Cool Air

It’s 7:22am and I’m in at the office trying to figure out what the heck is happening with one of our clients (I’ve managed to track it down to a problem with the mail server). But that’s not what I’m here to write about, I’m here to write about the totally insane bus ride I just had getting here.

When I come into work early I catch the first number 97 bus of the day, which leaves Subiaco railway station at 7:00am – at this time of year just before sunrise. It was particularly chilly last night, and by the time the bus arrived even I (who generally prefers the cold) was looking forwards to getting inside where it would be a bit warmer. So I step into the bus and BLAM!! Struck down by a blast of icy cold from the air-conditioning. It was colder inside the bus than out!

Now when I say it was cold in that bus, I mean cold. Not cold like a chilly morning, cold like the air that comes rushing out when you open your freezer. Everyone flinched getting on, and a few muttered about it quite loudly under their breath, but the driver (who may well have been named Dr MuΓ±oz) completely ignored them. He set off with the air-con still on full blast – it was like travelling in the back of a refrigerated goods van.

OK, I’ve just checked a weather site which suggests that the temperature at 7:00am was about 4C. Which means inside the bus it must have been down around freezing.

Now I don’t expect bus drivers to be the most sane of people, but c’mon! That’s just ridiculous!

I Have a Cave Troll

I’ve decided that I have D.I.Y. Stigmata. Not “Do It Yourself” in the sense that I gouge holes in my hands and feet every Easter and run around shouting “Miracle! Miracle!” until I collapse from blood loss, but in the sense that any time I do anything even remotely handyman oriented I end up with bloody cuts gouged into my hands and fingers that I can’t remember inflicting! I mean if you tear a large strip of skin off the base of a fingernail you’d think you’d notice, right? Not carry on blissfully sawing or nailing until you notice the blood everywhere. But no! Not me!

So I figure these mysterious cuts have to be hardware engendered stigamata of some kind. I start doing some woodwork, and spontaneous bleeding wounds open up all over my hands. Probably that dratted gypsy curse again. Hmmm, I should probably write to Fortean Times about it or something.

Actually talking of Fortean Times there was a report I found particularly amusing in this month’s issue (that is to say the May issue, it takes a while to get out here). Well actually there were a few (like the archeologists in Fife who carefully excavated part of a ‘Viking settlement’ only to discover it was a 1940’s era sunken patio and the great deal of excitement over an ‘alien antenna’ deep under the south Atlantic that turned out to be a sponge) but this one was a real stand out. I quote…

In Colorado, Betty Parker spied on her neighbour, Gary Clowes for weeks, convinced he was conducting rituals. She saw people dressed in “robes of the devil” sacrifice animals and heard them utter unintelligible chants. Betty then pursuaded members of her church to break into the Clowes home with crosses, stakes and prayer books only to find a dramatic group rehearsing Shakespeare’s Julius Caeser. Unfazed, Betty still insists they were “the children of Satan”.

Well, I suppose they could have been a satanic dramatic group, but still πŸ˜€

Actually it reminds me of a similar story dating from the SRA panic in the UK some years back. A woman accused her neighbour of being a satanist after seeing “strange black robes” and an “inverted cross” through his window and hearing “strange occult music” coming from his house. These turned out to be (in order)…

  1. Ecclesiastical garments, her neighbour being the local vicar
  2. A kite hanging on a coat hook
  3. Holst’s Planets Suite

Honestly! πŸ™‚

Anyway what I’ve been doing handyman-wise is cutting up some sheets of particle board (I’d do my particle board/Particle Man gag here, except I think I did it the last time I mentioned particle board so now it’d just be old). This is in aim of two projects. The first is making a Labarat board – Labarat being a chess like game I’ve invented for my entirely fictional Zurvár language/culture (hey, do I give you grief about your weird hobbies? πŸ™‚ Anyway I’ve made the pieces, now I just need a board to play it on. I figure I’d better actually try a few games before publishing the rules on the Zurvár section of the site – you know, to make sure it actually works. Anyway more news on that when I get the board all painted up (which will take a while).

The second project is a display piece for my Lord of the Rings models. This was inspired by the quite remarkable model of Helms Deep (or more accurately the Hornburg – Helms Deep is the valley, the Hornburg is the fortress – just poke me with a stick if I’m boring you πŸ™‚ the guys at Games Workshop put together as a gaming table. I was planning to do them one better and build my own version that’s more accurate to the novels, but after much messing around with rulers, calculators and Karen Wynn Fonstad’s Atlas of Middle Earth (an excellent book for the Tolkien Fanatic in your life – although try and find an older edition before she went slightly nutty and started including all the stuff from the History of Middle Earth series) I realised that this would require a board at least twice as big as the one I had (not to mention the fact that storing it would be a nightmare). So I scaled my plans down to building part of the fortress, and then scaled them down further when I realised how much work even that would take. So now I’m just going to model the main gate and some of the battlements on a reasonably sized base which will provide a convenient place to stick what models I actually get around to finishing.

