hirez: (Bunny Eye)
Tidying the outside (or at least the bit of outside that the bank considers I mostly own) continues. If not apace, then at least awalk or apotter.

After the excitement of Fire! yesterday, there was putting the remains of the fire in the composter, putting some other stuff in the composter, weeding round the bottom of the near end of the clothes line and then realising that that the near end of the clothes line was only upright through rust and rotten wood holding hands.

First port of call - http://u-bolts-r-us.co.uk (An actual website, m'lud) who didn't keep V-bolts.

Second port of call - Blakes of Sheffield. I was tempted to order seven things because it's Eastercon in the other window.

N-th port of call, sparky fun machine shop because swearing away at a rusty bolt with a Junior hacksaw will be less than no fun. Also, angle-grinder.
hirez: (dissent)
Have we reached peak social network yet?

I mean, I read 'Ello' and all I can hear is Lydon going ''ello. 'ello.' before Wobble sparks up the bass and it all kicks off splendidly. And, because I'm some sort of filthy hipster, the other thought in my head is 'Where's the Android client?'
hirez: (psyche-out (ii))
A stupid and annoying phrase that is surely destined for a Powerpoint presentation fell into my head the other week, and it went along the lines of 'Things like Github mean you have a whole pile of shit-hot hackers working for you for free'.

Assuming of course that your corporate interface to the thing like Github has enough clue to make use of the free things thus presented. Magpie and Cargo-cult are pretty much optimal anti-patterns there.

The other obvious thing is that leaving all your useful code there saves having to re-invent wheels should you have to up sticks and ply your trade elsewhere. I guess keeping that in mind also makes one aware of the need to avoid localisms.
hirez: (Pie!)
Jabbering about lunch is one of the web2.0 things that people are supposed to do. Or was it taking pictures of your lunch? I forget.


If you are in Bath of a Tuesday or Thursday, the hot roast in a baguette from Thyme will likely put you in a meat coma, fit for nothing but curling up under your desk and farting quietly. Imagine something that looks vaguely like a large doner, but filled with steak (or roast other stuff, depending on day), roast spuds and a slathering of fried onion instead.

When on the way back from some misbehaviour the other evening, I had cause to be at the M4 end of the M32. In the middle of the multi-lane roundabout where motorway rules still apply (Not unlike the M50/M5 interchange at Strensham) there was Tyres-from-Spaced, having it seriously chiropracter to the sound of the passing traffic. There were about a half-dozen people in as many cars, staring at him with blank incomprehension and ignoring the traffic lights.

It was really rather odd.
hirez: (Cooper-Clarke)
V&B are bOinged. Profit!
hirez: (psyche-out (i))

Frank Hovis

Man with a twitch (Comedy genius)


hirez: (Default)

August 2017

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