Archive for the ‘Rants’ Category

I never said I would stay to the end.

Monday, December 28th, 2009

Top ten list of things that shit me this year*:

  1. Game journalists with no sense of gaming history.
  2. People who bitch, moan and complain about the price of iPhone apps.
  3. “Good Samaritan” drivers who cause traffic jams by letting someone without right of way cross/pass/in.
  4. Being given advice on a subject by someone who hasn’t taken five minutes to gather my knowledge on it first.
  5. Waitresses who really, really don’t get sarcasm.
  6. Getting older.
  7. People who just have to include a song reference into a blog title, post or Top Ten list.
  8. Eight, eight, I forget what eight was for.
  9. The globalised world refusing to do business with me on a retail level.
  10. “Aussie Pride” or Southern Cross stickers on VS/VR Holden Commodores, being driven by inbreed little cunts with white sunglasses on.

* This list may, or may not, be restricted to ten entries. I may rant on here a little, too.

Take your time, hurry up.

Wednesday, September 2nd, 2009

Social Networking In Canberra – an opinion and nothing more*.

I live in Australia’s least liked Capital City. Sydney hates us because it wants to be the Capital, Melbourne hates us because The Daily Rag says so (maybe, I don’t read the papers, but Crikey doesn’t seem to mind us that much). One of the things that strikes me as odd about Canberra is the way the City has retracted over the years.

Retracted socially, that is.

In the 1970s and 1980s there were clubs, bars and nightspots all over the place. Not just in Civic (or Canberra City, or whatever it is officially designated this year). Today, if you want to go and hang with your real-life friends, you have to drive/bus it into Town. Yes, there are a few bars in Belconnen and Woden (and I am aware of the infamous “taverns” in Tuggeranong) but they fill up rather quickly, are full of locals and, frankly, fail at being anything other than suburban bars and/or clubs.

So it strikes me as odd that Canberra Social Networkers, the self-congratulatory wankers who dominate any search results for “Canberra” or “Windbag” on Twitter, attempt to be social and network here, in Canberra. Where do they go? What do they do? Well, I reckon nowhere. They stay digital, etheral.

I get the feeling that most of them have found a small audience of people with nowhere else to be either, and so they preach to the converted (I at least only preach to the perverted, using a comination of Twitter, Tumblr and some glow sticks). I also have a sneaky suspicion that some of the better known and “Internationally” recognised fellows and felloweses are sad loners taking full advantage of any time in the sun they can have. I could be “Internationally” recognised too, it’s not difficult; all you need is a van, a backyard big enough to put some tents up and a collection of women you can scare into submission.

Doesn’t mean it’s good, though.

* Because, the only thing Social Networkers have is an opinion. And this is only mine, and it will invariable mutate as I become more or less interested in what people are saying about me. Also, if you start following me, you better prove that you are not a spammer or if you are a spammer, you better be a hot one.

An underwater guy who controlled the sea.

Friday, July 24th, 2009

Wonkey Island

So, LucasArts have revamped, re-animated, re-scored and voiced a new version of the classic The Secret of Monkey Island. And you can get it for Xbox 360, Windows or the iPhone.

I went with the iPhone path, because, hell, a point’n'click adventure makes more sense with a touch-screen than a gamepad, right?

Alas, whilst the game looks and sounds amazing, the controls are totally, utterly and horribly fucked. The developers have kept the mouse cursor part of the original game design, and whilst they have tarted up the UI*, the cursor doesn’t follow your finger on screen. It has a lag that increases the more you move. So you have to move finger, stop, lift finger, touch cursor (which is nowhere near where you want it to be) and drag again. Pity yourself if you need to click near the edge of the screen, because your finger will slide off the touch-sensitive area and the frustration will end with you boiling your iPhone in a Pryex jug in the office microwave oven.

So, my advice? Don’t buy it… yet. Hopefully LucasArts will fix the controls and push out a 1.1 version hat makes it work better on the iPhone. Until then, just play Flight Control.

P.S. Unrelated, kinda, but I found the coolest paint program ever. It’s called Grafx2 and it mimics the Amiga application Deluxe Paint. Why bring this up? Well, back in the dark old past of the late 1980s, LucasArts converted Deluxe Paint from the Amiga to the PC. And they used it for all of their adventure games. In fact, it is how Guybrush got his name, as Deluxe Paint would append “.brush” to the name of a file, and the LucasArts artists just happened to name one “guy”. So, “guy.brush” become Guybrush.

* You can play using the original sounds, graphics and interface. Which is rad. What is not rad is that the cursor lag appears here too, and they have futzed with the screen resolution which means on-screen text looks all jagged and crap. Shame.

This one act of consecration is what I ask of you.

Monday, June 8th, 2009

Things I am currently hating on, a list:

  • Advertisements that state “overseas model”. If you want to sell your phone/car/dildo here, either make the ad here or sell us a non-crippled model. I am going to start boycotting all brands that do this.
  • @swear_bot on twitter.
  • Vodafone Australia and their inability to make Visual Voicemail work.
  • Vodafone Australia and their blaming me for Visual Voicemail not working.
  • Vodafone Australia telling me to be more patient whilst they try and make Visual Voicemail work.
  • Overseas call centres.
  • Local call centres.
  • Pre vs. iPhone articles.
  • Inability to purchase/download Pandora, Kindle, apps for iPhone here in Australia.
  • No stone and mortar record stores stocking anything I want to purchase.
  • Websites with lists on them.
  • Getting the shits over minor annoyances like iPhones/Advertisements.
  • Wankers who tailgate me in the wet and then attempt to overtake using the same lane I am in and who then spit abuse at me for not going faster than the speed limit. Did I mention it was pissing-down rain?