On that point I decided to splash out and buy myself another large model (after the one of Sauron Ryan got me for my birthday – which is assembled and undercoated but not painted yet). So I got a cave troll (with spear). He’s all built and looking not bad so far, although the painting is going to take a while. I’ve made a few customisations to him too – mainly because I have a habit of mixing up too much green stuff when filling gaps. So we’ll see how that turns out (not well probably πŸ™‚

I bought said troll on Thursday, which I took off work to go and pay for my plane tickets. Because I forgot that the banks don’t open until 10:00 these days (lazy so-and-so’s) I had an hour to kill over at Morley, so I got my hair cut. I got a somewhat different cut this time around (being sick of looking like some throwback to the sixties), a fairly short short back and sides. It doesn’t look good, but it doesn’t look any worse than usual either so I count that as a win. I may get it cut again before going to the UK, or I may just let it grow out. I haven’t decided yet πŸ™‚

Anyway I eventually got enough money from the bank to go and pay for my tickets, so my plane seat is booked! Scary stuff !

Ummm, was there anything else I was going to mention? Almost certainly. I suppose I could comment on the death of Ray Charles, which I was going to do when he actually died but didn’t have the energy. Ummmm, well it sucks that he’s dead, obviously. And the weird thing is I can’t get used to the idea that he is dead. He always seemed like such a remarkably alive person somehow – for him to be dead just seems ridiculous. Bah πŸ™

I guess I’ll sign off with some more songs that have been catching my attention lately, since I still haven’t fixed the music section. Let’s see…

  1. Ready to Wear – Felix da Housecat
  2. Hair – Lazaro’s Dog
  3. Take me to the Hospital – The Faint
  4. Nearer than Heaven – The Delays
  5. Wicked and Weird – Buck 69
  6. Lifting the Veil from the Braile – The Dissociatives
  7. Passing of Peace – Catalyst (Coolism Remix)
  8. I Love Total Destruction (Soldier in Love) – The Nectarine Number 9
  9. Mass Destruction – Faithless

OK, I’m done. Go and make your own entertainment!

PS: What? I missed international kissing day?! There was an international kissing day and I WASN’T INFORMED!?! (need I point out that all the preceding should be read in tone of extreme sarcasm? πŸ™‚

PPS: Kevin Sorbo?!?!? I’m sorry Mark but it’s definitely time for an intervention!

PPPS: I should obviously read Ali’s blog more often πŸ™‚

PPPPS: Get well soon Rebecca!

A break from all the deranged screeding :)

As observant readers may have noticed I’ve made a few changes around the place over the last few days. For instance rather than just redirecting to Space Net, is now a domain in it’s own right (finally). Which explains why the page you’re reading with your grape-like eyes now has a URL of No more frames or redirects or other stupidity, hooray!! πŸ™‚

This sudden change is down to the fact that I finally got around to getting the server guys to set me up some webspace on the company server. Free, quota unlimited company webspace! Hmmm, I suppose I’ve really got a good reason not to get fired now huh? Well, as opposed to not getting paid any more obviously.

In any case over the coming weeks Wyrmworld will gradually migrate it’s way over to the new address, leaving nothing but a horde of redirect pages and dead links over on Space Net. Then after a while I can look at dumping them completely and getting an ADSL account with someone else – if I decide that it’s worthwhile that is, which it probably will be.

Oh, and of course I’ll be setting up some new email accounts (probably this week) then dropping my old spam riddled email like a gun. I’ll also be doing my best to keep my new address completely off the web – thus avoiding the spam issue completely. I hope πŸ™‚

Anyway I’ve also been making some changes to the Wyrmlog itself, as can be seen by the large white boxes down there. Inspired by something I saw on someone else’s blog (sadly I can’t remember who or I’d give them full credit) I’ve set up some funky looking styles for quoting with.

For instance, if I wanted to quote from a book I’d use my new quoteBook style. Let’s say for the sake of argument I was quoting Steven Pile’s Book of Heroic Failures I would do it thusly…

Few broadcasters have given more unalloyed pleasure than Lieutenant Commander Tommy Woodroofe. He leapt to public prominence with his now famous commentary on the illumination of the fleet at Spithead in 1937.

