...this "Windows" key of which they speak?
Yes, yes, serves me right for using an IBM Model M older than most Microsith employees.
389 posts • joined 8 Aug 2007
I was going to buy a 160 Gb Classic but decided to leave it until after my holibobs. When I returned to Blighty the gits had stopped making it and chancers were asking $SILLY_MONEY. My old and faithful 60 Gb is down to 2 Gb free.
I have a refurbished 160 Gb model now, hopefully this will last until the Mega-Global Fruit Corporation realises that 64 Gb is too frikkin' small.
What's not to like? I churned out masses of total bollocks on one of these as a Penniless Student Oaf in the mid-80's and it was streets ahead of my crappy Olivetti portable.
I used to work with a chap who used the predecessor of that Microwriter wossname for *everything*. It was spooky watching him in meetings taking notes with one hand, without even looking at the thing.
...as the "plank" who was the last passenger to board BA 219 on September 3rd this year, it was entirely the fault of the useless twunt at the check-in counter who issued me with a boarding card that directed me to entirely the wrong gate in entirely the wrong part of LHR T5. *And* my phone was switched off.
...a couple of months ago BA's automagical check-in system decided, in mid-process, to decline to acknowledge my existence. I therefore went to the organic version, who duly issued me with a boarding pass. Gate B67 at LHR T5. When I got there, I found a big shiny Boeing 747 loading passengers bound for Los Angeles, which was a more than minor inconvenience for someone who wanted to fly to Denver. Fortunately a nice and, crucially, competent BA employee was able to direct me to the correct aeroplane.
I was the last to board. "We've been waiting for you" said a member of the cabin crew, disapprovingly. I showed him my fatally flawed boarding pass. He was apologetic. I was apoplectic, though not to the extent that I'd consider using a US airline for next year's holibobs.
In my first job as a Babbage-Engine driver we had a PDP which was used for word processing, and also by the accounts/payroll bods. Being a curious type who wished to be a 1337 h@xx0r, I discovered that the WP files could be accessed from the command line and were easily legible on a VT100 once you'd stripped away the initial gibberish. After only a couple of months in IT I knew the entire company's salary structure, which was galling as the only person paid less than me was the Wee Work Experience Lackey.
Twenty-six years later to the day and I'm still driving VMS boxes.
...but an e-chum recently got a job spec from a Slave Trader. The employer wanted someone with four years experience of developing apps for the Jobsian Fondleslab. Yes, please DO ask yourself how long said device has been available in the UK. Then ask yourself how clueless a Slave Trader would have to be not to pick up on this.
When my last job went to India I got a copy of "my" CV from the HR Droids. It bore absolutely no resemblance to the document I'd sent to the Slave Traders some seven years previously and, while it didn't say I was fluent in spoken and written Xhosa, the rest of it was so full of outright Lie that I am mildly surprised that I'm not doing porridge for fraud. And this was not the first time that a Slave Trader has re-written my CV to make me appear to have l33t 5k1llz in an area of which I know little. Witness the embarrassing time when some chump sent me to an interview with $BIGCO. I had understood it was for a VMS BOFH position, so all of us were a bit put out when it turned out that they were actually looking for a RSTS system manager.
Get you own bloody house in order, Sarah Connor, before you start bitching at the people who, when all is said and done, pay your fucking salary, er, commission.
Frankly I'm pleased the world wasn't sucked into an uncontrollable black hole. When they first switched on the LHC I was in the nearest equivalent of an uncontrollable black hole viz. Heathrow Terminal 5, and how embarrassing would it be to die while sitting on the floor at T5.
1 - Because Lord bloody Rogers thought huge and no doubt architecturally significant areas of bugger-all were more aesthetically groovy than providing the weary traveller with somewhere to SIT DOWN. Grrrrrr!
I'm obviously a skinflint, coz a car that can be specced up to the best part of forty-five grand doesn't sound very mainstream to me. also the involvement of Victoria Beckham should be enough to deter any right-minded person from buying this particular variety of wankpanzer.
I think that when RB says she didn't pay Plod for information, she means that she *personally* didn't go down to the Stab Vest & Truncheon with a brown envelope stuffed with tenners. I don't think she's denying that *someone* from the News of the Screws was putting a few "drinks" the rozzers' way.
If Brooks is lying about knowing about this then she should be sacked for being a liar. If she isn't lying she should be sacked for being incompetent. As to the Met, it was not for nothing that the local plod during the miners' strike referred to them as "bananas".
Not sure why anyone would need more than one inquiry into the whole sorry business
A couple of years ago I snapped up a bottle of Bruichladdich from Tossco in Harlow. The tilldroid ran it past the scanner a Several of times, but The System refused to recognise it. A The Supervisor was called. She returned five minutes later.
"Computer says no" she informed me. "This whisky is not on the system".
I concluded that my removing the offending bottle from the store would not constitute theft, since they weren't selling it in the first place. Sadly the horriblemarket operatives didn't see it that way and in the end I had to fork out lots of money for a bottle of the Balvenie Doublewood instead.
After Ayn Rand started blathering on about her theory which is hers and belongs to her and seemed indistinguishable from Mr Crowley's "do what thou wilt shall be the whole of the law" I'm afraid I got bored. Then we had some 1990s breadheads who named their children after Ayn Rand (which automatically destroys their right to be taken seriously) and sawn themselves as "Randian heroes" (I have not the words). It might have got better after that, but by then I'd lost the will to live and had started drinking heavily.
"The Power Of Nightmares" was utterly compelling. This is the opposite.
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