Author: Purple Wyrm

Baby, I’m Getting Better

I could leave my room, my cocoon, find the door and walk out to the sun

Well, after a couple of months of extreme stress at work, egg-induced illness over the weekend, the general hurly-burly of Easter and the circadian disruption of getting up insanely early for the ANZAC dawn service yesterday, I’m actually starting to feel human again. By this time tomorrow I might actually be up to doing useful things, rather than creeping around muttering “things, things, yes, we must do things, so many things to do” like Gollum ;D

In the meantime here are a couple of fantastic mini documentaries I’ve been meaning to promote for ages. They’re both about the urban development of London and – no! Wait! Don’t leave! They’re very entertaining! Honest!

If you doubt my recomendation (and if so, what the hell is your problem? ;)) just watch the second one, which is more polished and contains a good deal more surrealism. But honestly, you should watch them both, ideally in order.

Enjoy!

Revenge of the Eggs

The chickens are restless

Happy Belated Easter to all!

I’ve been having problems with my computer, my phone and my health this weekend (ironically I ate some bad eggs at the Galleria on Saturday – spent much of the last two days semi-comatose) which means I haven’t been able to get emails or SMS’s out to everyone – but rest assured you’ve all been in my thoughts and I should be in touch soon.

In the meantime here’s something to keep you all entertained.

Tales from the Train

Riding the rails

This story isn’t mine. I don’t even know if it’s true. I simply overheard it on the train the other day, and it’s so good that I had to share it.

So there’s thig guy who’s a grafitti bomber, or whatever they call themselves nowadays (damn young people). He and some of his fellow bombers have snuck into the railyards in Welshpool and have been spraying up some carriages on a freight train. One of their mates arrives late and brings McDonalds with him, so they all settle down on top of a carriage to eat.

The train starts.

The guy telling the story bails. He lands face first in the gravel by the side of the track and pulls himself to his feet, yelling for his mates to jump off. Half of them are too scared to leap, and the others are having too much fun. He runs alongside the train until it outpaces him, and his mates ride off into the distance. With nothing else to do  he heads home.

Six hours later he gets a phone call. It’s from his mates. The train didn’t stop or even slow down until it reached the goldfields and they’re now stuck in Kalgoorlie with no way home and nothing but the clothes on their backs, the keys to their cars (550km behind them) and the handful of change they had in their collective pockets…

There’s any number of reasons why that’s probably not true, but God damn I hope it is 😀

Make a daft noise for Easter

Penitet me.

Vide equus meus. Mirum est equum! Degustabis equus meus…

Sicut fructus uva passa gustat!

Quam cum iubis fit equum demulceri volatilis apparatus. Transfiguration Et vice versa cum trahitur phallus!

Obscena quod!

Ita putas? Non ego te certiorem unde fetus facta est sucus. Sucis dulcus. Sucis dulcus. Sucis dulcus. Sucis dulcus!

Adepto in equum et ducam per totum mundum et ceteris omnibus!

Corrigendus est me vobis. Totum continetur totius mundi…

Mulier taceat! Adepto in meus equum!

Red Herring

They’re quite good at making chicken.

Over the weekend, in a spirit of scientific enquiry (and because I didn’t feel like cooking and equally didn’t feel like having chicken) I decided to check out Red Rooster’s recently added fish and chips menu.

In order to provide a valid assessment I decided to have the fisherman’s basket, which includes a little bit of everything. My findings were as follows…

Chips: The chips were, as always, excellent. 10/10

Salt and Pepper Squid: The salt and pepper squid was distinctly lacklustre. The coating was stale, floury and tasteless and the squid was oily and soft. 4/10

Prawns: The prawns were passable – there’s not much you can do to harm a prawn – but nothing really special. 5/10

Fish: The fish was pretty bad. Well, actually the fish was OK, it was the batter that was problematic. I’m not sure exactly what it tasted of – if I had to hazard a guess I’d say chipboard – and it was quite hard to chew through, which is not a quality you really want in food. Minus the batter the fish was about the quality you’d get at the average fish and chip place, which is to say passable but a bit oily – not anything you’d go out of your way to recommend. 3/10

So, my considered opinion on Red Rooster’s move into fish and chips? They’re quite good at making chicken.

Westfail

Weighted Companion Cubes

So, Westfield are setting up a “virtual shopping mall”, featuring all the stores present in their physical shopping centres.

Or at least the ones willing to pay even more than they’re already gouged for to obtain a “virtual lease”.

So they can be on an e-commerce site. On top of the e-commerce sites they almost certainly already have.

Oh, and they’ll pay a commission back to Westfield on all sales.

Sounds a lot like the “virtual shopping malls” that did so well in the late 90’s. Remember them?

Thought not.

I mean I’m not saying it won’t work.

I’m just saying it probably won’t.

Prove me wrong Westfield dudes!

50 Years!

Here’s to another 50!

In a sane world today would a day of global celebration. Parades, parties, fireworks and balloons. But instead it’s just another ordinary weekday for the ordinary, dull, citizens of this dirtball who daren’t look up and see the stars but belch instead…

Fifty years ago today, for the first time in our species’ two million year existence, one of us left our home planet. That’s amazing – yet the majority are content to sit around on their arses trading opinions on how we never went to the moon, the space program was a hoax, and aliens are abducting people and sticking probes up their nethers.

Well I’m celebrating damnit! Happy Yuri’s Night to you all!

Saint Anger

Hahahahah! Eat me Lars!

Saint Anger was the angriest of all the Saints,
Much angrier than Saint Francis of Assisi,
Or Saint Cuthbert the Kind,
Saint Anger used to steal the other Saints’ Bibles,
And punch little children in the face,
And when they cried he didn’t mind…

I didn’t write that. It’s from a song called Saint Anger which predates Metallica’s rather dismal work of the same name by several decades. The thing is, I only know that much of it and have no idea who sang it, and it doesn’t seem to exist on the internet at all. So I’m putting it here, lest the tale of Saint Anger vanish completely from the world.

Close Bitnami banner
Bitnami