep their arguments straight.

Avoiding all this war stuff for a moment –

Texas, being quite a strange place, has laws against deviate (sic) sex which apparently includes anal and oral sex (but not bestiality), There a case in the Supreme Court at the moment where a gay couple are appealing against their conviction for having sex in their own bedroom. There’s an article about the court case and it seems be confusing everyone involved. Personally I can’t see the legal argument against anyone doing anything consensual in private, as long as they don’t feel the need to tell me aboutit (or scare the horses). But you would expect the prosecuting lawyer not to provide arguments for the defence.

Rosenthal says there’s a good place to draw the line of privacy and fundamental rights, and that line is “at the bedroom door.” “But the line is at the bedroom door in this case!” yelps Breyer.

Just to be clear, Rosenthal is the prosecuting attorney.

Good Grief Charlie Brown

“The enemy we’re fighting is different from the one we had war-gamed against,” says Lieutenant General William Wallace, the senior US ground commander in Iraq. Oh for fuck’s sake people! Sometimes you get the feeling that someone in the war room just went “Oh they’ll roll over and let us pat their tummys when they realise we’re bringing them McDonalds, Starbucks and Britney.” and so the plan was born.

Then again, it might be for the best, because the team they wargamed against was consistently kicking the shit out of them, at least until the Blue team spat the dummy and told the Red commander to play by their rules or they were taking their toys home.

Meanwhile, the poor bastards who have to carry out these Hollywood inspired orders are charging for al-Kut, the site of a major British defeat in World War 1