Re: "a thermostat which could tell when a person was on holiday"
Your're going to have a deep and meaningful exchange of information with your thermostat, are you?
I refer you to the humourous ditty from the Khaptain.
77 posts • joined 14 Apr 2010
Likewise on the parsing, or lack of.
This article was bad enough, but I made the terrible mistake of visiting that damned site.....
Now i love the English language, truly i do, but having now seen what it can be twisted and mangled to produce?
Frankly, i would rather speak French...yes it's that bad....what few active brain cells i have left are very, very scared.
Don Jefe - I've refrained, so far, from commenting on your posts on this subject, but now you've done it!
You've confirmed my suspicion that you are the sanest person on this site. The last part, especially, nearly made my lips curl upwards.
I've always thought** that what was left in Pandora's Box was the most sly, sneaky, pernicious evil of them all, and the rest were just a distraction - classic infiltration techique, send in a bunch of minor league agents to keep the Plod busy, whilst the real threat walks in to a smile and a welcome.
(** then again, i'm well known for being a miserable old git with a heavily jaundiced view of our species)
have a pint sir
Almost all of the previous options are bloody good guesses, apart from the "down the back of the settee" one which i personally liked.
I think that one gruesome aspect of this may have presented a chance that's almost certainly gone now - and that's the most obvious debris from a crash at sea - bodies.
In that area, thousands of shipwrecks and military sinkings from various wars, have fed a large population of - sharks.
So...if they had looked for a huge mass of sharks in the relevant area(s), there just might have been a 777 in there somewhere.
Just saying is all...chercher le requin
That could solve the buoyancy issue you know?
One Brandreth or Fry as self-loading cargo
Supply said cargo with a mirror and some millet
They will gitter like budgies for hours on end, thus
Supplying all the hot air one could ever need, but....
getting them to stop may be a problem, and you could be faced with a Flying Dutchman/Masque of the Red Death scenario, where they would roam the skies for eternity, listening to utter drivel.
On second thoughts......icon says it all.
Now there's a name to conjure with...The Nawab of Pataudi....if you're ever tempted to change your name by deed poll, then this is the name to choose...at least for me....always made me dream of the pre-Raj India, when real princes ruled their own little, and not so little, feifdoms...with hundreds of elephants bedecked in cloth of gold, huge Sikh guards with razor sharp tulwars and, latterly, 35 gold-plated Rolls Royces in the stables...oh, and 23 and a half polo ponies (the resident tiger's still eating one).
Nawab of Pataudi...praise for your efforts to unite Indian national cricket, but even more praise for having such an evocative name.
I know that feline look far too well....leather gloves would be just the start of it mate.
Even without the "technical" upgrade to Robo status, you would be better off with:
1. a full-body suit of Chobham armour (or armor for our ex-colonial friends), if such a thing could be made.
2. then there would be titanium helmet with the 25mm thick perspex visor
3. then the reinforced chainmail and kevlar gorget.
and finally, if all that doesn't blunt its enthusiasm, then take the little feline bastard out with
4. a large elastic band and a slice of heavily buttered toast.
You'll thank me one day, all of you, you will...just wait.
Ignore the down-voting fantasists sir.....I couldn't, really couldn't, have phrased that better meself.
Reminds me of some spectacular rants I made in the 1970s and 80's...lost my chance at more than one romantic interlude due to that point of view - which i still hold.
If you can't look up at a clear and starry night, and come to terms with the very distinct probability that you/we are all there is of so-called sentient life in this observable universe, then reconsider your claims to intelligence.
I salute you WalterAlter - have an upvote and a beer.
Was at Stirling Uni back in the late 70s, and our local in Bridge of Allan, The Westerton Arms, had a House Special - the Cobalt Bomb - a similar effect to the PGG if imbibed more than once an evening.
.Ingredients, to be poured into a quart (2 pint) glass if available:
1 x Bottle of Fowlers Wee Heavy @ 7.5% ABV
1 x Bottle of Carlsberg Special Brew @ 9.0% ABV
Pour in ordinary Heavy until 3 inches from the top - say 4% ABV
Top up to the brim with Cider - say 4% ABV
NB: can be turned in to a Neutron Bomb with the addition of a measure of Vodka - 37.5% ABV
DO NOT STIR - as this spoils the effect, but to be honest after the first half pint?...you won't notice.
