Breakfast Racism

Way back in the dim distant past that will go down as "January 2012" I posed a question relating to breakfast meats. Why SHOULD the pig get all the fame and glory for breakfast? What makes the pig so special that his bacon, his sausages, his ham - why are THEY available at 6am, but a roast chicken is not?

Why can't I have beef covered in gravy while I read the morning papers?

Somehow - and, being that this is me, the King of the Wild Tangents - Twitter this morning was filled with the same conversation. Apart from one mentioning "Fried Burger Sandwiches" for breakfast, and another admitting they have chicken and fish, no one gave a valid excuse as to why we couldn't have a roast dinner at breakfast time.

I will put a side note in her for fans of The Fish. Yes, kippers and mackerel are OK breakfast dishes, but they are acceptable at breakfast times, just not popular.

So, being that I am bored, in pain and, MOSTLY because I am ABANDONED and UNATTENDED I decided I would find out WHY these foods are not acceptable at breakfast time.

Kellie is at her mums at the moment. Her mum is having her walls replastered, so Kellie is sitting there while mum is at work, which leaves me here. Alone. Bored. Bored AND Alone.

Never a good combination when you're me. So, I send Kellie a text, partly to ask permission, partly because it's going to happen regardless, but at least this way, she is "Part" of the decision making process. If it all goes wrong, she SAID I could.

Me:
I am not mad.
But.
Would you have any issues with me cooking a full roast dinner?
For breakfast?
In a couple of weeks?
Like I say, I am not mad.

Kellie:
Any particular reason, apart from your not being mad?

Me:
Well, being that I am NOT mad, it's in the name of science. Why can Pork control the breakfast table, and why CAN'T we have a roast lamb dinner for breakfast one Saturday morning?
It's all VERY scientific, thus making me not mad.

Kellie:
OK, on the continent they have a wide range of meats on their breakfast table, not just pork. Can you not draw from that?
Also, any reason why it has to be a full roast dinner, why not a lamb chop, black pudding, piece of steak and fried potatoes.....?

Me:
One, we are not on the continent. Plus they don't have full roast dinners for breakfast.
Two, ah, I went off on a tangent and decided an English Breakfast with a lamb chop was just boring, and why CAN'T you have rosemary roast spuds for breakfast too :D

Kellie:
Whatever you say darling. The one thing I feel you haven't considered is that if you want a full road for breakfast, you will have to start cooking at about 4am.... Xx

Me:
If I do all the prep work the night before, 6am start for a 10am breakfast!

Kellie:
OK, if it makes you happy darling, you go ahead..... I still think you're mental.... X

Me:
I am not mad!

Kellie:
I didn't say mad, I said mental.... X

Me:
I want to cook my family a meal, that's not mental, that's loving and considerate!

Because at this point I had her up against the ropes, she stopped talking to me. She clearly knew I was right. She was silent right up until she appeared on Twitter about ten minutes later:

Kellie Castleman @KellieCastleman
Will you lot stop putting ideas into @0dd1 head, he is impressionable and I now have a full roast dinner to look forward to for breakfast!!

I am slightly confused, as she tells them to stop, then says she's looking forward to it. Strange girl.

But I digress. I am now planning to do this, all in the name of SCIENCE and to see why it is not acceptable to have a roast dinner for breakfast. None of this pre-cooked-frozen-just-reheat milarky either. No no no, home made roast spuds and sausage meat stuffing balls, yorkshire puds, peas, sweetcorn and Brussels sprouts, and a slab of roast lamb, complete with Mint Sauce and Gravy.

I am also going to insist we eat in our Pyjamas. Or boxers and dressing gown is the case for some of us.

I will get everything ready the night before - spuds peeled and chopped and ready to go, veggies in pans, meat herbed and basted, so when I get up at six, I can get the meat on, then the spuds and stuffing, then all the veg, so hopefully it'll be ready for 10am. What I have FAILED to tell her, that a nice roast dinner breakfast will ALSO have a nice dessert. I am thinking Cheesecakes, or maybe a Gateaux... But we shall see.

Once and for all, I will find out WHY we can't have big roast meals at breakfast times. It's science, and it's proving things once and for all.

It also says another, unrelated statement: Never leave Dan on his own for any amount of time.

Unsympathetic

It has been suggested that yours truly may fall into the category of Unsympathetic Bastard.

As a retort, I tried to prove that I was, in fact, very sympathetic. However... If you don't fall into a series of categories, then you're shit out of luck. I don't think my list is entirely unreasonable, and if I am very honest, if you think I am mean to you via the Interweb, imagine being one of our kids, trying to wangle a day of school with a sudden case of Don't Feel Well Itus.

Which, incidentally, has been all but eradicated from this address, on account of the list.

It should also be noted that this list also has exceptions at every step, so while you might believe you fit into one category, you are probably wrong. Also, good rule of thumb: If it's is stupidly self inflicted, then you are automatically disqualified from sympathy. Booze, Driving Like A Dick, Showing How You Can Ride Without Using Your Hands, Juggling Chain Saws... No non nein.


- Something Leaking From Where It Shouldn't Be:
Generally, if you're bleeding out, then you are entitled to sympathy. No, ladies, just no. You chose to be a woman, deal with it. Also, PROPER puking is allowed, UNLESS you've gotten yourself knocked up, in which case, your own fault.

Exceptions? Watery eye, running nose, booze-induced pukathon, dodgy kebab itus...


- Something Not Moving That Should Be Moving:
Maybe you've popped something out of it's socket. Maybe you've broken it. Maybe you've snapped your tendons and ligaments. Whichever, they are usually entitled to a brief "Oooh nasty, take care!"

Exceptions: Something is so swollen after you did some form of body modification that you can't move it? Jog on.


- Something Moving That Shouldn't Be Moving:
That joint that has suddenly appeared between your wrist and your elbow? Your foot pointing aaaall the way back behind yourself? Your ribs poking out of your chest? Yep, all perfectly valid reasons for a wincing "Ouch!"

Exceptions: You did it playing sport. You prat.


