Archive for March, 2007

A facebook group chain…

Fyse March 23rd, 2007

The slightly sinister news feed on social networking site ‘facebook’ informs me that a friend of mine has just joined a new group called…

  • I love volunteering!

All very well and good. Laudable, even. In the related groups section…

  • Marks and Spencers food is the best food in the world

Ah, so that would be a decidedly middle class store selling expensive if delicious food. Interesting, and a complete coincidence I’m sure. In turn, this group is related to…

  • 1000 reasons why the south is better than the north.

The plot thickens. And next…

  • I went to a proper British boarding school.

Am I reading too much into this? Do the relationships between groups have so much to teach us about the world? An alternative route…

  • I love volunteering!
  • Dr Karl Kennedy: Master of the Universe
  • You know you’ve been in university too long when…
  • People who don’t sleep enough because they stay up late for no reason
  • If Wikipedia Says It, It Must Be True

I have just joined those last two groups.

Day after tomorrow…

Fyse March 19th, 2007

OK, this weather is officially mental. Half an hour ago it was snowing. Five minutes ago the sky was a blinding blue, sufficient for myself and a colleague to pause by a window and remark upon its hue. Then within thirty seconds of our conversation the sky was again completely white with snow. Now? The sun is shining and the sky completely clear.

On my way home form work I will be on the look out for fist-sized hailstones, rogue wolves on ships and that pretty one who ended up with Gyllenhaal.

Awesomeness overload…

The Floating Face March 10th, 2007

There is a large pile of assorted packaging dominating one corner of the office. Cardboard boxes of various sizes, plastic wrappings of assorted hues, and in the middle sits Fyse. From the opposite side of the room two colleagues eye him warily.

“I think he’s over stimulated, you know.”

“Yeah. Something very reminiscent of my five-year-old last Christmas. Too many presents and not enough time.”

Fyse makes a decision and reaches for the closest shiny electrical thing. He stabs at buttons and turns a few dials, ignoring entirely the fat and hugely helpful instruction manual. After a minute he stops, as if at a sudden noise, and grabs for another item.

“New phone and camera in one day. Dangerous.”

“Yeah. Bet you a fiver he has a break-down before lunch.”

Fyse is cackling to himself in a contended if slightly demented fashion, with technogical wonders clasped tightly in each hand. He puts the phone in his pocket before brandishing the camera and staring menacingly across the room. It’s kinda like that bit from ‘Terminator’. You know, the bit where Arnie stares menacingly.

“Fyse, don’t even think about pointing that at us. Seriously. Er, Fyse?”

Fyse hasn’t had a lot of luck with online orders of late. Having spent the best part of three weeks bouncing off the walls before his laptop arrived, complications of the most infuriating nature delayed the delivery of his new digital camera. He didn’t deal with this in most decorous manner (as Amazon customer services operators will testify), but the waiting is finally over. As chance would have it this also coincided with delivery of a new mobile phone. Fyse is something of a gadget freak at the best of times, and no one knows what effect such a concentrated burst of silicon-powered AWESOMEness might have. The world retreats to a safe distance…

Confessions of a gadget addict…

Fyse March 7th, 2007

You know you’ve spent too much money on a new camera when you are woken in the morning by a call from Barclay’s fraud prevention team, checking whether your card has been stolen.

“Mr Fyson, did you make a purchase yesterday evening from Amazon.co.uk?”

“Yes, alright, I confess. I did it. I spent the money. Are you happy now you’ve made me face the truth? Is this what you do for kicks? I hope you’re really pleased with yourself.”

But was it worth it? Well, it arrives first thing tomorrow morning.

It will blatantly be worth every penny.