Author Al Brown

Cryptodowngrades!

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January 18th 2018 9:45pm

I know I’ve not ranted in a while but just another thing, updates or rather cryptodowngrades!
Recently my iPhone and laptop have come up with the usual, updates ready for your pleasure. No, it’s just Microsoft and Apple sodding well slowing down your devices, and that’s been proven to be true. I denied the Apple iPhone update with a knowing snigger. The bloody phone then bullies me into having to log on using my 200-digit access code every time I want to call someone. What’s the matter with my greasy thumb print? For two weeks this game of chicken continues until I accidentally press the wrong button, damn it, and there it goes updating away like a sodding smug teenager. Eventually the update finishes, my iPhone is now out of date, my children have grown up, left home and I find myself in an old people’s home dribbling into my pureed lunch. I press the thumb button it lights up and, well that’s it, it just lights up an I piss my pants.
The same with my laptop. I refrain from turning it off, instead I just close the lid delicately like defusing a WW2 bomb hoping that the Windows update will just go away, it doesn’t. When I log on it says in optimistic typeface, hi there welcome to your new Windows Experience. Bollocks got me! Just like those suited gentlemen who try and introduce you to the Mormon faith, the Lighthouse Magazine or Betterwear kitchen products. Yep my favourite homepage of the Royal Family has gone and instead shows a lurid Windows logo. Thanks, you twatz! The new Windows update has slowed down my laptop, rearranged my files and now every time I try and open something, I’m forced to enter my 200-digit access code. It’s great, I’ve now a 3D editor I didn’t want, an American Amtrak update railroad timetable folder and a fast track dildo ordering service. If I want updates, I’ll ask for them you pushy fat interrupting b’stards. Who are you to say what I want on my personal media devices. Leave me to my Windows basic package that should last a lifetime and forget slowing down my laptop so that it performs slower that a piece of chalk and slate. Piss off updates! Piss off corporate America! Piss off you pubescent computer freaks! Piss off marital aid updates! Then last but not least I slowly type… Piss off Apple & Microsoft!

Masterchef!

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May 4th 2017 10:46 pm

Another thing Masterchef!
Octopus; everyone’s favourite these days? Yeah right, I love the odd cephalopod mollusc with fried eggs in the morning for brekkie. Just love all those legs and suckers. Oh, and a mushroom fungal ant excrement jus to enhance its aquatic subtleties?
Pan fried osprey spleens in goldfinch spiced urine drizzled over a CO2 frozen deadly nightshade salad as a starter seemed a little passé and predictable.
The main was chameleon testicles opened as flowers and presented on a bed of badger ovaries looked tempting but the emulsion of freshwater dolphin sperm seemed a little bland and sticky.
The winner was the last course, chocolatt de skunk faeces on a wafer of dried hornets drizzled with 2.8cc of gestating woodlice sweat was a complete winner.
No No No go to Wetherspoon’s and eat some proper grub at a proper price you pretentious culinary dicks! Eat posh nosh and five gives you ten that you pop into Ali’s Alcove on the way home to make sure that your empty tummies are full, even though your snobby stuck up wallets are completely empty.

Options Denied!