- Something Inserted Where It Shouldn't Be:
Anything from a very large splinter (ie, over an inch!) to a knife, a rapier, a claymore sword... Tree Branches, Pipes or other large objects are also eligible for good bout of "Brilliant! Get well soon!" I will also even accept a large bone (that belongs to yourself) poking out of where it shouldn't. Also, nails, screws and bolts inserted into the body THROUGH the meat qualify. Additionally, ANYTHING, regardless of size, that has to be removed from the eyeball by a professional.

Exceptions: That teeny tiny splinter the size of a microbe? No chance. Power tool accident WHILE doing DIY also doesn't count. It's like tap dancing on a minefield - eventually, you're going to go BANG. And again, body modifications gone wrong are exempt.

- Germs, Parasites & Viruses:
If it's something that causes oozing from places there should be no ooze, causes things to appear where things SHOULDN'T appear, or makes internal organs burst, then you are pretty much going to get a little "Awww there there" thrown your way. Additionally, things living inside you are just downright COOL and will always get "Wow, that was in your THIGH! Excellent!" Properly nasty illnesses will also get a cool cloth on the forehead and chicken soup provided.

Exceptions: That sniffle, tickly cough, rash, or other little thing that isn't worth bothering the doctor about? Nah. That cough that is REALLY loud and annoying is also ineligible due to the annoyance factor. Anything you refuse to see a doctor about also disqualifies you from sympathy. If it's not bad enough to disturb a medical professional, it's not bad enough to disturb me.


- Something Not Attached To Where It Should  Be:
If ANY part of your body has to be collected by a third party, put on ice, and driven separately from yourself, congratulations, you've reached the Holy Grail of sympathy. Pretty much anything that is not intended to come off, the comes off, will get you pity. Internal Organs that become External Organs through almost any means also qualify. Your spleen should not be dangling from your anus, for example. Likewise, if a new orifice has appeared through which an Internal Organ, Bone, Ligament or other structural item is visible, you may also get me to hold your hand.

Exemptions: Ear Lobes and Finger Tips are the equivalent of the ickle sad splinters of this group. I am talking dismemberment. DIY-Induced accidents are also not counted - see Tap dancing on a Landmine analogy previously. Having body parts removed may or may not qualify - appendix, tonsils, gall bladder... They will be judged on a case-by-case basis.


- Being Dead:
Being dead qualifies you for sympathy, PROVIDING you don't meet any of the Exemption Criteria for the previous sections. Death through sports or DIY? Dead after binge drinking? Teeny Tiny splinter turned gangrenous? Sorry, all your own stupid fault.


- Other Exceptions:
When a fellow Man is injured square in the googlies, then he is entitled to sympathy - unless he deserved it. This is to be determined by a vote by other men present.

ManFlu ALWAYS qualifies for sympathy, such is the severity.

Lastly, I am ALWAYS exempt from any and all exemptions under each category.


So there you have it, my quick and easy guide for proving that I am, in fact, a very sympathetic person. You're pretty much safe as long as it's A) Not self induced, B) Not a sniffle, and occasionally C) Hilarious.

If you disagree with ANY aspect of these rules, then please do not expect any form of sympathy in return!

A MIGHTY Quest!

"Let's get KFC in for dinner tonight" Kellie suggested. Six words and three letters that will remain engrained in my brain for HOURS at least.

It's Saturday night, the kids have been in and out and doing their own thing, and it's not often we all sit down and have a junk food session. Additionally, the alternatives were "Something Quick And Easy" or "Something Leftover" which may sound dull, but the kids are quite happy to have leftover something they love.

"I'll pop to town and grab some -" I offer helpfully "- and I'll take Jaysen with me. We won't be long, stick the food in the oven for five minutes when we get back to get it hot again, no worries."

Confidence is clearly a bad omen.

So, at just after half five in the evening, Jaysen and myself head out into the chilly Basildonian air, and wander down to KFC in the town centre. It's a ten minute walk, fifteen tops. On route, Kellie asks if we can get some Red Bull so we can have some more Jagermeister. So once we hit town, we divert through to Asda, fight the crowds there, and head around to KFC.

The queue there was a teeeny bit silly - there were a good dozen or more people ahead of us. So we stand - as us British people do - patiently in line, shuffling forwards when we get a chance. Four people. Three. Two... Nearly twenty minutes, and there is now just one other person in front of us.

"The cooker is on the fritz" comes the voice from the counter. "There won't be any more chicken for at least 45 minutes."

Oh for pissing hells sake. I only want some sodding chicken and chips.

"The Pitsea store is open..." she-behind the counter offers. I clomp out. Pitsea is in the exact opposite direction to where we are, but now, NOW it's a case of wanting and needing this sodding chicken.

I call Kellie and let her know. Warn her we might be a little longer than anticipated. We then head around to the Bus stop where a few different buses head through Basildon and up to Pitsea. We wait. And wait. And wait. And wait some more.  Nearly half an hour passes... The first one comes along - proclaiming Pitsea Broadway as it's destination, and we jump on. No more waiting, I am DONE waiting.

Two return tickets cost a stupid amount of money, so for LESS money, we get day tickets. Now, granted, this is now clocking into Saturday evening, but as you will see, it's a good job we got them!

This bus - the #5 - goes through the town, up one of the main residential roads, then up through another residential area, across the top of Pitsea and to the Broadway where we want to be. Jaysen and myself are sitting chatting about how a little old lady confused him for a girl (again) when we stop.

And everyone gets off.

We're about half-way to where we want to be. I ask the driver what's occuring... Apparently, he should have changed his sign to "Felmores Shops" as his end point. But he forgot. After a certain time, the five no longer goes to Pitsea! But he FORGOT.

Our options are A) Get off and walk through a rather rough and ready area for half an hour to get to Pitsea, even though I am not entirely sure how to cut through the estate, or B) Go BACK to the town centre and try a different bus.

We go for option B. Stabbing is not on my To Do List for the evening.

And we sit and wait on the bus. And wait. And wait. He's early, apparently, so can't pull away yet. Eventually, we do the off, and he trundles back the way we just came. Just before we get past a certain point, it occurs to me the woman at KFC said 45 minutes till the chicken was ready. Time since leaving KFC?

Nearly an hour!

So, we jump off the bus two stops early - instead of having to wander around the entire town centre, we cut across the back of it. Simples!

We get there and there are others queuing for food. Result, must be ready. Three people in front. Two people in front.

