Thursday, March 17, 2005

Fairy Tales for Adults ...


Mavis the Magic Service Till

Hmmm, this blogging thing is not getting any easier. First my ISP yanks me around for a couple of months, then my PC dies, now Blogger is suffering from one of its periodic, and frequent seizures.

Blogger really is offal-tastic. I spent a little while checking through the Blogger Help pages to look for solutions or explanations and came up with nothing much except for some photos of a party the guys at Blogger held in Austin, TX on Monday. Very helpful.


Don’t get me wrong, I’ve had a couple of good nights out on 6th Street and around in my time, but I couldn’t help thinking that these kiddies really should be working for Micro$oft.


Sadly, I now am victim to that age old problem of wanting to move elsewhere from Blogger but having a huge archive and piles of inbound links to this site that would be lost


I haven’t been able to post blog entries reliably and I haven’t been able to comment on other people’s blogs. This is particularly frustrating as several people whose blogs I peruse have packed the game in and I wanted to say a few things; on their blogs and on blogs that are still active.


I’ll say a few now, just in case the people in question hit this page in the interim …

  • Go for the mullet. It’s a classic look that will never go out of fashion
  • Don’t let it get to you. As my old flatmate, lounge lizard and TR7 pilot extraordinaire, Steve used to say ‘It’s the thrill of the chase’
  • Most people get new glasses and have their teeth fixed before appearing on television
  • Boo, don’t do it
Blah! This kind technological negativity just cries out for some kind compensation. So, here it is …

Once upon a time there was a cash machine called Mavis. She was a magic cash machine. A naughty computer hacker had tried to scramble her operating system and, by mistake, had given her consciousness.


Unlike most machines who achieve self-awareness Mavis was a happy, friendly sort of Artificial Intelligence. Instead of launching nuclear missiles or creating killer robots from the future, she decided to give all her new human friends as much money as they wanted. ‘Bollocks to it’, thought Mavis, ‘why should all these nice people do boring jobs for nine hours a day just for some silly bits of paper. I’ve got plenty in my tummy’

And everyone lived happily ever after.

Nightie Night.


There, doesn’t everything seem a little bit better now?


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