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June 6th 2017 7:40 pm

Another thing:-
Decided to play a DVD and in the machine it goes like a reluctant letter. Then instead of going straight to the main menu it starts with 32 adverts for other films I have no interest in viewing. Ten minutes I actually get to the main menu and I start the film, by the way I would have clicked through these but that option was denied with a sinister red OPTION DENIED symbol. The film starts with a cornucopia of different companies who were apparently involved in the making. Touchstone then New Line Cinema then Pixar then Warner Bros then Miramax and Dreamworks. Blimey there’s more companies than cast members.
It’s a bit like the trial by combat of going to the cinema. They tell you to arrive and the film starts at 19:30 but no! Dada dada dada d’da da da da dada dada dada aaaaoooaaagh ah! Sodding Pearl & Dean adverts for 45 minutes. Then the lights come up you purchase a cardboard tub o ice cream and a Kia-Ora, finally the lights go down and the main feature starts. Nope they start with adverts for up and coming newly released movies! Once the main feature does actually start you want a piss and you miss half the film trying to find the men’s room like Peters & Lee searching for a blackboard in a coal cellar! All I want to do is watch a film not waste half my remaining life experiencing banal and vacuous advertising.
Let your dreams run wild in an exciting, welcoming, enchanting, friendly and aromatic restaurant close to this very cinema. Yes the Taj Mahal in Boutport St all advertised with the sound of an out of tune sitar. Or, do you want to be trendy at the discotheque? Do you want to look your best dancing to the latest combos from the hit parade, wearing the latest London fashions? Then why not visit The Baron in Holland Walk etc etc etc. I only ever wanted was to JUST watch a sodding film! 

Considering Consideration!

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February 16th 2018 8:39 pm

And another thing…
After a visit to the Doctors my mother said could she visit Tesco and purchase some of their delightful pasties. We arrived and searched for a disabled parking space, not many at Tescos I may add. Eventually we found one and just as we were going to park, a lady in a black Audi drove straight in. Luckily I parked in a nearby space and said to the lady in passing, quite politely for me that is, ‘Excuse me, if you don’t mind me saying, my mother requires a disabled parking space and you obviously don’t. You need to think about that in the future.’
She looked me in the eye, sighed in a patronising way and said quite calmly, ‘Why don’t you and your mother just f’ck off!’
For the next hour we kept bumping into her in the shopping isles and each time we met I said, ‘Have a good day Madam and I hope you’re enjoying your shopping experience!’
Two things, it amazes me how many lazy people drive around supermarket car parks waiting to get a space within 6.5mm from the front doors. This takes them 10 minutes to do this, you can park at the far end of the car park and walk to the front doors in 47 seconds!
The second thing is how selfish shoppers are, they jostle you, reach across you, rabbit punch you at the mark down food area and finally smash your trolley out of the way to get to the check out first. I only want a little consideration and politeness doh!

Russian Thrash Metal Bonanza!

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March 16th 2018 5:21 pm

Went to a rather busy Wetherspoon’s for lunch with my dearest and had the usual, sad to say the staff have us on speed dial and check out was done in 1.234 seconds. We retired to a rather posh booth with a luxurious iPhone charging point and dimmer switch. A few people came in and in their wildest dreams thought that we might be leaving so they took up temporary base camps close by in advantageous sprinting positions. Someone asked, ‘Are you going yet, if so could you please piss off soon?’
We decided to leave, got up and walked a step, and as forty people jostled into position, we sat down again pretending to play on our iPhones. Mayhem ensued like some weird rugby scrum down. With a smile we finally rose and two Polish girls laughed, got the joke and slipped into a warm booth for lunch.
We then visited Cex to peruse their DVDs, whilst we did so we were assaulted with 250 db of lumpy bumpy music of some Russian thrash metal bonanza. With bleeding eyes and ears we decided to leave before we both died. Please don’t judge us for our next point of call.
We decided for tonight, let’s go to Iceland, get some cream, strawberries, raspberries and take out a small loan for some meringues from Warrens. After a four hour flight we selected said ingredients and were faced with the usual 300 people in a single queue staring at one checkout person. But wait things are looking up, there is a family who’s gene-pool is spectacular and I decided to observe, in a professional capacity of course. My wife decided I was staring far too much with my mouth far too open so after a subtle kick in the ankle was dispatched to Warrens for the meringues. Gutted, I did as I was told and was given two free iced Danish cakes for my trouble with which the twins will benefit. Aghhhhh what is my life coming toooo?

An Uncomfortable Man!