"Oh, we haven't actually got ANY chicken, unless you want Hot Wings, Gravy and Fries. That's all we have... But Pitsea is open!"

Now I have to wonder at this point, WHY THE HELL were they still letting customers in?? Put a sign on the door: "We're not that bright, so come on in, queue for ten minutes till we realise there isn't anything you want here!" In the history of EVER I don't believe I have heard someone say "I want some KFC Hot Wings, with gravy and fries!"

This is the point where I am so pissed off, I start muttering naughty words under my breath. Jaysen has been lugging the bottles of Red Bull around since we got them, my pain killers are no longer doing anything, and NOW it's a matter of principle.

My woman wants KFC? My woman GETS KFC!

Then my phone battery died.

Stomping - no longer walking, but stomping - back around the back of Basildon, we head back around to the bus stop we were sitting at originally to go to Pitsea. A #5 comes along, proclaiming he is going to Pitsea.

It's the same driver as before. I say nothing, I don't move. I might be rude otherwise.

We wait and wait and - you get the picture. Another half hour, and a #8 turns up. He is definitely going to Pitsea. You know how I know? Because this bus goes right by our house. So we get on, and we enjoy the journey, passing home as we go, seeing Kellie with her nose glued to her Kindle and the girls wandering around, before the fleeting glimpse into our own lives is gone, and we're now looking in strangers windows.

FINALLY, the bus pulls into Pitsea. As we get off, we notice Dominic is about to get on. He's been at Lakeside with his friends all afternoon, and heading home, we cross paths.

So now it's me plus the two stooges. Or, as I like to refer to them, my baggage handlers. We get to the big KFC store and realise it's HEAVING. Twenty minutes it takes us to get to the counter, where, finally, with a gasp and a sob, I place the order for our big fat lardy bucket o' chicken and fries. Yes with Coleslaw and Gravy.

We leave the shop at 2015. The bus home is due at 2014, the next at 2044.

I curse.

Look where I am going.

See our bus sitting at the bus stop BEFORE ours, just idling.

I point it out to the boys. Explain we either walk then sit for half an hour, or we run hell for leather and stop the bastard if we can.

We run.

And run and run.

We get to the stop with 60 seconds to spare, and Mr Bus Man pulls up. Fifteen minutes later, at half eight in the evening, we fall in the front door, prize in hand.

We won.

It might have taken three hours, but we won. We got our chicken.

But I am exhausted. I am in agony. NEVER have I gone so far, fought SO HARD for a bucket of dead, fried poultry and some deep fried root vegetables.

I won.

The Department Store

As is thoroughly well documented in the Annuls of 0ddness, I neither "do" nor "get" most fashions, trends or similar behaviours exhibited by my fellow man. Man, as in mankind, that is.

So imagine my deep joy when, while accompanying the 0dd Sister, Gemma, on a trip into town, she said we had to go into Big Department Store down there. Aside from trendy shops, I don't "do" Department Stores. One, I am not cool enough, Two, I don't get the whole Shop-Within-A-Shop rubbish, and Three, the people that work there can see I do not belong.

Put it this way - the last time I set foot in one was Christmas-before-Last, and I was accompanying Kellie to buy the 0dd Mother-in-Law some Xmas Smellies.

Gemma needed makeup.

That is, she needed to buy some - I am not going to comment on her needing to wear makeup. But I digress.

We wander into the shop, and go to one of the shops-within-the-shop (Seriously...?!) and have to wait around for a few minutes because the girls that work in the other shops aren't allowed to help customers at other shops.

The lady turns up and Gemma explains - with the aid of a torn packet - that this is what she wants. Being that my sister can make most things last years - makeup, diesel, the guilt of scarring her forehead - it was no surprise when the lady said "Hmmm, we don't make that one any more" and proceeded to question Gemma on what she needed.

Well, fellow MEN, if you have never witnessed this female behaviour, I strongly suggest you do so. Colour Matching and Blending... She held up a bit of clear plastic with various colours splattered over it, and "found Gemmas colour" on it, and proceeded to apply it.

Now, her skin colour is, erm... Let's say Colour X. So the lady found Colour X, and with a mini paint brush, applied it to Gemmas chin. So, what she did, was take Gemmas Colour X, and put it on top of... Colour X?

There MAY have been one or two mocking comments from yours truly. I may have caused a nervous breakdown for the woman. So, happy with the fact this woman was covering her own skin colour with, er, her own skin colour, Gemma proceeded to buy it. H

However.

They happened to be out of stock.

So, they had to go "a shade darker" so the lady cleaned off the paint brush and applied Colour Y. The difference? None What So Ever!

I may have pointed this out. I may have continued my mocking, and I may have told Gemma that she's being ripped off - the brush had nothing on it, the woman was just tickling her face with it.

She didn't believe me! I know, shocking isn't it.

Gemma, happy with buying Colour Y, agrees that that is what she wants, and proceeds to the counter. The woman then rummages around her cupboard, and the next stage is the type of finish. The options were a matt finish, a glossy finish, a silk finish, a lasting finish, a thicker finish...

Anyone else see types of PAINT here?! Matt, Gloss, Silk, Exterior and One Coat?

I MAY have pointed this out to the woman. She had never seen it that way, but I bet she does now.

So Gemma chose the exterior paint and there's me thinking that was that. No no. NOW we have to make our way to a Payment Area - accompanied by the woman - and before she could even pay, she decided to do some form-completing on the computer!

I was mocking, the whole time. I stood there, looking at the other products. The complete and utter shit you women think you need to make your face look nice is beyond me. Properly out of my mind. Cleansers and Toners, Oils, Anti Ageing, Exfoliaters and Masks, Serums, Night Cream, Day Cream, Hydration Treatments... And you know what - it doesn't matter WHAT stupid "formula" name they slap on it - ProEvolutiul x10 or something shit - it means BUGGER ALL!

This little tube Gemma bought yesterday cost close to £30. Granted, it lasts her a few years, but then, she only uses a tiny bit two or three times a week. There are those of you out there - and I can hear you shuffling uncomfortably - that would go through the tube on a regular basis.

Thirty quid. For foundation?

