Oh, arses.

I'm almost sorry that I had to return here. But it seems that whilst the move was going very nicely to begin with, it rapidly deteriorated as other events beyond my control began to hold sway.

So I'm stuck here again. "Piss".

We're currently holed up at http://sxgl.dyndns.org/ and so far are looking for new hosting. If you want to know what happened, pop by, have a look in announcements. It's a long fucking story. Argh.

The great movement has begun

Because my web connection and wordpress get along so badly, I am initiating the great movement. The Bloggle is moving to SXGL.org!

This will mean:

• No more shit with horrible response times
• Easier updates
• Less URLs to remember for you people (intellectual strain must be killing you)
• Easy one-click access between thingies like the site and the blog.
• Everything in one place.
• More web traffic for me, woo! (this is a bad thing, once it reaches monthly limits)
• Less haemorraging of the anus (no factual basis for this, but it's got to be true)

>>>Click Here<<< to visit The Bloggle's spangly new home.

Wake me when it ends

There are lots of examples of "horrible" to be found on the net, including enough fecal frolicking to turn even the blind a sickening shade of green. But frankly, I'd rather watch that than be put through this:

I hate these things. Like an animal introduced into an inappropriate ecosystem, advertisements have propagated over almost all kinds of media. (For reader benefit, Angry Kid was a less than interesting idea to have explored. Don't try at home) It seems that people behind ARPANET and the eventual birth of the world wide web didn't know at the time that we didn't want adverts. Otherwise, they would have stamped upon the faces of the people willing to slap advertisements in every available space on web pages.

But it's worse than that now, isn't it? Bored with the normal methods of advertisements people have learned to ignore during their browsing activities, they've invented ever more invasive forms of harassing us for attention. Cultprit one, as above is the in-line ad.

When you click on a link, the last thing you really want to sit through is an obligatory advert. Someone is sitting there enjoying the fact that people actually have to pay attention to the shit on their screen in order to get to what they want. Each advert is long enough to be aggravating, a good 30 seconds or so in this case. In what looks at first like an attempt to inform people it's safe to click on the ad, they've included a message saying "clicking on the advertisement will not affect download, links will open in a new window. This isn't actually reassuring you so much as subtley reminding you that any attempts to bypass the ad will have no effect whatsoever. Cheeky wankers.

Case two: the Alarming Audio Ads. Aptly named "AAA", these consist of flash animation banners injected crudely into frames at the side of pages. They're absolutely the most fucking annoying thing ever. Their current iteration is largely adverts for emoticons which nobody wants. In an attempt to grab attention of unwary surfers in 'disregarding-all-shit mode', the advert displays the face of a smiley you soon learn to hate, hands outstretched, *screaming* the words SAY SOMETHING!

This is not only a horrible shock for anyone who has the volume up at that point in time, but also something so unvaried and repetetive that you begin to become resentful to the little yellow face itself. I can't fucking stand those adverts. I can't express my irritation enough, either, without the aid of weapons of mass destruction, and perhaps a socket wrench. The current strongest contender for most aggrafuckingvating ads ever.

Seriously, you want to punch the face. You want to punch an emoticon, that's really how bad it is.

Somewhat less annoying are the ads for toys that don't make sense. Furbys are a brilliant example. Everyone had furbys, as far as I was aware, in their household. But in reflection…. why? What the hell does a furry blob with animated facial extensions offer anyone? Apart from a flammable treat, not much. It can talk to other Furbies. Occasionally it will wiggle and bitch that it's hungry. It moans if you turn it upside down. If you stroke it, it purrs in arousal. If you're intelligent enough (at the age these are targeted for, I doubt this) you can memorise a cornucopia of hand signals and patterns that can be used to play games. This results in an amusing watch for standers-by, who are witness to someone gesticulating furiously at a small fluffy blob.

In an attempt to realise this distinct lack of anything ground breaking, Hasbro (I assume they are behind this) rather than addressing the issue at hand, have simply distracted their customer base with an amazing new feature.

Can you tickle it's feet?

In the Quest for Regular Updates

It seems that as of lately I've had very little time for updating this delightful place, sitting lonely and forgotten in its little crook on the web. You can't blame me, really. Seriously; I've been way too busy. What the common member of society will fail to recognise is the intense mental power and effort the average student puts into doing absolutely fuck all.

I'm not even screwing with your head. The act of doing nought but the mediocre and mundane is remarkably tme consuming. I eat, walk about and speak at things, I sleep, and on occasion I will conjugate my arse with the seat of a toilet and relieve my body of various forms of waste. I might do that standing up, scenario permitting. It really doesn't matter; any forms of work aside, my free time seems to have diminished to proportions anorexic dust mites would be envious of.