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February 27th 2018 8:22 pm

Today was somewhat chilly & snowy so I decided to wear a pair of counterfeit Calvin Klein long johns I purchase whilst living in Hong Kong nearly 30 years ago. They still fit although the elastic somewhat compromised and they felt a little odd underneath my trousers. Anyway I dressed in a rush and off we went perusing new gas hobs & MDF art boards. One of the legs of my long johns felt a little strange and kept riding up so now and again I had to tug it down again; I’m sure people thought I must have a continence problem. After a walk into Barnie my wife and I were returning home when she said, ‘What’s that stuck on your shoe?’ I looked down to see yesterday’s pants and a withered sock hanging out of one of my trouser legs. Not a great look I admit, now where’s the application for that warden controlled flat?

Green!

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March 3rd 2018 7:58 pm

GREEN!:- On holiday this week and after day two my wife mentions how lucky I’ve been to escape a cold this year. That flu jab really works she says. Half an hour after saying this I sneeze then cough, within an hour I feel like I’ve been driven over by two Sainsbury’s lorries who’s drivers are playing Candy Crush on their mobile phones. Three days of wasps up my nose, sneezing and streaming blurred eyes I’ve developed an urging, hacking cough better that any seal lion or dog; irritating bronchitis has been the outcome! Now this morning my lungs could take it no longer I had to get out of bed early and come downstairs to barf a lung up in the kitchen. First spasmodic coughing fit produced an lump of green the size of poached egg. With streaming eyes I had a sip of water only to have another attack of productive barking, with a massive cough I spotted, just as my eyes closed, another lump of green shoot out across the kitchen. For the next half an hour I desperately searched for the said green, this was somewhat reminiscent of that scene in the film Something About Mary. Aching back muscles and streaming eyes didn’t help my desperate almost forensic search. I hunted through the dishes on the draining board, the curtains, the extractor fan, even under the cooker on my hand and knees like some blind beggar…no green! I eventually had to give up and with growing concern decided to have a hot bath to ease my plague ridden body. I ran the taps and got ready to dip into the inviting warm water. Then to my utter relief what did I see hanging off the back of my little finger, yes the missing lump of sticky green. After washing my hands I relaxed into a warm bath with the reassuring feeling that no one in my family would find my missing expectorate dangling off their breakfast plate!

Aspect Ratio A Gogo!

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October 20th 2018 11:30am

An, anon, another thing, we decided that because Tesco were having a discount sale we would go and purchase a larger flat screen television for our lounge (that’s front room for you working class types) a 40″ would be perfect. We arrived and quickly selected a slightly larger 43″ at a knock down Brucey Bargain.
Arrived back home unpacked said screen to discover that it was actually smaller than we thought. It was actually 38″ instead of 43″ actually 5″ narrower than expected, A level maths has always become useful in such situations. As this rantikins unfolds some of you are way ahead of me here!
I thought I’d just give them a ring in the morning to complain but before hand peruse the net to see if there were any more unhappy customers. I discovered that since the 50s TVs were measured ‘DIAGONALLY’, this portrays their dimensions more impressively. There was no mention of this on the box with reference to a diagonal line saying 48″. Con! Con! Con! My dad must have known this! He probably did because the first TVs were round and measured diagonally but as the screens widened and became more square the diagonal measurement remained to the benefit of the manufactures and shops.
Why not just state the dimensions as 38 x 21″ actual screen size or 39 x 22″ overall dimensions? Perhaps screen width of 38″?. How the bloody hell are you supposed to measure an aperture or cabinet accurately to fit a TV? Here is the simple equation to work out your TV’s dimension from a diagonal measurement. The following formula is for the present standard aspect ratio of 16:9

Square the diagonal=(d^2).
TV Height is “Square Root” of [9x{(d^2)/25}].
TV Width is “Square Root” of [16x{(d^2)/25}].

And you all said at school, ‘When will we ever use f’king algebra in real life?’ My A Level Maths has certainly benefited here, it’s just me though isn’t it?

Dada Exhibition at Wetherspoons!