And don't tell me "Oh but I NEED it!" or "But it DOES make a difference!" because I refuse to believe it. If you lot just realised, you're going to get old, throwing money at your face won't change that, that money could be spent on other things you could ENJOY, products sporting "newly discovered proteins" and "Micro Bead Release Technology" would soon vanish.

Let's put it another way. If Hubby came home and had spent a metric Shit Ton of money on a new beer because it contained "Micro Activated Yeast & Hop Particles Transfused in a Laboratory" you lot would go mental. Proper garrity and off the rails. If you moan that "Hubby spent £80 in the pub this week" go look at all your lotions and potions, tally up all the treatments you have for your skin, your nails and your hair, and then tell me who had the more fun and cost the least.

And before any of you start jumping up and down and spitting your dummies out at the fact there are now male ranges of all this sort of shit, you're right. The men that fall for all that crap are idiots too. But I don't know a single bloke that buys it.

Brilliant Reporting (Again)

Very brief post as I don't know how long this story will remain on Sky News for before it's edited... However. Some sleazy reporter borrowed a police horse or something, and the Prime Minister said he probably rode on it.

Now, I get there are probably undertones of corruption and stuff - but I don't care. Politicians & Reporters all seem to be a bit flexible with the truth.

Not the point of this post.

Here is the link, but I have screenshots in case it's changed.

Screenshot:

Obviously, it's a Clicky to Embiggen situation.

Here is the part that made me genuinely LOL my little heart out:

 READ that caption. "A Typical Horse"

Who the buggery needs a picture of "A Typical Horse" ?!  But it gets better - usually you read left to right, and look at the images, left to right, as you would in a comic, correct. In which case, top left is David Cameron, Top Right is Charlie Brooks, Bottom Left is Rebekah Brooks, Bottom Right is A Typical Horse.

Clearly the simple things in life amuse me too much!

Passing Time #16

As usual, clicky them all to embiggen the ones you can't read...

On Having OCD

If there is one thing that I hate about myself (pfft, only ONE?!) it's some of the things I do that can be pegged down to being OCDish.

Now, I am not talking about those whose lives are actually altered by having OCD, I am not NOT bad and I am not suggesting that I am at all. But it does both amuse and irritate me and others around me.

Mostly, it amuses.

However, some of the aspects I deal with, I don't see as being "Strange" or anything else, I just see them as being ordered and organised. I like some things done in a certain way, or the end result is not good.

Usually, I think I am right, but I can see why others think I am wrong.

Washing Up
I HAVE to wash up in a certain order. This I believe is common sense because you don't wash oily tins before washing glasses. I have to wash up in the following order: Glasses; Mugs; Plastic Cups; Big Plates; Small Plates; Plastic Plates; Big Bowls; Small Bowls; Cutlery; Containers; Tools; Saucepans; Tins.

I also cannot leave stuff "in soak" regardless of how stuck-on something might be. Worst-case scenario: I use a knife to scrap it off, as well as copious amounts of elbow grease.

Every item must be rinsed in hot water.  Now here's the "thing" I know I do. I HAS to be placed in size-order, big to small. It doesn't matter if it is plates, glasses, mugs, each group has to be arranged in size order. Added to this, all mugs and tea cups MUST have their handles pointed at the four o'clock position.

If I take over someone elses washing up - say, someone has started, but has to rush off - I have to rearrange everything first.

Justifications: Washing up in that order prevents the glasses and plates getting greasy. Placing them in size order? It makes them dry quicker. Rinsing in hot water adds to the drying speeds. Yes, even the handles-at-four makes them dry faster.


Music Files
Previously, this was just limited to Music and Video files, but now also applies to my new-found Kindle files too... However, files HAVE to be done in a certain way, including the "internal" Meta-Data - which I have become a pro at editing too!

Music files MUST be titled by Musician/Band then Song Title. Nothing more, Nothing less. AND between Artist/Title, it must be SPACE HYPHEN SPACE. And capitals in the right place. Spaces, not punctuation. Spelling is also important.

For instance, the top item here is correct. The rest are WRONG:  

Aerosmith - Eat The Rich
aerosmith - eat the rich
Eat The Rich - Aerosmith
Aeromith-big ones: eat the rich
Aerosmith-Eat_The_Rich

And so on and so forth. Even if there is ONE space missing in the middle, I notice it and have to fix it. The meta data also has to be nothing more than Artist and Title. No genre, no rating, no comments, no album name or image.

Justifications: The names have to be uniform so it looks neat in the folder. The spaces and hyphen break it up nicely but not too much. The meta data is annoying and never have I thought "I want to listen to THIS Genre!" or have I ever considered rating my music, commenting on the file, and I don't care what album it's from. It's all just pointless data.


TV  Files
Similar to the music files, TV adds the bonus of having to be sorted by Show Name, THEN the season, THEN the episode number - plus each episode probably has a name too. As an example:

The Mentalist - S01E03 - Red Tide

Show name/Series 01/Episode 03/Episode Title. You will also notice the Space/Hyphen/Space combo.

Justifications: In their folders, this sorts them out into the correct order. The show title must be on there in case it gets moved accidentally - I can move it back without having to view it. The Series/Episode has to be that way so it is correctly sorted, and with windows being thick, you have to put single digits as ZERO-ONE and not just ONE as windows believes that 10 comes before 1. It does know, however, the 01 comes before 10. Episode title I have to have as, mainly, if I watch a few episodes of an evening, I don't recognise the show NUMBER, but I do recognise the title.


Plus the spaces and hyphens keep it nice and neat once more. Also, no meta data, thank you. The basics, but none of the rest of it.


Movie Files
These are easy. ANY movie file on the computer simply contains the name of the film. Not the year, not the lead actor, not the director, not the genre. JUST the movie title. That's all the info you need for a film.

HOWEVER. If it is part of a series, I have to slap in numbers so Windows arranges it accordingly. For instance, The Lord of the Rings, if Windows gets its way is sorted like so:

The Lord of the Rings - The Fellowship of The Ring
The Lord of the Rings - The Return of the King
The Lord of the Rings - The Two Towers

Wrong wrong wrong - enough to make me want to cry. But, like with the TV Shows, the addition of some numbers makes it ALL better:

The Lord of the Rings 01 - The Fellowship of The Ring
The Lord of the Rings 02 - The Two Towers
The Lord of the Rings 03 - The Return of the King

Justifications: I don't need to know what year it was made, who directed, who's in it or anything else. I just need the name of the film. If it's a series of films, then they need to be together in the correct order. Even if they have completely different titles, I will work it so they are together.