Sadly gone as a House Special, and possibly banned under the Chemical Weapons Convention.
that was the Southern Hemisphere Interstellar Trucking Team Emergency Roaster. SHITTER to you poms...they just had to pop in for a quick barbie and a few tinnies, before shooting off to crush some poor unfortunates at rugby...league or union....seems they're keen to tackle a few Posleen....that stuff flying out the back?...empties mate...
I fully expect this to be read by your next-of-kin, as the relatively small and industrious spiders at the front are just a distraction...it's the huge mutant funnel-web burrowing up under yer floorboards that I would worry about....classic Oceans 11 or Mission Impossible ploy that one...
I for one fully intend to voluntarily extinguish myself, either when i pay off all my debt, or if Scotland votes YES to independence.
I urge any thinking Scotsperson to consider the same, if next year brings more of the mindless parochialism we already endure - witchhunts will be the least of it, think more along the lines of "ethnic cleansing"
Which makes me ponder the merits of putting all Twattface users to the sword?
So...let me get this straight....
"They like to get into cars and hide behind the sun visor."
In Oz, you have spiders that not only scare the bejesus out of you, but are also amazingly gifted?
How else to explain their ability to break into cars, and the jump out at the most comically appropriate moment....
All hail our Not-So-Incy-Wincy Arachnid Overlords
....giving us all the finger..."flipping us the bird", as our ex-colonists put it i believe?
(not that i took this seriously of course...oh no, not me laddie!)
Anyway, it's not a patch on the Loch Ness monster, which i have had round for tea many a time - she adores the freshly caught haggis which abound on the conical hills around here......really!
Nice wee island though.
...just a (largely) male cohort of children, with a narrowness of mind that would be laughable, if it weren't so sad.
FFS, just stop and listen to yourselves...just stop all the jibber jabber, name calling, penis measuring, useless shit, and recognise who and what we are as a species...predators
There are over seven thousand million of us; we won't or can't stop reproducing; our planetary resources are finite (look it up); there is no Technological Singularity that will save us; there is no miracle cure; there is only what we are and what we do...we consume.
We are making a difference to this planet and its ecology, no doubts about it, no argument from me but let's face it folks, we all know that we are destructive - all sea life and all land-based life, even the cute ones (Pandas and dolphins...awwwww); the air and water; the soil.....all of it worse off for having us around, no exceptions.
Forget endangered species tags, we'll kill, eat, discard, annihilate anything, and the really honest part?...we just don't, down-in-the-basement-of-our-souls, care enough...just look at what we do to our own!
I have absolutely no doubt that we will make this planet uninhabitable for our kind, and take down a large proportion of our fellow, non-human inhabitants with us...no..doubt...at...all....just a matter of time, and not much of that.
Coming to a place near you will be: Food wars; water wars; oil wars(again); have versus have-not wars...as one of the previous commentators quite rightly said...all wars are civil wars.
Stripping away the verbiage? - we're fucked. Try to put that as kindly as you can to your children.
...and one more thing to help define what WAS TechNet, and what IS MSDN...just a tiny wee hint....
Apart from the OS only version, MSDN doesn't come alone - it's true name is Visual Studio *Whatever* with MSDN *Whatever*...now that to me is a strong indicator that its target audience ain't SME-land...what it does allow you to TEST, is the coded app that you wrote using the developer tools, and that's why the other downloadable stuff is there.
If you want to make sure that the product stack that you recommended for your customer, be they small or medium, actually works together, on the hardware they want - you test and evaluate - you DON'T FUCKING DEVELOP!.
Everybody clear now?...or shall Trevor and I pay you a "visit"?
I call BULLSHIT!!
I've worked with the licensing side of TechNet and MSDN for too many years to be comfortable with, and as i said beforehand, it's only recently that MSDN was redefined as for TEST and development.
TechNet was, for SMEs, the optimal route for TESTING and/or EVALUATING whether or not the solution you were providing to yer customer actually worked, when you uncaged the gerbil - DEVELOPMENT, you muppet, is an entirely different kettle of keech!**
** Scottish for shite.
You're right Trevor..I've been a licensing geek for nearly 20 years, and it's only recently(relatively) that the MSDN subscription EULA was altered to include "test" as well as development - *that* was the stiletto between the ribs of TechNet.