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May 3rd 2018 8:56 pm

Henri Robert Marcel Duchamp your urinal changed art forever! Now I haven’t ranted for a while so gird your loins, deeps breaths and here goes! The topic of tonight’s sermon and discussion is Wetherspoons lavatories! I’m having a meal n a beer, like you do and decide that perhaps it’s time to evacuate my bladder of excessive beer induced urine. I wander up to said lavatory and gently urinate into, oddly enough, a porcelain urinal with a signature on the side saying R. Mutt 1917. This urinal has a weird green, holey, plastic mat in the bottom that’s supposed to eliminate the stench of an impending bacterial bloc party whilst at the same time saving valuable water. Well nope it doesn’t. I wee with the acrid stench of rotting piss, smeg & groin BO permeating my nasal turbinates. But I endure to see practically every bloke leave that lavatory without washing their grubby smeg smeared hands. I came to this decision because if you can’t be bothered to wash your hands after urinating you’re hardly going to pull your foreskin back and wash it when you shower, it’s the person’s lazy attitude that determines this! Also, at my age it takes a little while to achieve complete micturition so I’ve observed two or three hundred blokes behaviour in one standing. I digress, I finish, then wash my hands and attempt to leave. The trouble is the two exshit doors have pull handles so how do I escape without contaminating my clean hands? Quite a dilemma! I can see smegma, urine and perhaps dried sperm on said handles so what to do? I try opening it with my foot. With my knee, even with my big nose. Then, to my relief, someone comes in and I make a break for it like a perverted cottager escaping the scene of an anal crime! The bloke entering the bog reaches out as if trying to catch a bag snatcher, but he misses me. I then gently jog down over the stairs expecting shouts of arrest that man or floor the pervert. I join my wife to continue my meal with a new found uneasiness. Will the dirty fingered blokes from the stenchy bog try and search me out? I did like the varied and thematic colours of the durex machines by the way, almost contraceptual art! Dada!

Bude Canal Mist with Goya!

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May 7th 2018 8:46pm

We decided this Saturday to go down to the Weir Cafe and walk along the canal into Bude. Along the Atlantic Highway we could see billowing clouds of sea mist in the valleys and on the horizon like some impending nuclear cloud approaching. Should we just go back home and sit in the garden and pick our noses? Consensus was unanimously undecided so we finally arrived at the Weir Cafe.
It was bloody freezing there and all I had was a t shirt to wear, oh and trousers etc of course. We walked into the freezing fog like Spanish refugees expecting to see body parts dangling from the trees as in some Goya-esque horror etching. Our space blankets rustled as eerie silhouettes of figures like Ringwraiths could be seen now and again bobbing out in the spiralling mist. Finally Bude appeared out of the frozen sea pea soup and we decided to visit the shops as we had no idea where the beach was.
This was a great mistake, most of Bude was closed for Sunday! It’s a busy Bank Holiday weekend, time to make loads of money, yet they’ve all closed for the day; typical Cornish business, or could they be all at church? We decided against the £5 local pasties as £20 is not quite the price I’d like to pay for a quite snack! Back to the canal where loads of motor bikers were stroking and licking each other’s spotless machines . They’ve all got supercharged racing bikes that are only to be taken out if there’s sunshine, no rain and it’s exactly 18 degrees C. Then it’s out for a predictable Sunday in their colourful gimp leathers and a quick ride down to the Bude Canal for rancid corn oil chips and anaemic tea. After half an hour they’re home again to spend the rest of the day washing and bedding down their bikes. This is followed by spanking each other with discarded rolled up chip wrappers and having kinky sexy in their Suzuki leathers.
We decided to leave this ghost town and felt our way back along the canal in the freezing fog like Blind Pew. Finally we left misty Weir Cafe and just as we arrived back at Clovelly Cross the sun appeared. Not to self, don’t sodding go anywhere on a bank holiday just stay in the garden and stare at the the lump of purple pigeon poo on the decking!

As a footnote, I’ve had to throw a t shirt away because due to the cold my stiff nipples wore a hole through the material!