Right, I am going to find something to calm me the fuck down. G’night everybody.

I Can See You, Can You See Me?

Wednesday, April 29th, 2009

Aposematism is about, and I am nicking this from Wikipedia, the warning markings that bumblebees and the like have. So, because of this, we associate certain colours (black, yellow and orange) in a particular way and it gets used on all sorts of warning signs to try and keep us safe from harm.

So, this bumblebee warns other animals not to eat or attack it:

Eric's full brother.

This Bumblebee warns you about raping my childhood memories just to sell inferior toys:

Not a Camaro

These warnings should need no explanation:

It's a blast, Skip.

Which then brings us to the most important device for warning us in these modern times:

Hi-visibility is SAFE.

Yep, the hi-ves vest/jacket.

It is a Godsend for the sane, gentle person who doesn’t want to deal with backward thinking, selfish, illiterate scum (no offence is intended to the models in the stolen pictures above, for all I know they know how to read).

When I see that reflective yellow or orange, I know not to expect original thought (or any thought for that matter) from the psuedo-person incased within. I can safely assume there will be a bunch of stickers approximating the Southern Cross* on the back of their car/truck/ute. I know his/her children’s names will be vowel-less versions of Braydon or Brooklyn.

And, I know I will have nothing in common with or to say to them apart from “Oi, you just ran that red light” or “Jesus Christ, there are two lanes for a reason, dipshit” or “FUCKING HELL DID YOU EVEN SEEN ME BEFORE YOU DID THAT?”, but only from the safety of my car.

* Stay tuned for the launch of my campaign to get the Southern Cross renamed The Bogan Stars

This is what the world is for.

Tuesday, April 7th, 2009

A friend online acquaintance I met through a friend who I met via a website that is a figment of my imagination asked if she should go see MGMT when they tour where she is.

I said no.

Now, this online acquaintance is a very pretty young thing.  A wonderful, youthful spring flower of a bud of a woman, but she will be like a grandmotherly old crone compared to all the blonde tipped little wankers who are there to hear one fucking song they downloaded off whatever P2P site fucking little blonde tipped wankers use these days, and they will think the song is called something else because the ID3 tags are all messed up and then I will end up in jail she will end up being arrested for stabbing 5 or 6 of the little blonde tipped fuckers in a blind rage.

I don’t want to sound all “damn kids, get off my lawn” and I know it was no different for the elderly hating us young ones  when I was going to shows as a youth, but I don’t remember people being so completely fuckwitty about music back then.  I don’t remember the majority of people going to concerts only going because it was a social event they were expected to attend, they went because they liked the bands or their friends liked the bands. It was all about the music, man.

Whinge, moan, complain, whine, groan etc.

P.S. MGMT are great, but they have become over saturated. I bet you can’t make it all the way through this.

But it’s not very clear.

Thursday, March 26th, 2009

Here is the thing, I am all for fashion.

I am also a complete brand whore.

But even I have to draw the line somewhere.

Normally when I get my line drawing pen out, it’s sour grapes over the latest “in” fashion not being aimed at an old man like me, or a line of clothes that will never, ever fit my “husky” frame. But occasionally (ever so occasionally) it happens due to good taste. Or that my taste is not bad enough.

Either way, this is one of those times. I can’t even start to begin to wonder about complaining about what is wrong with these LOVA Trouser Shorts. I can’t. I am not even going to in-line a picture of them because that would involve looking at them again just to load the image, and every time I load my own site I would be faced with the depraved, rank horribleness which would surely result in me never, ever coming back here.

You might think that is a good thing.

You might be right.

But fuck you. Seriously, I paid for the domain. I paid for the hosting. I can do what I like. No, no, no, I’m sorry, please don’t go. I don’t mean to be so grumpy, it’s just that those shorts make me want to punch someone in the head over and over and over again until all that is left is a fine paste of face covering my fists.

And that shit is hard to clean off. Apparently.

We’re watching the world pass us by.

Friday, February 13th, 2009

Dear Gods, I am shallow. And highly self-interested.

Know why? When the world is falling apart and burning down around us, I allow myself to get upset about the cancellation of a car that hadn’t even been officially announced.

So, good bye what might have been the next Nissan Silvia, good bye.

The boys in DAAS used to have a little routine that involved Richard’s life being like a paddling pool. Richard joked that is was “shallow” but that you could always “deep end” on him.

Don’t try and depend on me, mine is full of piss.

And I swear to you that I would never feed you pain.

Friday, February 6th, 2009

Hey, remember I posted that thing about Australia’s Most Interesting People Who Use Twitter To Be Interesting With?

Well, turns out I might have been wrong about thinking they weren’t very interesting. I mean, now I know that Chris Cornell just had shrimp, I don’t think I will find anything interesting ever again.

Thank you, CelebrityTweet.

A moment that is frozen as we hang in time.

Monday, February 2nd, 2009

@twitterusers omg have u seen this article on News? i wish i was boring enough to be considered interesting.