Before the broadcast the Commander had joined in celebrations with slightly too much enthusiasm. The result was an exquisitely incoherent talk punctuated by pauses of anything up to eleven seconds.

And were I to quote the good Commander himself I’d use the quoteQuote style (for quoting things people actually said)…

At the present moment, the whole fleet is lit up. When I say ‘lit up’ I mean lit up by fairy lamps. It’s fantastic. It isn’t a fleet at all. It’s just… It’s fairyland. The whole fleet is in fairyland. Now if you’ll follow me through … if you don’t mind … the next few moments you’ll find the fleet doing odd things.

[lengthy pause]

I’m sorry I was telling some people to shut up talking.

[The fleet turn off their lights to shoot rockets]

It’s gone! It’s gone! There’s no fleet! It’s… It’s disappeared! No magician who could ever have waved his wand could have waved it with more acumen than he has now at the present moment. The fleet’s gone. It’s disappeared.


I was talking to you in the middle of this damn [cough] in the middle of this fleet and what’s happened is the fleet’s gone and disappeared and gone…

ANNOUNCER: That is the end of the Spithead Commentary.

[Half hour of unscheduled dance music]

Or maybe I wanted to quote a website, then quoteWeb would be employed…

When the English ships full of troops were in sight, a foppish tart by the name of Paul Revere rode through all the towns screaming at the top of his lungs until he was arrested by the constable for disturbing the peace, and is remembered by the Beastie Boys song of the same name.

If the web was a Blog, then of course quoteBlog would be appropriate…

I can’t really think of anything to blog about, it’s not like I’ve been doing anything exciting. Maybe I should do something exciting. I can’t even think of anything exciting to do though, can’t be bothered, oh well, I’ll stick with the apathay and general laying around playing on the computer.


Lyrics have the special quoteMusic class…

Arrivederciby Shivaree

Arrivederci I’m cutting my hair,
Tell Fish and Tracy the weather’s fair,
Been eleven hours we’re on a dare,
Arrivederci to my old chair,

I’ve been told that the old who bargain and save,
They get sold for the gold on the little kings grave,
So goodbye to screamers and goodnight Irene,
A salty whisker won’t hurt anything,

…and so on and so on. Obviously I’ve gotten way too carried away with this, but what’s new? πŸ™‚

Next on the agenda is getting those pop-up comments to work again. I’m trying to think of a new and funky way to do this that doesn’t rely on opening new windows and such – ideally a tooltip kind of thing. I’ve got a few ideas but need to develop them fully.

Then I guess I’ll come up with a nicely styled replacement for the old music and reading sections. Oh, and the links to other people’s blogs I suppose which should really be a much higher priority because after all they’re linking to me aren’t they? Or they were last time I checked.

Hmmm, never ends does it?

Oh well, back to transcribing the deranged Foxtel related ravings of that guy on the train I guess…

Actually hang on, I must mention a great link Stephanie put me onto. It’s a page that displays the last 30 images uploaded to liveJournal…

It’s a magical gateway into the human peepshow that is the web! πŸ™‚

(It should be noted that people upload all sorts of stuff onto liveJournal, including porn and – even worse – 30 meg digital photos of inane things like sports cars and 1930’s telephones that hog your bandwidth to the exclusion of everything else until they’ve fully downloaded – so be warned! πŸ™‚

OK, really going now.

Continued Dispatches from the ‘Insane Screed Department’

“An Open Letter to Rupert Murdoch” by “A____”: PART TWO


“You will go to jail for everything you’re putting me thru (sic). When your ‘superiors’ find out (and I know you have superiors) you’ll regret putting me thru all this. How long do you think these ‘participants’ will go along with this, once they realise that I actually really do get held down and needles stuck in me? That actors taunt me to a point of breaking, over and over? Then they’ll realise I get antisocial for a reason. You can’t fool people forever that this ‘program’ is justified. I will get out. Even with all the bad ‘footage’ of me. How long do you think that will delay you going to jail? And I’m telling you, ‘you will go to jail‘. You’ve used and abused me way too much, for too long. Do you think it’s too late to ‘arrange’ an unfortunate ‘accident’ for me? You can still ‘arange’ it right? One small problem. Now that I am so close to seeing my children for the very first time. That I am so close to starting a genuine life. Do you think anyone could possibly believe that I’d ever harm myself? I don’t think so. This ‘program’ is about to end. Whatever happens it’s because you ‘arrange’ it all, or let it happen. You will all go to jail you absolute m_____f_____g c___s”

‘Actors taunt me to the point of breaking over and over’ – must have been watching Two and Half Men. Part three coming as soon as my eyes recover from reading all that tiny, tiny, tiny printing!

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