Book Files
Along the same vein as Music and TV Shows, I have to have my books arranged in a certain way, otherwise they are all just smooshed together and look horrendous. Usually, the books I read are part of a series, but in this case, the title of the books are more important that the author, unlike my music files, in which case the musician is more important that the song title.

As such, my books HAVE to be arranged by series.

Sword of Truth 01 - Wizards First Rule - Terry Goodkind
Sword of Truth 02 - The Blood of the Fold - Terry Goodkind

And so on - Book Series/Book Title/Author

Justifications: I read books in serial order, so want them grouped together in that way, in order. If you group them by book title, there's NO order and things get confusing. Sorting by Author just doesn't make sense as some authors - such as Clive Cussler - have several DIFFERENT series of books going on.  Messy.


Sandwiches
Yes, you probably think I'm now going off the rails. I'm not... Well, maybe I am, but I don't believe I am. But sandwiches HAVE to be prepared, cut, and eaten in a certain way.

First off, the two slices come out the packet, and have to be laid out on the side in a mirror image to one another. Second, you have to butter to the very edges. The filling also then must go to the very edges. Then they have to be cut in TRIANGLES. Not rectangles, not squares, but TRIANGLES. One cut (for two sandwiches) or two cuts (for four small ones) are acceptable to me, but it has to be a triangle.

Then, you have to eat the one with more of the bottom of the slice first.  Let me explain... As you look at a slice of bread, you have the "top" which was the top of the tin, and you have the "bottom" which was the base of the tin. The base is the drier part of the bread. Cutting a triangle, one of the triangles has more of the "Bottom" than the other... THAT is the one you eat first.

And to eat it, if the bread is small enough/my mouth big enough, I have to eat sharp angle, sharp angle, but in the middle, edge, edge corner, done.

Justifications: The bread has to be mirrored as bread is NOT even, so mirroring it makes the slices fit together perfectly. The insides have to go to the very edges, as there is nothing worse than having just bread in your mouth. Triangles... Well, they taste better. Big or small, they just DO. Eating it that way too, you don't get food on the sides of your mouth like you would biting into the centre of a common rectangle. If the bread is small, I can do a triangular sarnie in four bites - thin corner/thin corner/middle/last corner.


Windows
I've mentioned Windows a few times before, but only because of how it likes to arrange things. Windows is wrong in it's arrangement skills.

However, MY Windows has to be set up in a certain way, and when I fix other peoples computers, I try my best to not do it to their computers too. I usually fail.

Firstly, the Desktop. The wallpaper itself can be anything, but it can't be too "busy". By that, I mean it can't have loads going on in it, can't be awash with colours...

Kellies laptop has the following HORRENDOUS wallpaper, which you should click to make larger:

 My current wallpaper, however, is the complete opposite:

Don't get me wrong - I LIKE Kellies picture (It's the office from The IT Crowd, before you ask), and I love that program - but as a WALLPAPER, it's go too much going on in it.

Next up, Icons. Currently, my desktop has two icons on it... A photo of Posh Totty in her PJs, and the picture I used at the top of this post. One of these will be deleted, the other will be filed away for later use. My desktop NEEDS to be clean and tidy, and only important things go on there that need to be sorted ASAP, then they get filed or deleted.

And no, my Recycle Bin is hidden as well.

The System Tray is another of my peeves. I HATE seeing a load of stuff running down there (most of which is usually pointless) and even those of you that hide the icons, clicking that arrow and having a tsunami of little icons appear is nerve-wracking. If a program has a System Tray, I check the options and remove it if possible. If that program isn't important but you can't remove that icon, that program gets removed from the computer.

Running in my system tray at the moment, I have my Antivirus, my Network Manager program, my Sound Management program, and my Power Information. Everything else is disabled. And even then, those icons are automatically hidden. Windows Update pops up every now and then to tell me there are new updates, and they get done usually when they appear.

Also, the Add/Remove Programs tool is like my secret lover... I will go through there periodically, and anything I've got installed (that isn't important) that I haven't used in a while - gone. Uninstalled.

And as an aside from TV/Music/Books etc, the My Documents folder has to be neat and tidy too, with a folder for whatever item is needed. I've got a folder for my phone backup, one for blog-related stuff, one for letters, one for pictures to post, and so on and so on. Everything has a place.

At least now you know why - when you get your computer back from me - it looks different. I've changed everything!

Justifications: Partly, the wallpapers is due to my colourblindness. If you have a really busy wallpaper, you can't see what is what on the desktop. Partly, makes it look cluttered and messy, and breaks my concentration. Desktop Icons just annoy me. There is nothing that needs to be on your desktop. If it's a funny picture, put it in your Pictures folder. If it's a document, My Documents is there for a reason. Music? My Music folder. A shortcut? Either use the Quick Launch bar down the bottom left if you use it all the time (Browser, Email, Music Player), or use the Start Menu... Either click Start/Programs/Your File, or PIN it to the Start Menu so it's there when you press start!

The System Tray icons - the more there are running down there, the more crap you've got running on your computer, the slower it will be.


The My Documents folder... Well it's common sense - you wouldn't bundle up all your real, proper documents into one big box so you can't find what you want, would you? Actually, I am pretty sure some of you would...


Gaming
Yes yes, very strange, but a small category. But when I am gaming, I need everything to be laid out just so so I can concentrate. In World of Warcraft, my inventory has to be A) Big, and B) Properly laid out. I have to have certain things in certain places. In Tiny Tower (see My Tower), I have to group my floors by their type, and the people that work ON those floors, have to be dressed in the appropriate colour. When I play a *band/Roguelike game, I have to have the screen set up just so too.

I suspect it's why I don't do console games - I can't use key bindings or alter how things are...

Justifications: I need things laid out so I know where everything is at a couple of clicks of a button. I know where to move my mouse before the appropriate window has opened so I can click that item to do that task quickly. My Tower people have to be coloured so when I need to find one, I know s/he will either be in a certain group of floors, or in the Residential area.