The most interesting thing I did today, was probably, well, nothing. Ok, I'll take a step back here and admit that since it's 00:00 right… *now*, I am liable to be unable to think with the clarity and the concise approach I would normally partake in when remembering shit. But for all intensive purposes I've just about got up, done stuff and gone to sleep today. Some would say that is a pretty bad way to start off a "blog"-"comeback". I say, "Hellbent backwards injection moulded plastic leper limbs" to those concerned. Notice how I separate the words "blog" and "comeback". I dislike the word blog slightly. But you would of course already know that, because I've told you countless, countless times. Oh, the myriad occasions upon which I have said, "damnit, the word blog sucks ass". (oh look! I babble! Better move on.)

I am now considering the possibility of WordPress having another horrible "page cannot be displayed" conundrum. I'll back up this precious post, but when I was starting out the violent onset of fury from such a let down could cause breakage of wind so severe as to make vicars burst into tears (5 miles away).

This reminds me; I have a proposition for you all. Why not try farting in the direction of a lightweight object and seeing if your nausea inducing ass waves of doom will invoke motion in such inanimates? That is to say, if you fart on a piece of paper, can you blow it across a desk? Try hard, and don't follow through, damn you.

That's pretty much all I can squeeze out of my head for now. When more corticofluids invade I'll eject them again. Ideally that should be tomorrow! (I'm also full of bullshit morpheme concatenations tonight, for that I am most indefinitely sorry. That means I've been coming up with funny words from dark places in the corners of my brain. Yes: my brain has corners.)

Lightening plates rule

Looks like it’s time for another update. And here I sit once again, besotted with thoughts and confused as to what I should bang down for all to read. A lot has happened within the however-long it’s been since I could last be arsed to sit down for several minutes and come up with something. I reckon we’ll handle this by placing everything in a pseudo-orderly bullet-pointed list:

• Got the Logitechs
• My neighbours are alive and kicking. They always reside within the opposite side of their house to me, meaning all attempts to take their lives have fallen a few dozen metres short, literally. They then have the nerve to call me and complain that they can’t hear their TV. I was nearly charitable enough to recommend an excellent brand of headphones.
• Laptop fans still squeak ominously. I wanted to make them looser than a hooker’s hairy axe wound, almost so loose that they might drop off entirely, but to no avail. It seems I’ve been pissing around with WD40 and achieved nothing. Other than creating a startling analogy between computer repair and car maintenance. Maybe I should just smash it with a hammer; certainly having the last laugh then, fucking stupid fans.
• Obtained a new mobile phone, one Samsung SGH-720e. It’s great, but after two years of Nokia it feels stupid when under use. The sound quality is shit, as well. Makes up for these issues by looking swish and having lovely buttons, makes texting an enjoyable experience. That is, until you accidently quit the text without saving/delete everything you just wrote.
• Upgraded to 2mbps broadband. I have to say that’s one beast of an improvement over 512k, now I can pop over to http://podshow.com and whore all their music with exponentially improved speed. The internet slips down those wires as if they were made of 100% pure grease.
• *other random shit*
• *etc*
• *fast forward, fast forward…*
• Power cut. We had a disgustingly long power cut this last Wednesday. From 11 in the morning to 12:30 at night, or thereabouts, there was a violent lack of electron flow within the walls of my house. In fact, I had so little to do (read books? Stare at the wall?) that I decided to build my own power supply for running mains appliances when Powergen fucked up. (probably not with Powergen, I don’t remember). You’ll catch more details about this project upon the site later on, if I have time. But allow me to spoil it for you now: it’s simple and it works.
• Bought a lightening plate. During a trip to London I found a lightening plate for sale for twenty quid, so I snatched it. These things used to cost in the hundreds, and when I first saw one I was violently sick all over the counter. The vomit’s acidity was inversely proportional to how reasonable the price tag was, and as a result the member of staff caught by the flecks of lunch promptly disintegrated. Anyhow, this device is insanely cool, and I’ve hardly turned it off. In fact, it’s become a new nightlight, far more attractive than a desktop lamp and far less useful. A perfect combination, I might add.

I reckon that pretty much covers everything for now. Except for this: sxgl.org was hacked. Some turkish wanker, more details over there. The repair took all of five seconds, leading one to believe that the “cracker” (just to pay tribute to the hackers out there who resent their title being used by people who are a nuisance.) wasn’t planning on damaging anything. It’s still fucking annoying, though.

Want to kill your neighbours? Do it in style.

So I was wandering around the internet and musing over what would be an awesome product to grab next, and I happened to mosey across the Logitech Z-5500 Digital 5.1 surround sound system.

It instantly occured to me that I was onto something special.

