July 31, 2006
July 27, 2006
Facts about flies
It has been a hot few days, and, as happens when it is hot, there seem to suddenly be lots of buzzy houseflies all over the place. They are everywhere. So common they are, that it is difficult to believe that as recently as the early 1928 the common housefly was on the endangered species list. Indeed, in the late 1800s, they were almost wiped out altogether, such was the Victorian passion for fly swatting, It's true; Victorian men would take a pride in their swatting abilities, and would keep fly-free homes, and whole communities would work to ensure that their streets were free of flies. In some communities, the Victorian men would take a break from abusing young boys up chimneys and taking snuff, and would instead wander about on the moors, blasting flies with shotguns. All of this had a decimating effect on the fly population, and by 1906, Sir Henry Campbell-Bannerman, the then Prime Minister of the UK made the common housefly an endangered species. Of course, this didn't deter the bloodlust of the men (no longer technically Victorian, but they still had moustaches and wasitcoats, and loved to kill flies more than almost anything else), who had just invented flypaper (actually discovered by accident - the Scotsman Hughie McShane was apparently trying to invent the Post-It note at the time), and had no intention of stopping their killing spree right now.
So, if it wasn't the protection order that saved the flies, what was it? It was, of course, the war. All of the men of England were despatched overseas to live in the ditches of Flanders for a few years (“it looked nothing like it did in the brochure”), and whilst there, they rather forgot about their passion for flies, and instead were rather preoccupied with bagging a few Jerries. Furthermore, the British Isles, now largely stripped of its murderous menfolk, was now a safe haven for flies of all varieties, and over 5 long summers they bred until they became the most populous creatures in the land. Which brings us up to the current day.
So, next time you are annoyed by flies, just remember that if it hadn't been for WW1, we'd probably be rid of them by now.
July 26, 2006
July 24, 2006
Dog Years
What is it with bloody dogs? They've got their own food, their own tags (as modelled by the military), their own collars (as modelled by vicars) and worst of all, their own unit of time: Dog Years. You hear Dog owners talking about their evil pet “oh, he is 8, but that is 41 in dog years”. Eh? So, Dogs have different years? Do they take a different orbit around the sun? Are they some sort of pandimensional superintelligent being, that can somehow orbit the sun 10.5 times per (human year), without their hapless owners realizing what is going on? How do they do this? Are the hoppng through strange wormholes in space. Do they twist the surface of space time? Just how far does a dog travel in a year anyway? Or, is a Dog Year actually a unit of distance (rather like a light year?). Speaking of which, is a dog a wave or a particle?
I hate dogs, and their stupid dog years.
Just to outline the level of my disgust, I intend to embarass them, by publishing an expose of other dog units:-
Ladies and Gentlemen, I give you the Dog Month (just under 3 days), and the Dog Week (16 hours). You've heard of Dog Days? No need to worry about them, as they are only 48 minutes long. And a Dog Minute is only around about five and a half seconds.
So, why stop with time? Let's try height. Why don't people say “My dog is 2 foot tall, but that is 6 foot in dog feet”, or “this is a 9 volt battery, but that is almost 61 dog volts”, or “my dog smells really bad, but normalising to adjust for him being a dog, he just has moderate BO”. The whole thing has just gone too far, and needs to stop. The only measurement which seems to be universal is IQ : “My dog has an IQ of 0, which is also 0 on any other scale you can mention”.
My wife says that I need to stop rambling now, as I've reached 351 words, which by my calculation was over 2000 dog words.
July 22, 2006
The Bat and the Teapot
Once upon a time in the land of Po, lived a King and a Queen. They ruled over the land of Po with a kind hand, and the people of Po loved them. One morning, the Queen was making breakfast for the King. She'd cut him a slice of bread, with butter and marmalade (which some people these days prefer instead), and was boiling the kettle for a cup of tea.
She reached down the big brown teapot from the highest shelf, and lifted its lid, and, out flew something flappy. She blinked. She rubbed her eyes. And there it was; a small fuzzy fruitbat. Called Jeremy.
“Hello, your majesty”, said Jeremy the fruitbat, ” I'm Jeremy the fruitbat and I've been living in your teapot”
“Pleased to make your acquaintance Jeremy”, said the Queen, “I'm very sorry for disturbing you, but I'm afraid that you can't go on living there, as I'm about to make a cup of tea for the King”.