Mobile Phone
Another 0dd one. Sue me. But. My address book HAS to be sorted by first name, and everyone HAS to have their surname, the only exceptions being Mum/0dd Mum In Law/Dad/Nans.

Being that I have a smart phone with seven home screens, I also need to keep them neat and tidy. The first page has the clock and weather, followed by my SMS program, Twitter, Internet and WhatsApp - I use them all the time. The other windows are for different things. Game shortcuts on one, Social Media on another, Mapping on another, Settings on another, Calendar... I know two swipes right is Games, or two left is Calendar. I can do it without looking.

Justifications: Neat and Tidiness, mostly, but also, grouping the right things with similar things means I can go to one place for everything I need at that moment.


So there you have it... My flaws laid bare. And these are just the main ones that spring to mind while writing. There are so many others, such as how clothes should be folded, how cutlery should be stored, how things should sit on a table, lining stuff up... But they are all minor little things that I don't even realise I do. I am sure Kellie could sit here going on about the stuff I get up to, but this post has gone on long enough.

Musical Monday #129 - Supernova

I am sure that, one day, I will do a Musical Monday post on a song that is currently popular. One that is getting press, popular amongst the yoofs, a rising star.

One day. Just not today.

Once again, dear reader, I am putting on a song that was very popular, it was a big song, and the yoofs did love it.

I'm not sure why this song is in my head today. Don't get me wrong, I don't not like this song - quite the opposite, I think it's a really good song, but upon rolling out of bed this morning, it's running around in my head as is usual for me.

The soundtrack to my day.

It's a brilliant song, have a listen. Mr Hudson - Supernova:

Books & Reading

My very nature, is that of someone that loves books. I've always been a big reader, and my biggest, nerdy claim to fame, is that I read The Hobbit aged nine, followed by The Lord of the Rings.

Even at a young age, I was a geek. I still have that copy of the Lord of the Rings too - even if it IS falling to bits.

I have always loved books. I spent a lot of my childhood in libraries, I usually had my nose in a book, or, a book was always close to hand.

Once I started using computers, I would read things on the screen, using PgUp/PgDwn buttons instead of turning a page.

It's not the same, reading books digitally on a computer. When I got my first laptop I thought "This will be more like it" but even then, it still wasn't the same. I still had a bloody great bit of tech right in front of me.

When the various e-readers came out, like the Kindle and the Nook, I was intrigued, but none the less, didn't get one. For one, they were a lot of money, and two, I LOVE books. I am sure that at least one of you will understand when I stay, how good it feels to open a brand new book, how the pages feel... And I know at least one of you will also appreciate the smell of a new book.

So I didn't investigate the various readers much further.

Last Xmas, Kellie wanted to get me one. I told her no. I like proper books, it's a lot of money, yada yada yada. I didn't want her spending a big fat lump of money on that when we could have gotten her something pretty.

For Mollys birthday, she mentioned wanting an e-reader, and a few days later, we found one - just a basic one that reads text documents - for £25. With the assistance of a tool that converts the different book formats, we got her a load of books and put them on there for her birthday.

While setting it up, installing it and what-have-you, I was taken by the fact that it was, in fact, pretty clever. The "e-ink" stuff was clever, the battery life on these things is incredible, they're light and aside from a few buttons, it was quite like an actual book.

Minus, you know, the feeling, the texture and the smell.

I gave it to Kellie to fiddle with, and she too was impressed.

That was the beginning of the end, really. We had a think about it, and knew we couldn't afford one, let alone two.

Then it hit us. We had all our Christmas vouchers sitting in the cupboard.

Now, the thing with us is, we don't tend to buy ourselves "stuff" very often. Kellies shoes and bags notwithstanding. We had already decided to use the vouchers on some new saucepans and stuff for the kitchen.

We're like that. We will spend our money and stuff on bills, or things needed in the house. Not that we "need" pans and crockery - there's nothing wrong with what we have, but we thought we'd get new ones.

Until we realised we had enough for a Kindle each.

That was that.  We trundled into town and grabbed two Kindles from Argos, did some shopping, came home and started to play.

I love playing with new tech almost as much as I love a new book ;)

The first thing that struck me was the lightness of it, even compared to Mollys e-reader. The screen is the same size as a normal page, and it's thin too - but thick enough that it's easy to hold. You don't get an aching hand from holding it for long periods - it is just the right shape, size and weight.

Setting it up was pretty easy, linking it to our Amazon accounts and everything, simple. Connecting it to the WiFi wasn't difficult, but it was a bit infuriating. I use MAC Address filtering on our router - that is, only devices I've said can connect, are allowed to connect. You do this by putting the items MAC Address into the router configuration screen so it knows to allow it to pass. However, the Kindle doesn't tell you it's MAC Address during setup. So I had to log into the router, disable the filtering, go through the Kindle setup, go into the router, see which devices were connected, work out which was the Kindle, copy it'd MAC Address, go into the filtering system, add the address to the filter, turn it back on again.

Ideally, the Kindle should show you it's address during setup. Would make life a few minutes easier.

So, once set up and configured, it was time for books, so we went through getting a load. Some we got directly from Amazon, and literally, once you confirm the purchase, it arrived on the Kindle. Simple as that. Others, we had to download to the computer, and put on there ourselves. It's literally as difficult as plugging in a USB cable, and moving files from your computer, to the Kindle itself - which opens up on your screen like any other drive folder.

Simples.

With a program called Calibre, you can convert any books you get that are in the wrong format too. The Kindle only reads a few of the different Ebook formats, but with Calibre (which is a free program, by the way!) you can convert them from whatever format you have, into the correct one for the reader. Again, it's literally as simple as clicking a few buttons and away you go.

You can arrange the books on your Kindle quite easily too. You can bundle them into collections, you can sort them by Author, or by Title, or by Date.

Once you're reading, it is honestly so close to being a page of a book. I was sat in the lounge, sunlight streaming in, and it was crystal clear. It works perfectly well in bright light, or low light. It DOESN'T have a light up screen mind you, so you need a light on to read - you can get cases with built in lights, but they seem stupidly priced. I'll stick a lamp on, thanks. If you think this is a hardship, think again - if you were reading, you would have that lamp on ANYWAY. Yes, it's the 21st Century, and everything has backlit/floodlit screens... But I am sure staring at one for long periods is going to screw your eyes up.

