Raral Charms a Belly

Naught: Thus his forking tore true rorqual pillages an shields, sue pleas drink a long you valknut shores…

This cap do they hart of don Belly ease voutry-sidhe an axe implore bee artiful rake fjords, nod enjoin an train quality of Gulingigo Parish. Taque on sir sounding chew off non-split royal Belly nor of you like, tray tour hard net fashion on are well stoked with frond. Nor of true perfect, treat a calf our volk down hull true they pace fjords nor and steam and black ute a fiderant hole, grue gogo naut parma, khaffee, vonilla and cleave plan sensations. Via sit on Belly’s fascia, hating tread notional harm compost rounds. Whifren tar sussurating voles! Thistled aroon I caught ya, too will sea civet all bad moons, a trample and nor cerement all flat form. Aught the pillage! Joonie downs a bath bowdlering wish pontoony fore ratchet het race shields. Ones their relapse Belly knees tile, in out brad typical botched hoof papilion pelt own Woden tilts wark a blam boo bloor! (tre papilion as four treks lucid yous by dour ease diets). It’s sata amon guest pickaxe terrain rice paddles. Hospital lacuna good yaw on pap airing autistic belly knees cousin!

Wokka Wokka

Halloween, Cruises and Golf

It was Halloween last week wasn’t it? I didn’t do anything, or at least didn’t do anything Halloweeny. I actually went up to the Maze in Bullsbrook with Fabes and Paula and (among other things) played mini-golf (I came last :)). There are photos up on my Flickr stream if anyone’s interested (not of the golf though).

We actually did a fair bit of other stuff as well.  We had lunch at an excellent kebab place, looked at a whole lot of Fabe’s photos from his trip to Switzerland, and had dinner at the newly opened Kingsway Tavern. I had the garlic prawns which were astonishingly good. Outstandingly good in fact. I think I could live on that sauce.

Then I got stuck at Stirling railway station on the way home, having got off the train with the expectation that the circle route buses would still be running – which they weren’t, meaning I had to wait half an hour for the next train. While waiting I did help out a couple of Danish tourists though, who borrowed my phone to call a taxi. They wanted to pay me, but I refused, so instead they made me promise to visit the Roskilde festival.

Did I mention that I’m going on a cruise? I’ve booked for a 14 night (I think it’s 14 night… I’ll have to check) cruise to New Zealand early in 2012, on the basis that I should at least try and have some fun before the world ends *grin*. I’ll be travelling steerage in the bowels of the Diamond Princess from Sydney to Auckland, taking in Melbourne, Hobart, the South Island and points in between. Should be a laugh. I’ll book in some time to do some sight seeing at both ends.

Finally, I’ve made another update to the FreakAngels Google Earth map. Enjoy!

Notes

Wandering the Mojave

Some notes concerning Fallout: New Vegas

1: The first time I saw a Bighorner my reaction was pretty much the same as 40 seconds into this video.
2: I am most pleased that they’ve made an effort to have Caesar’s Legion speaking with classical pronunciation.
3: Blackrock Radio is hilarious!
4: Most amusing bug – I dropped some armour and it went shooting off across the floor at high speed. If I’d been outside I would have had to chase it across the desert to get it back.
5: Most annoying bug – the Monorail. The bloody monorail. You know what I’m talking about.

From the Historical to the Stupid

I’m in a moat?

I’m on a goat m**********r take a look at me!
Straight riding on a goat, that’s spelt g-o-a-t!
You know it’s real ’cause my ride is chewing on my coat!
You can’t stop me m**********r ’cause I’m on a goat!

I’m on a goat and, it’s going fast and,
It ate my nautical themed pashmina afghan!

I can’t write any more of this god-damned drivel! Good night!! ;D

Most Impressive Train

There are only so many things that rhyme with “train”

London. 1850. Three gentlemen sit in their club, reading the Times. As Lord Wallace turns the page, a small piece of paper falls into his lap.

Lord Wallace: By jove! A train ticket for three! Now, who shall accompany me?

His companions look hopeful.

Lord Wallace: Sir George!

Sir George: Yes!