“Oh dear”, said Jeremy, his wings deflated, “I'll need to find somewhere else to live”.
And with that, he flapped off to look for a new home.
By now, the kettle was boiling, and the Queen reached out for the tea caddy. She opened it, and, disaster! There were no tealeaves left in the caddy. Worse still, there were no tealeaves left in the palace. And even worse still, there were no tealeaves left in the entire kingdom.
“Oh whatever shall I do?” cried the Queen, dropping to her knees, sobbing.
Just then, she felt a small pair of feet land on her shoulder, and a fuzzy wing wiped away her tears.
“Don't worry, your majesty”, said Jeremy, “I'm from Ceylon, where they grow lots of tea. I can fly back to Ceylon, and pick you some nice fresh tea.”
“Oh would you?” said the Queen, “and while you're gone, I'll find you a nice place to live!”
So Jeremy the fruitbat flew out of the window, in the direction of Ceylon, and the Queen decided to make some coffee instead.
Some time later, in the faraway land of Ceylon, Jeremy was flying over a paddy field. Then he remembered that was where rice was grown, so he flew to a tea field instead. But, when he got to the tea field, there was no tea to be seen, just a rather sorry looking dog.
“That's strange”, thought Jeremy, “I wonder if it has all been picked. Perhaps that dog knows something”
“I'm a rabbit”, said the dog.
Jeremy decided that the dog would not be a good source of clues, and so he decided to fly to the PG Tips factory.
When he arrived at the factory, he beat his wings on the door furiously. Presently, the door opened, and a gaggle of chimpanzees looked out.
“'Ere, fancy a cuppa, love”, said a chimp wearing a headscarf.
“One lump or two?”, said a chimp wearing a bowler hat.
“I come by Royal Appointment from the land of Po, and I need to speak to the General Manager urgently.” said Jeremy, importantly.
The chimpanzees looked at each other.
“You need to speak to Brooke Bond, the Chimp Executive Officer of PG Tips”, said the chimp in the headscarf.
“And, that's me!”, said the chimp in the bowler hat.
“Good morning sir”, said Jeremy. “I have been sent by the Queen of Po, to fetch some tealeaves for the royal cuppa. It is a most serious matter”.
The chimps looked at each other.
“I'm afraid we have no tealeaves left at all”, replied Brooke Bond. “It has all been despatched to England, where it is reputed that they drink 48 billion gallons of tea per day. Each. Mostly between three and four in the afternoon.”
“However”, the chimp continued, “we do have a nearly inexhaustible supply of teabags, which you are welcome to take with you.”
So, the chimps tied the teabags to a piece of string, which Jeremy grabbed in his mouth and flew all the way back to the land of Po, dragging the tealeaves behind him.
When he arrived back at the castle, it was almost three o'clock, and the Queen was preparing afternoon tea. She had baked some scones, and made some little cucumber sandwiches. She was about to make some lime cordial as a tea substitute, when she saw Jeremy fly through the window with his string of teabags. “Why, Jeremy, you've arrived just in time!” she exclaimed, “and I've found you a perfect place to live!”
“Thank you your majesty”, said Jeremy, looking around.
“Yes,” continued the Queen. “The big brown teapot, on the highest shelf. Now that we have teabags, I can make the King's tea in a mug, and I need never use the teapot again”
Jeremy was so happy, that he flapped up to the highest shelf, and flew into the teapot for a good sleep. He was so happy to be back in his teapot. The King was so happy with his cup of tea (and his mood was so lifted that in fact, that several major wars were averted that day). The Queen was so happy to have made everyone else so happy.
And do you know? They all lived happily ever after.
THE END
Until one day, the Queen's Evil Aunty Peg made everyone a cup of tea using the brown teapot from the highest shelf, and poured boiling water into the teapot, killing Jeremy instantly.
July 20, 2006
Painful
Installing Windows Vista Beta 2 from DVD on a machine without a DVD drive, needing to use an external USB DVD drive, but the machine only supports USB1. By the time the install has finished, I suspect Vista may have shipped…
July 17, 2006
How to eat grass
Once upon a time, many years ago, a dog, a cat, and a mouse lived in a tall tree in the forest. The cat was very lazy, and spent most of his time asleep in the tall branches. The dog was very stupid, and spent most of his time running around the base of the tree, chasing his tail. The mouse was very hard-working, and spent most of his time gathering food. Every morning he would gather nuts and berries for breakfast. For lunch, he'd make a leaf and bark salad. And each evening, he'd whip up some scrambled eggs.
