Scary Monsters (And Super Creeps)

Since the oddness of the previous webcam has hit the national headlines, I think it's only proper and right to share some of the interesting messages I've been receiving as of late.

It all started quite sensibly, with the following profound statement from Shep in Phoenix:-

nice cam. very natural. you've got some great face features.

Which is, I have no doubt you'll agree quite an accurate and honest appraisal. The next message, by somebody called "Mort" (now there's a made up name if I ever heard one) is just too disgusting to share with the general public, but immediately following on from that, things take something of a Jacksonian twist...

You are a very handsome boy. Hope to chat or correspond with you real soon. Please email me when you read this. Thanks

I know I look young on the cam, so when they say boy, I think they really mean it, but such weirdos are few and far between, right? Well, so I thought until I opened my emails this morning.

Hi nice man if you want I am in icq and i would chat with a nice boy in chat... J

Hm. Quite.

After receiving an ICQ message from "simonevolpe" (dunno where the J came from) I decided it would be best to let him down gently. I'm not that kind of boy, after all.

Unfortunately he wouldn't take no for an answer, and kept insisting that I was a "pretty boy" and that he wanted to be my "friend".

You'll note that veggiecam has been removed from that server and now points outside, of course.

Secrets.

Picking up the torch from Mort, here are Casa Kourosism's secrets, or at least a selection of those from my side...

1. I can't step on cracks in pavements, or walk under street signs without closing my eyes. To do so would severely shorten my sex life, or so I was once told. We will leave that particular discussion right there where it is, ta.

2. Somebody once (OK, about a week ago) spent an hour leaving many messages on VeggieCam telling me that I was "sad" and needed to "get a life". It took me three minutes to delete them all.

3. I lost a travel bug I picked up about a year ago.

EDIT: I was just about to go back into this blog and link to the bug in question, when I discovered I had actually placed the bug in another cache. I will not reveal how much time I have spent looking for this bug in boxes and things in the past twelve months.

4. I once very nearly hit a scout whilst driving dangerously. I am not proud of this.

5. I really, really don't like flying, unless it's in one of those little light aircraft thinummies where you can chat to the pilot and take over if he decides to go for a walk.


Well, that was somewhat cathartic, thanks Mort.

.sxw

While I should have been doing much more important things, like writing my CV and filling in application forms, I came across the following test. Yes, I'm well aware that there are far too many of these things, but I am bored so I feel fully justified in forcing this upon you all.

Which File Extension are You?

Fluff.

Right, that flag as been at the top of my blog for far too long, now to balance it out with something a bit more palatable.

Aaaaaw, look at the ickle grumpy puddycat.

Controversy.

*dons flame proof suit*

Following on from Harry's recent miss-step, some German politicans have called for a Europe-wide ban on Nazi symbols, including the swastika. As we all know, a similar ban has been in effect in Germany since the postwar constituion and I won't dare comment on how successful that has been, as I have not the required information to make a sound judgement - this is an opinion on the latest news only (and why do I even need that disclaimer?).

Ignoring the argument that the swastika is an ancient symbol only adopted by the Nazi Party*, not created by it, I can't help but feel that this smacks of a He who must not be named type mentality (see what I did there?).

While I expect that the ban wouldn't be as much of a whitewash as may be suggested, and that such images could still be used for scholarly reasons, why is it necessary to force people to stop being stupid by banning an image that might cause offence? Their very act of stupidity opens up the debate again, and gives the public at large a chance to learn why it was offensive in the first place... and even whether or not it still is.


* Or rather its predecessors, the NSDAP and DAP parties, and a fair bit before in other quarters as well but that's neither here not there.

Bertie.

This blog post fulfils the assignment I love Liquorice allsorts hats at lazyblog.org. You can rate it here.

I don't understand why anyone could possibly dislike Liquorice allsorts hats - our entire economy was built upon them, just like the Scottish economy was built on artichokes. The only difference is that artichokes aren't particularly strong, and the economy fell over.

But more about that another time. Perhaps. Now is the time for talking about sweetie head gear, and the bastion of such was Bertie.

I'm sure you're all about to cry: We know of Bertie! Bertie Bassett! But you see, you don't know of Bertie, you don't know of him at all. Bertie Bassett was a fake and a charlatan - there was only the one true Bertie, and he is the reason why I love Liquorice allsorts hats.

When I were but a wee lad, I had a dog and my dog's name was Bertie. He was called Bertie because his parents had named him Albert. I shortened it because I didn't like them very much.

Bertie was a lovely dog, if a little temperamental and prone to biting things. On the whole, however I'm sure he would've rather hide in a corner than attack any intruder. He wasn't a poodle and as such was never forced to have bits of his fur shaved off and made to wear pink ribbons. Nor was he one of those silly yappy things and therefore did not wear any daft tartan coats. In short, he was a naked dog, and I'm sure he resented us for it. While we went swanning around in our flashy shoes, coats and scarves, he had to make do with what nature gave. *

One day, Bertie died. Imagine if you will one of those dramatic scenes from fillums with the hero kneeled beside the victim's lifeless body, raising his hands and screaming skywards: Why? Why God why? Why not take me instead - he was only young, whereas I have had my time on Earth. Take me!