Lord Wallace: And…..

Lord Peters smiles expectantly

Lord Wallace: Isambard Kingdom Brunel!

Pan to Isambard Kingdom Brunel who is leaning nonchalantly against the wall wearing a stovepipe hat and smoking a large cigar. He removes the cigar momentarily

Brunel: Most agreeable.

Cut to a Steam Train as the music begins…

Indeed!
Have your tickets ready for we’re about to depart!
Every gentleman assemble on the platform!
And be sure to stay on your toes
We’re steaming up! Let us go!

I’m on a train!
I’m on a train!
Everybody look at me for I’m riding on a train!
I’m on a train!
I’m on a train!
Take a good hard look at the most impressive train!

I’m on a train you blighter listen to my tale!
Straight riding on a train on an iron rail,
Twenty miles to the hour messing with my brain,
You can’t stop me you bounder for I’m on a train!

Make a sketch quick, I’m on a train kick,
We’re drinking workers’ ale because it’s so thick,
I’ve got my timetable, for I’m railway savvy,
While you’re sailing the canals like a common navvy,

I’m stoking the engine, shovelling coal supplies,
The stack is smoking, throwing ash in everyone’s eyes,
But no one minds sir, for this is fast as it gets,
I’m on a train sir, don’t you ever forget!

I’m on a train sir! It’s going fast sir!
The economic potential of this is vast sir!
I’m racing along just like Stephenson’s Rocket,
With a wad of Great Western shares riding in my pocket!

Pay attention now! For this train is real!

No barge! I’m on a train you dirty bounder!
No horse! I ride rails you dirty bounder!
I’m on the engine with my fellows, dirty bounder!
This engine sounds like a bellows, dirty bounder!

Yes sir! If you could see me now!
My arms spread wide like a captured cow,
Going to take this train to France somehow,
Why not a tunnel? Anything is possible!

Brunel:
Never thought I’d be on a train,
The horsepower of this engine’s insane,
James Watt, take a look at me,
Never thought I’d see the day,
When a big train was steaming my way,
Believe me when I say, these tracks are broad-gauge!

I’m on a train!
I’m on a train!
Everybody look at me for I’m riding on a train!
I’m on a train!
I’m on a train!
Take a good hard look at the most impressive train!

On the Lighter Side

Clench!

I always thought it would be amusing to draw a picture of Thomas Covenant jumping wildly up and down in baggy pants with brightly dyed hair, waving glowsticks in the air, while a confused and frighted Lord of Revelstone asks “Lord Covenant, do you rave?!”

C’mon! It’s as least as funny as Clench Racing!

What Happens in Vegas

Damn Powder Gangers…

There’ve been no new posts for a while, mainly because I installed Fallout: New Vegas over the weekend and have been playing a fair bit of it (also the hot tap in the bathroom finally completely failed, meaning I have a choice of hot water everywhere, or no hot water at all – a plumber’s coming around tomorrow).

So far the game has failed to grip me in the way that Fallout 3 did. I think this is mainly because there are so many differences and new features that I’m finding it all a bit confusing. But it’s starting to grow on me. For the time being I’m mostly just flailing around Goodsprings, getting a grip on everything. Once I get used to it all I’ll probably start over with a new character.

And what about the famous bugs? So far I’ve only come across three. Sunny Smiles occasionally doing the moonwalk, my gun dropping out of frame once, and some severe image stuttering in combat. I’ve lowered the image settings a bit to try and deal with that last one, so we’ll see how we go.

I’ve had a reprieve from the whole shirts issue as some very geeky ones I ordered from Cafe Press have arrived. I can now proudly masquerade a member of Vault Tec Security, the Brotherhood of Steel or the Brotherhood Outcasts. Excellent!

Ringing in My Head

The Swedish Electropop Lyrical Massacree

In my oh-so-inflated opinion one of the best songs (not to mention video clips) of the last few years was Det Snurrar i min Skalle by Swedish electro-popsters Familjen. It’s a great track with only one problem – it’s in Swedish.

(Or more accurately, a dialect of Swedish the name of which temporarily escapes me..)