One morning, mouse was gathering nuts and berries, when along came a cow.
“Hello cow”, said mouse.
“Good morning mouse”, said cow, “and what are you gathering today?”
“I'm gathering nuts and berries, for breakfast” said mouse.
“Nuts and berries, for breakfast?”, said cow, “Eurgh. You ought to try grass”
“Grass?” asked mouse
“Grass” repeated cow, absent mindedly, “Quite quite delicious. Mind you, you need four stomachs to eat it properly…”.
“Four stomachs”, pondered mouse, as cow wandered off, “I wonder….”
Back at the tree, mouse found dog and cat, waiting impatiently.
“Duhhh, hullo mouse!” said dog.
“Where is our breakfast?” asked cat.
“Dog, cat, we're going to have something different today. We're going to have grass for breakfast. But we need four stomachs” said mouse.
Dog eyed mouse carefully. “But we only have one stomach each, which makes er one, two, er…”
“Three stomachs” interrupted cat, “we're one stomach short”.
“Where are we going to find another stomach?” asked dog, looking around at his tail, in case it had turned into a stomach.
But just then, a butterfly landed on cat's nose.
“Hello butterfly”, said mouse, “we were wondering, we need a fourth stomach in order to eat grass properly, and we only have three, so we wondered whether you'd be able to help us”.
“Grass eh?” said the butterfly, “I normally have pollen around this time in the morning. I'd love to help you guys, but I'm a butterfly and I don't really have strong enough teeth to eat grass”.
“Bother” said dog, who was looking forward to eating grass “where are we going to find a butterfly with strong teeth?”
“Butterfly, what you need is a good dentist, who can fix your teeth so they are big and strong”.
“But where could we find a dentist in the forest?” asked butterfly.
“I don't know, but I know someone who will” said mouse, as he marched off towards crocodile creek.
“A dentist, eh?” snapped crocodile. “Sure, I know of a great dentist. He is called bird. He gives my teeth a good clean every day, and in return, I don't eat him. It is called a symbiotic relationship. It beats health insurance premiums anyday.”
“Bird?” said mouse, “but he lives in the tree next to ours!”
“Why, what brings you cats up here?”, asked bird.
“Actually, I'm a mouse, and this is my friend butterfly…”, said mouse
“And I'm a rabbit” said dog, mistakenly.
“…my friend butterfly”, continued mouse, ignoring dog, “who desperately needs some larger, stronger teeth, so that he might be able to eat grass for breakfast”.
“Grass for breakfast?” asked bird, “but don't you need four stomachs for that?”
“Count us”, said cat sarcastically.
“Oh right, yes. I see”, said bird. And suddenly, with a deft swoop, he snapped the butterfly up into his beak.
“Ouch” said butterfly as bird ripped one of his wings off.
“Sorry”, said bird, chomping on the butterfly's thorax, “if theres no symbiotic relationship, then I don't do dentistry. Them's the rules.”, he continued, swallowing the rest of butterfly. “But, I can show you where to find some excellent grass, and I can provide you with a fourth stomach to help you eat it.”
So, the friends climbed down the tree, aside from bird who flew on ahead, leading the way. Presently, they stumbled upon a huge green pasture. By now, it was getting on for eleven o'clock, and they were all famished.
“Here you are”, said bird, fluttering down to land upon a dandelion, “beautiful green grass”.
“Grass! At last” said mouse.
“Grass!” said dog
“Grass!” said cat, and took a big bite.
It tasted of shit.
He spat it out, and looked at the mouse reproachfully. Cat narrowed his eyes, then pounced on mouse, and tore his head off.
Seconds later, mouse was no more. Fuelled by his bloodlust, cat set his sights on poor bird, who quickly succumbed in a writhing cloud of feathers.
In the meantime, confused by his hunger pangs, dog had convinced himself that his tail was food, and had started to chase it furiously. Eventually, he caught it, and devoured it hungrily. He ate and ate, until he found he had turned himself inside out.
“Oh dear”, said dog, and then died.
Cat looked around at the assorted carnage, and nodded sagely.
“Scrambled eggs for breakfast!” he thought, heading back to bird's nest.
Night night little ones. And tomorrow, if you are good, and don't wake up in the middle of the night and keep mummy and daddy up for hours, I'll tell you the story of the Bat and the Teapot