I read the rated power – 505 watts, (that’s RMS, you fucks) with a peak of 1010, or 1000 if you like your round numbers. These speakers are beasts. They are, well, assrapingly great. I don’t think you’re going to find more bang for your buck, and that’s in a literal sense, because this 25-kilo kit of heatsink, rubber, metal and god knows what else delivers monsterous thump wherever you decide to use them. Tweakreviews.com said it actually “pissed off deaf people”.  A guy on NewEgg said he had to have his basement windows replaced, because they got blown out. This is fantastic news.

That’s not all – some people posted asking if it was safe to turn them up above half volume. I conclude, it is not safe. The sub alone can stop a pacemaker from within two feet, meaning all old people should stay well away from its ominous, polished, ported carapace. The magnets within it will also kill or damage anything electrical that’s worth more than £30, so beware of monitors and computers.

What about dimensions? Well, the loudness comes with a price, but in size and not money… the sub is meaty, and you want it that way. If you’re getting these, it’s not for discretion, certainly everyone in the neighbourhood will know soon enough…

So, back to the original topic, how to kill your neighbours? It’s come to my attention that 505/1010 watts is enough to rattle pictures off nearby walls, and ornaments off shelves. It will be easier to slay your neighbours with tunes if they’re old, or members of the local council, because everyone knows local council members die off fast. Mine are, incidentally, both. I reckon I’ll have them in ten minutes. Basically you can do one of two things, you can rely on the intense distress caused from everything falling over and the knowledge that perhaps they have heavy things on high shelves to cause heart attacks, or extreme trauma to the head. Or you can pick up the sub, and throw it at them. Or (this is a third, I know) you can play the Brown Noise loud enough to make them shit themselves to death, but you’re likely to be struck by the same ailment, possibly even worse due to being in the room with the actual speakers. Perhaps if you don’t like the idea of experiencing total anal-oriented bodily inversion the last idea should be struck off.

With zero distortion, a ten-inch driver housed in a ported cabinet AND ported satellite housing with polished aluminium phase plugs, the ability to kill people and likely piss off everyone within a quarter mile, these are DEFINITELY the speakers to get for a poxy $250. More expensive in England, sadly, but if you buy from NewEgg you get the extreme value. It’s extreme anyway, these rivalling systems costing a few thousand. That’s another selling point! Kill people… for less! And in style! What else could you want?

Don’t buy with your head, don’t think, just go and grab some, then crank them and set the cables in your wall on fire, or something.

For the sake of updating

I haven’t had anything to say in a little while now. I will update you with a friendly post about what’s changed:

I have stuck a plasma thing to my wall.

 

Marvel at how intensly detailed the above statement is, and how you can totally visualise the image it tries to paint in your head. It’s better than photographs, it is.

C.I.A. music

I thoroughly recommend you pop over to Cardinals In Arms and download yourself some of their tracks. They have found the interesting label Rimsplinter Records and are currently offering top-notch music such as the following titles:

Placenta Chainsaw

Corned Beef Flesh Lettuce

Lucifer’s Codpiece

Genital Origami

Snorting a Martian

Feels Just Like a Fist

And,

1 Year Pregnant With Poo

Quality music right there… recommended once again you download something and have your ears bleed.

Is my Internet all better?

I noticed upon pinging Google.co.uk that I’d occasionally get the message:

Error – xxx.xxx.xxx.50 google.co.uk destination host unreachable

 

Or something along those lines. The point is the IP address is not that of our server and so a bit of a dabble in its settings revealed the fact that it had taken it upon itself to add one of our routers as a secondary gateway in the network’s DCHP settings. So all the computers were crapping out occasionally trying to talk to this router, which was like “wtf you ass,”, which would explain so much. It’s now rectified and I shall be keeping an eye on timeouts to see if thing still screw up.

Today’s quotes, and miscellaneous amusings.

“That’s Sexy Sexy McSexfuck.”

“Dude I just got dumped for the best reason ever: ‘Because you’re a fucking nazi’”

“Lol”

First off, credit to DTMX for being called a nazi by a member of the opposite sex. This kind of thing can only be achieved by someone with the rare ability to show complete ineptitude in life itself and demonstrate almost unlimited idiocy at all times. I think the closest I came to this today was writing “poo” on a whiteboard with a pen I’d found upon the floor. It will be a while before I’m blessed with such a powerful title, it seems.

 

Having said that, I also picked up a CD and ran around in small circles screaming “CD!!!! CD!!!!”.

 

These kinds of things do not apply to nazis. Offhand, I also believe DTMX’s outstanding sexism could have also been a controlling aspect in reaching such a verdict. To conclude: Congratulations DTMX, you are a “fucking nazi”.