Even when i worked on the MS Partner HelpDesk, we used TechNet on a daily basisi, just to be able to put some poor miserable sod of an SME partner out of our misery - a much under-rated product back before the millenienienium.
Agreed - damned foolish to eat your seed corn AND shoot the breeding livestock - MS will end up producing homogenised product....OK insert the word "more" in front of that....but any remaining sparkle/glimmer/glint of originality will dim that wee bit more because of this.
Something a bit more clever, eh?
I know what!....yes, start cowering now those who've seen my posts before....cower properly, damn you!!
Now..where was I?..Oh yes...we in this tiny wee set of islands look, quite rightly, at Skylon and praise its style and elegance of solution. That's ecause of the "tiny wee" bit...we don't have huge amounts of largely useless land that we can use/abuse for the Porpoises of......<drum roll>
10,000 ton plus, built using anything that's strong enough, as in effing big girders, because wieght is not an issue when you use...
to punt you very quickly in to orbit, and very, very quickly to Mars/Luna/Tesco/wherever....there...done now...you can uncower...oh...i've invented a new word...<well I could hardly have invented an old one could I>
The obvious icon.....obviously
Sad doesn't begin to describer it.......buggrit hand and shrimp
.....I felt exactly the same when I read about the diagnosis, and I feel exactly the same as you now....could really, really weep, but will probably keep that for home time and an extremely large alcoholic drink.
Mind you, he was a Fifer :-)
Farewell...to the Culture, as IMB was a fellow atheist, and is nowt but some eminently recyclable Matter now....munchity crunchity.
But....it's not their fault!
I find it barely credible that car manufacturers can actually offer most of their models, with indicators as an Optional Extra, and those poor wee souls, who want a decent car on a low budget, obviously take the alloys before indicators option...I mean, who wouldn't.
So please...don't fume at those who don't indicate, it's not their fault......really.
You can't name ships better than this man, no Jack Palance, and the joy he gives (nae past tense here mind) with his universe/Mind/Culture books is Pure Bad Big Magic Man...example:
description of a war droid avatar at his formal debriefing - "...a gorgeously tattooed limping albino dwarf, with a speech impediment and double incontinence.."
I nearly wet meself when I read that, no bigger compliment in my book.
All Hail Banks!
(HEY!!..Aw youse Paisley Buddies fae Figgie Park?....get a grip ya wee nyaffs, because THIS is how a life is lived by the way.)
Oooooh! Now you've done it...
ginger women and trifle...
ginger women WITH trifle....
ginger women COVERED with trifle....
all that jelly, and cream, and goodness knows where the sponge fingers go......
<right lads, that's got the pervert sedated!...well done with the dart gun Jenkins, now there's a good lad and point it the other..>
.....Paris because...well..cream, jelly..who else?
Image of Celestial Chariot, with 2 Borg Cubes instead of furry dice, driven by a shell-suited Omnipotent Chav-Being called Shayne....
That might finally answer all those "but-why-does-God-allow-bad-things-to-happen" questions.
Answer? He's too busy, cant' be arsed, and anyway Call Of Duty version 3, 531,229 is out, so he's off to his mates and won't be back any time soon (eternity x 2).
The fires of hell do indeed await you, being stoked by the verminous French who lured you in to this blasphemy in the first place - you must know that "mayo", better known to The Faithful as weasel vomit, was invented by les Francais in revenge for the British/English invention of The Sandwich (all praise to the Earl), and to spoil its Primacy in the world of Sacred Food?
Its mere presence in the same sentence/paragraph/library as Bacon, is grounds enough for a fatwah.
<icon more appropriate than usual>
That, my companion in taste, says it all....the only film that I've ever walked out of..GF wasn't amused to say the least, she was a BIG fan of that sort of tripe - shortly thereafter she became ex-GF.
I'm a typical, thrifty (mean) Scot, and I've sat through some dire films in my time, just because I'd refused to admit that I had effectively shoved my entrance fee down the toilet - but this one had me silently begging for someone to firebomb the cinema...then I broke and ran.
With remarkably few exceptions, you lot are a right load of gasbags. Worrying about something you can't control is futile. So is burying your head in the sand. It's effing Friday, it's lunchtime. Go to the pub FFS, and stop all this pointless chatter.
I for one welcome my alcoholic overlords.
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