Now this isn’t really a problem. The song is what it is and works wonderfully even if monolingual ignoramuses such as myself can’t understand the words. But what if we want to sing along? Or for that matter simply want to know what the song is about?

Sure, you can look up a translation, but a straight translation of lyrics is never very inspiring. There’s no meter, there’s no rhyme and there’s bound to be some odd turns of phrase that sound fine in the original but are just weird when dragged kicking and screaming into another language. What you need is a more nuanced translation that takes the meaning of the lyrics and whacks it into something that would pass muster as a lyric in the new language. So where can you find such a thing for Det Snurrar i min Skalle? Well as far as I could figure out, nowhere. So I wrote my own.

This kind of work is always subjective. The translator (ie: me) has to try and balance their best guess at what the writer was trying to say with the needs of meter, rhyme and rhythm. The lyrics below  are about 75%-80% accurate to my interpretation of the translations that I’ve come across, which isn’t too bad for a Sunday afternoon.

So, enjoy…

Ringing in My Head
(A probably fairly dodgy translation of Familjen’s Det Snurrar i min Skalle)

I, caught a little fire from you,
And now through my head it’s burning,
I, know what you’re about to do,
And it feels like the first time,

Let’s, show the world it’s you and me,
We’ll run to where they can’t find,
They, know that this was meant to be,
Can’t you hear them singing?

Just, as if it always had been planned,
Just like how the earth keeps spinning,
How, could you ever choose another’s hand?
You couldn’t, that’s the glory,

You, fill my head to overflow,
And I’m here to tell that story,
More, than I thought I’d ever know,
Inside my head it’s ringing,

I, caught a little fire from you,
And now through my head it’s burning,
I, know what you’re about to do,
And it feels like the first time,

Let’s, show the world it’s you and me,
We’ll run to where they can’t find,
They, know that this was meant to be,
Can’t you hear them singing?

Yeah, can’t you hear them singing?
Yeah, can’t you hear them singing?
Can’t you hear them singing?
Can’t you hear them singing?
Can’t you hear them singing?
Can’t you hear them singing?

Coinage

Silver coin allergy – am I a werewolf?

(Note: As will become clear in this post I am perfectly aware that Australian ‘silver’ coins contain absolutely no silver, instead being made of a cupronickle alloy. I shall nonetheless refer to them as such, as is standard colloquial usage…)

Over the last week or so I’ve started on my yearly change clean out.This is where I gather up all the silver coins I’ve been hoarding, sort and count them and run them down to the bank. Yesterday I deposited $150 in fifty cent pieces, today I’ve sorted a further $100 in fifties and twenties, and there’s still at least another $100 in tens and fives to go.

“How do I accumulate so much change?” you may well ask. Well it comes down to one of my many strange habits, that of never actually spending any silver. Every morning before heading out into the world I grab a handful of notes I judge sufficient to cover any expenses  I may run into, and throw in a few one and two dollar coins as backup (I do not carry a wallet, another of my strange habits). At the end of the day I empty my pockets of all cash, before repeating the process the following morning.

The quick witted reader will realise that this system will inevitably bring in silver coins while never taking them out, with the result that after a year or so I have several hundred dollars in silver change clogging up the place. So I put some time aside to gather it all together (it ends up in various places around the apartment), count, sort and deposit it, giving my bank account a nice jab in the arm in the process.

The down side of this system (apart from having piles of change all around the place, and the lost ‘opportunity cost’ of not earning interest on it all) is that I have to handle all the coins. And that triggers my own unique variation of nickle allery.

The standard symptom of nickle allergy is contact dermatitis – an itchy or even blistering rash where the metal has touched the skin. I don’t get this. I can handle nickle all day without my skin so much as turning even a slight shade of red. What I do get however is a burning sensation in my finger tips, a headache, and nausea, which means I have to limit my sorting to about ten minutes at a time, several hours apart.

Or I suppose I could use gloves. But then another one of my weird habits is a severe dislike of wearing gloves. You can see how doubly screwed I am here 😀

So I shall continue my coin sorting for the next few weeks, and end up a little the richer, and a little the sicker for it.

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