The buttons for turning the page are on the side, and the "Next Page" button is placed pretty much exactly where your thumb would sit when holding it normally. Right handed, or for the freaky of you, Left handed too. There are Next/Previous buttons on both sides of it.

The buttons across the bottom are simple too. Back - which works as a back page button, or mainly, back through menus, Keyboard, which opens the keyboard for typing in titles, searching documents or whatever, Menu, which opens the menu, and Home, which takes you to the first screen of your home page.

With the WiFi on, you can buy books from Amazon directly through your Kindle. You can also access the web. Granted, it's in Grey Scale, but you can do it. You can read blogs on it too via Google Reader.

The other rather nifty function, is sending books to it. You can buy online and have them delivered directly to you. You can plug in the USB and slap them on there. Or, with your Kindle Address - which is just an email address specifically for your Kindle - you can email books to it.

Case in point. I had a book on my computer that I KNEW Kellie would want. However, she was in bed upstairs (reading!). Instead of waiting till morning, I attached the book to an email and sent it to her kindle address. Two minutes later, it was delivered directly to her Kindle.

Doing this also backs it up on the Amazon servers, just in case you lose it somehow.

Once reading, you can fiddle with view settings too, change the font size to quite small, to massive - even those of you with eye problems should be able to see that! You can change the font from serif, to sans serif or condensed. You can alter the line spacing to closer or even closer together (if you want, not sure why you would - it looks weird!) and you can change the rotation of the device if you REALLY want to, and read it portrait or, strangely, upside down.

My only "gripe" if you will, is the position of the power button. It's virtually centred on the base. Exactly where my little finger sits. Many times while reading, I've accidentally caught that button and shut it down. I've password-protected it to prevent the kids sodding around with it, so every time I turn it off, I have to fiddle around with the keyboard and four-way button to type it in.

Only a little niggle I know, but still.

Actually, hold that thought... I wonder if that's why you can rotate the orientation of the page to "Upside Down"

Bear with me...

HA! OK, so that niggle... It is easily overcome by changing the screen rotation to the "Upside Down" position. And strangely, due to the size of the Next/Previous buttons, my thumb is STILL in the right place for the "Next Page" button.

Hopefully, once my case arrives for it, the position of the button won't be such an issue, but we will see...

As for cases, they too seem silly prices. If you want one - and you will, just for peace of mind - look on Ebay. We saw cases in the shop - leather, padded cases - for about £20. On Ebay, they are £7 each.

So, in short, I love my Kindle. It's reignited my love for reading, and it makes me love words all over again. It's not a replacement for books, mind you. I don't see books disappearing any time soon because there is too much to love about them... But I can see they now have some serious competition.

It's a brilliant bit of tech geekery, it's easy to use, the things you want it to do, it does, the menu system is intuitive, and looking at the words on the pages, it really is like looking at text on a page. And because it's not a lit screen, there is no glare to give you a headache.

Delays

The more astute of you (ie, three) will have noticed that I have been a little quiet on the intarwebz of late. It's not you, it's me.

Oooh I've never had to say that!

Anyways, with the time of year being what it is - especially this week - my drive to blog and engage people on Facebook has been lessened. The blogging side, because I have been so tired to boot, I've not had much to say really. Facebook, well, being that it's February, that makes it CHD Awareness Month. And as much as I want to drum up awareness, I can't go on Facebook and read everyones happy stories about their child getting through surgeries, and can't look at everyones profile pictures or posted photos of their child in recovery, covered in wires and pipes.

Yes, it's seven years ago. No, I am not over it.

And NO. I am certainly NOT having a go at any of you for posting your stuff. More power to you, fight the good fight. I am saying I can't look at and read all that stuff. It's too painful.

But I digress.

You would think with me feeling like this, Tuesday was rough, but again, you'd be wrong. Tuesday morning - as usual - I flopped out of bed at six and bumbled downstairs. Kellie came down a few minutes later and sat with me, watching iPlayer (TV on Demand type thingie for you not from these ickle Island) while I contemplated the day.

I did my blog post, had a little cry, then pulled myself together. "Today -" I thought to myself "- is going to be a GOOD day." I made sure my post was positive and up. As I said to Kellie the day after, I had four wonderful, brilliant years with Bethy. She would be pissed if I let the last few days of her life override all the fun and good times I had with her. Sure, I could mope and sulk and cry and wale and hide under my duvet, but that would not be fair.

So, I thought of everything fun and nice and good...

Tuesday was not a bad day. Plus, Kellie was here making sure I was OK, looking after me. We went out and in a shock turn of events, did something we don't usually do. Usually, our Christmas Money & Vouchers go on bills or stuff the house needs. But this year, we decided "NO" and took our stuff to Argos and treated ourselves to a Kindle each.

That is a whole 'nother blog post :)

Allow me to rewind just a little... Monday I decided I would get the house in order a little. Usually I pace my housework through the week, but figured I wouldn't be doing anything Tuesday, and Wednesday I probably couldn't be arsed. So, Monday I blitzed through everything. I worked my sodding great socks off. I started just after eight that morning, and didn't sit down till nearly three that afternoon.

I was dead, knackered, in pain and exhausted. Luckily I had already done most of the stuff for dinner. Then it hit me - Monday night is Tam at Beavers, then Molly at Cubs. Tam gets dropped off, me and Mo walk her to Beavers, then we walk home, then I feed Dominic and Molly, then Me and Mo walk BACK to Beavers - Tam gets picked up from there - so I drop Mo off, walk home, start Kellies dinner (who is about to get in from work), then 90 minutes later I go get Molly, bring her home, finish off dinner and flop down at about half nine.

Knackering.

This Monday was different. Tam was due to be picked up at 6.45, but Jo ran out of petrol, and Tam wanted to go back there. So I had drop off Mo, get Tam come home, get money, go out, get the bus across Basildon, drop Tam off, get the bus back across Basildon, then go get Mo...

So Monday was probably a stupid day to be busy.

Conversely, I was exhausted Tuesday, but still pushed myself to keep doing "stuff".

Wednesday, it all caught up with me and I was in agony. I hobbled out of bed at six, and was taking drugs five minutes later. So. Much. Pain.