Actually, you'd have to just imagine that, as I wasn't there when he died: I was down the pub. And frankly, he was a dog - I'm not being harsh or anything, but if the choice was between me and the mutt, well I'm sorry pooch but your time is up.

Anyway, when I came home I was told of the dear dog's demise, and I promptly went into the kitchen and got myself something to eat. The first thing I came to was a bag of liquorice allsorts.

And what, dear reader, do you think I found at the bottom of the bag? Have a guess.

Go on, really. Guess.

No? Oh, bloody hell, I'll just tell you then. At the bottom of the bag was the paw from poor Bertie.** It turned out that my parents had a rather lucrative sideline in grinding up pets to make into liquorice.*** Times had been hard of late, and they had had to resort to their own family canine.

Now, whenever I wear a liquorice allsorts hat, I think of Bertie, and that a little part of him might just be in that hat. I like to think that he is proud to have been made into an item of clothing, clothing that he was never allowed to wear during his lifetime. And that's why I love liquorice allsorts hats. Perhaps I love them a little too much, but that's another story and I'll only be made to sit in my corner after I tell you.

* What nature gave was actually quite a nice fur coat, but that's not the point.

** May not be true.****

*** Also may not be true.****

**** But then again it might.

Twenty.

Those of you who work in offices will be well aware of certain peoples tendencies to lapse into managerial speak, such as "moving forward" instead of "hopeless gambit", or "spearheading" instead of "blatently stealing someone elses thunder and claiming all the credit for it".

In other news I am moving forward in spearheading a new campaign to replace the frankly ridiculous Twothousandand prefix that we've been using for the past few years, and replace it with the far more sensible Twenty. We've been living under a mass delusion since the new millenium that we had made the right choice, and well frankly, we were wrong. This delusion has affected, nay damaged all of our lives, and it was time that we took stock of the impact that it has had, and make amends.

Seriously, say it out loud: Twothousandandfive

Then try: Twentyohfive.

See? More concise, fewer syllables, and much more suitable for a certain Radio 4 newsreader that I most certainly did not nick this revelation from. Use it. Use it tomorrow.

Oh, and sorry there's no pic. I've been on the vino and it would only turn out blurred anyway.

VeggieCam.

I'm making huge leaps and bounds towards getting VeggieCam up and running.

By leaps and bounds, I mean I went to PC World and bought a webcam. It's online, and is currently only pointed at one vegetable. There may be more in the future. If you would like to see it, clicky on the linky above the “Get Firefox” and “Thunderbird” links. You can click on those too, if you want.

However, I'm hitting a few stumbling blocks with Stu's request - while the webcam software I am using at the moment does seem to record images, and as such I could manually grab the midday image each day, it seems like a lot of work. Anyone with more intelligence than a potato know how I might be able to beat this little trifle of an issue?

In other news, prompted by Andy the Bear, I played around with installing Linux on the LappyToppy today. First off was Gnoppix, based on the assumption that it couldn't do any permanent damage - it didn't, but then it didn't work either. Neither would it on my desktop.

Then came Ubuntu, which I have already fallen in love with despite the fact I've not used it - I can get to the installation procedure on the desktop, but no joy on the Laptop - it seems the BIOS refuses to let me startup from an external device. Either that or the drive is being temperamental about reading CD-R discs. Hey-ho - another day I'll get there.

Recipe.

Go to Supermarket (any except for Tesco will do fine), and buy lots of cheese, wild mushrooms (or pick your own) and white wine. Fontina and Emmental cheese is recommended, but extra value cheddar will also do fine. Potato wedges, crusty bread and apple will be needed for dippers.

Coarsely chop and fry your mushrooms while grating cheese. If you are ambidextrous you may be able to do this at the same time, otherwise enlist the help of a partner or do both seperately.Measure out a reasonable quantity of wine, remembering to keep some back to drink.

Put all in big fondue pot, and let simmer for a while. Add herbs to taste.

Add a teaspoon of cornflour, and stir until the texture of Golden Syrup.

Get fondue burner and forks out of cupboard.

Realise you haven't got any methylated spirits for the burner.

Climb into loft for camp burner and gas canister, and set up on kitchen table, setting to a low heat, and put fondue on top.

Eat heartily, dipping aforementioned wedges, bread and apple into pot before eating. You may wish to use your forks for this step to avoid possible scolding.

Vegetables.

I haven't blogged in a while, so I figured that I'd wander round the house aimlessly looking for something interesting to take a photo of. I failed.

Instead, you can have this image of a portion of our back garden - over the next few months it will miraculously transform into a vegetable patch and provide us with life sustaining goodness or possibly just a few weeds.

I might even set up a vegetable cam if I thought anyone would be remotely interested (actually now I've written that I'm fairly confident that no one would be interested, ergo I will not do such a thing).

In other news, I have had a day off today - Hurrah! But I've done ostrich all with it, and as some sort of punishment I now have to go to Orange again next week. And the week after, and probably one weekend over the same period as well to help my sister move house.

Will hopefully find something more interesting to blog about tomorrow.