But I managed to avoid being ended by wannabe albatrosses. One thing that was ended recently was C's PS3. He invited me around on Sunday, only to find out that his Playstation had developed a terminal condition known in the medical world as the YLOD (or yellow light of death in layman's terms). This is where the machine switches on with its green light indicating fucntionality resplendently and then changes its mind in an actually-I'd-rather-not-do-what-I'm-supposed-to-do-if-it's-all-the-same-to-you manner. So we made the 20 mile round trip to get another one. Alas, this was not as simple as it should have been, as C's bank card had been blocked by Barclays because C had the temerity to buy items from outside the U.K. Apparently that sets off the red light at Barclays HQ, the one that signifies that A TERRORIST MUST HAVE TAKEN OVER THIS ACCOUNT. Either that or they're rather xenophobic. Anyroad, C managed to swear enough to get them to unblock his account, he bought a new PS3 and back we trotted to his. It was only a couple of minutes after the new PS3 had been switched on that it too suffered the YLOD. The odds against this happening were somewhat slim. The odds against C's reaction were not.
Tuesday 13 November 2012
In Which I Abhor Swan Lake
On Saturday, I went out with D for a few lunchtime
drinkies. Nothing too much interesting there, the usual conversation-
D telling me how he was struggling to overcome his Mini Cheddar
addiction, me telling him my plans for when I become king of the
world. However, we'd decided to meet each other en route at a super
sexy secret location, and, as ever, he was an ickle bit late. I stood
by the boating lake where about 30 swans were, well, swanning about.
As soon as I sat down on an adjacent bench, approximately 30 swans
stopped swanning about and headed towards me. Now I haven't read the
book “The Birds” or seen the film either, but I think I can
safely say that a swarm of swans bearing down on you is more
terrifying than a bunch of seagulls or crows. When D came along, he
saw me running away from them with a tell-tale trickle of wee-wee
following my footsteps. “Scared of the birds?” “Yes I fucking
am! Those things want my flesh!” “No they don't, they just want a
bit of bread. “Do I look like a fucking baguette? That's not hunger
in their beady little eyes, it's murder.
But I managed to avoid being ended by wannabe albatrosses. One thing that was ended recently was C's PS3. He invited me around on Sunday, only to find out that his Playstation had developed a terminal condition known in the medical world as the YLOD (or yellow light of death in layman's terms). This is where the machine switches on with its green light indicating fucntionality resplendently and then changes its mind in an actually-I'd-rather-not-do-what-I'm-supposed-to-do-if-it's-all-the-same-to-you manner. So we made the 20 mile round trip to get another one. Alas, this was not as simple as it should have been, as C's bank card had been blocked by Barclays because C had the temerity to buy items from outside the U.K. Apparently that sets off the red light at Barclays HQ, the one that signifies that A TERRORIST MUST HAVE TAKEN OVER THIS ACCOUNT. Either that or they're rather xenophobic. Anyroad, C managed to swear enough to get them to unblock his account, he bought a new PS3 and back we trotted to his. It was only a couple of minutes after the new PS3 had been switched on that it too suffered the YLOD. The odds against this happening were somewhat slim. The odds against C's reaction were not.
But I managed to avoid being ended by wannabe albatrosses. One thing that was ended recently was C's PS3. He invited me around on Sunday, only to find out that his Playstation had developed a terminal condition known in the medical world as the YLOD (or yellow light of death in layman's terms). This is where the machine switches on with its green light indicating fucntionality resplendently and then changes its mind in an actually-I'd-rather-not-do-what-I'm-supposed-to-do-if-it's-all-the-same-to-you manner. So we made the 20 mile round trip to get another one. Alas, this was not as simple as it should have been, as C's bank card had been blocked by Barclays because C had the temerity to buy items from outside the U.K. Apparently that sets off the red light at Barclays HQ, the one that signifies that A TERRORIST MUST HAVE TAKEN OVER THIS ACCOUNT. Either that or they're rather xenophobic. Anyroad, C managed to swear enough to get them to unblock his account, he bought a new PS3 and back we trotted to his. It was only a couple of minutes after the new PS3 had been switched on that it too suffered the YLOD. The odds against this happening were somewhat slim. The odds against C's reaction were not.
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