But being that I am oh-so-smart, we had to go out and get some shopping. Apparently, you HAVE to feed kids. By LAW.

Thursday morning it was all I could do to get up out of bed. Then, in a bolt of brilliance, I decided Tam and myself would CYCLE across Basildon. Usually it takes us - running at Tam Speed - half an hour to get from our door to the school. On the bus, it takes twenty minutes, so that's not bad going really. Once she's dropped off, I ride home in 15 minutes. Then I leave here at half two to go get her, usually taking 20 minutes as I am knackered, then a half hour ride home.

Thursday, however, I was dead before I started. It took us 40 minutes to get TO school that morning. Luckily, we left early, just in case. It then took me, alone, another 40 minutes to get home. I was very much "Ow, Ow, Ow..." the whole way back, and walked the bike up part of Broadmayne which is a mile-long steady upward slope.

I got in and ate a load of painkillers and crashed on the sofa. I didn't do ANYTHING. I just sat reading because I could barely move. Knowing I had to go get her from school, I left home at 2.15 that afternoon, giving me an hour to collect her. I only JUST made it, I got there at 3.10. I was in agony. If I weren't in public, I would have flopped on the ground in tears.

I can't even begin to explain to you how that feels. The pain is hard enough to detail, but the emotional stuff that comes with it is horrendous.

Coupled with this, being on my own Thursday, being tired and in pain, I felt miserable, Completely, utterly miserable. I missed Kellie, I missed the kids, I kept thinking about Bethy, I was in shitting pain...

So, I get Tam, and we start our ride home.

Halfway back, I call it quits and walk my bike. Tam is usually  a bit slow, but today, she was riding circles around me. Literally.

It took us over an hour to get home. I threw something in the oven and collapsed on the sofa feeling very sorry for myself. The boys cleared up the dinner stuff, Kellie sorted our dinner, and I just sat on the sofa trying not to sob to myself.

Friday morning I could hardly walk. I could hardly move. I opted NOT to cycle (rather, Kellie told me in no uncertain terms, I am NOT to ride) so Tam and myself went to school on the bus. Once she was dropped, Gemma offered me a lift home, but with the catch that I had to wander around Asda for a bit. So she shopped while I played with Toby in the trolley. And, allegadly, abused both Gemma and Toby.

Gemma makes some WILD accusations...

Once done, she brought me home, where I got in and crashed down again, once more feeling like absolute shite. I did a little pottering around, but not a lot, and spent the day on the sofa being a big brave boy.

And so, here we are at Saturday once more. I've been up an hour, trying to focus my brain, trying to wake up. I feel like complete shit today, am physically and mentally exhausted. However, the house is quiet, the birds out the back are singing, and I think the sun is on its way up, and that always makes me smile.

So yes, I am alive. I am breaking radio silence here and on Twitter. Facebook is being avoided for a couple more weeks, and then I should be back on there proper too.

My Angel

My brain is usually good with "time" and my internal clock is pretty accurate. However, when it comes to Bethy, it isn't sure.

Today, as hard as it is to believe, Bethy has been gone for seven years. On the one hand, this day in 2005 feels like it was just yesterday. On the other, it is almost like it was an eternity ago. I still remember every moment of that day like it was just yesterday, the noises, the smells, the emotion; but it feels so long ago.

And, I suppose, it WAS a long time ago.

As I have said many times, people using the adage "Time is a great healer" can never understand that, actually, no, time is NOT a great healer. Time makes things different, but it doesn't heal it.

But I digress.

Seven years ago, at 12.21pm, Bethy had had enough. Enough of having limits on her physical exercise, enough of being on medication, enough of trying to recover from the heart surgery, and that was that. With a sigh, she was gone.

And I know - I KNOW - that where ever she is now, she is better. She is doing what she wants, when she wants. She doesn't have to worry about passing out because she ran too far, about having a funny turn because the swings were going to fast, about having to stop undressing her dolly because she needs to take a metric ton of medication... She can run, and jump, and dance, and if she trips and falls and scrapes her knee, I've not got to take her to a doctor for additional antibiotics.

Today - despite being very tired from a very busy few days - I am focusing on everything BEFORE this day of 2005. I am thinking about the beautiful little moo dangling out on the bannisters, I am thinking about my beautiful little moo babbling away about, well, nothing in particular... Today is about everything BEFORE today.

To my Beautiful Angel, Bethany...


Seven years you've been gone my sweet. Seven years of doing things YOU want to do, without worry about what might happen to you after. 


It feels so long ago, but still feels so raw, I can't get my head around it. But I know you're there sometimes, watching us do whatever we're doing. Sometimes, I think I catch sight of you, sometimes I think I hear your dirty little giggle, and some nights, I dream of you sitting with me.


I miss you sitting with me.


Part of me is jealous of everyone that you have with you, of everyone that can see you every day, that can have one of your extra-tight-around-the-neck cuddles. I miss your cuddles, almost as much as I miss you.


But you're better. I know you are now even more perfect that you were before, and don't have to worry about anything, let alone what your body was going to do next.


Sometimes I wonder what it would have been like to have an extra month, a year, but I can't dwell on what-ifs. The what-ifs are too painful, so I don't..


I often sit here, telling Kellie about you, about the things you did. You might have been "poorly" but you could get into the worst kind of trouble. Shaving Sally Dog, emptying the bean bags in the house THEN in the garden, pouring the massive pot of paint of the carpet... But even in your short time down here, you lived. That's the main part.


And you did so much. You bought together so many people, raised awareness of CHDs and made so many people HAPPY. You should be proud of what you did in such a short space of time. I know I am proud of you.


Run around, my little gorgeous, dance, sing at the top of your voice. I'll get my cuddles some day, you'll get to run rings around Kellie, but we've got a lot to do down here first.


I love you and miss you terribly, my beautiful Angel. And as ever, I See You Baby...


All my love,
-Daddy
x

If you're new here, please take into consideration: Congenital Heart Defects are THE NUMBER ONE birth defect in children across the world. They don't know what causes them, most cannot be "cured" and yet there is no protocol in place to check every newborn. One in every One Hundred Babies is born with some form of defect, some worse than others, most requiring some form of surgery to correct.