Like this

After a busy day making trees appear and making boxes disappear, I have fifteen minutes until my new favourite programme of the moment, Taskmaster, is on TV. I know that it’s awfully old-fashioned to be tied to a TV schedule when there are so many new-fangled ways of accessing visual content, but sometimes we need to go back to our roots and those halcyon pre-streaming times; to remind ourselves to stay grounded in this age of on-demand satisfaction.

Talking of on-demand satisfaction in the digital age, here are a couple of absolutely corking observations on that very theme:

[Oh wow. Neat segue.

This one, via The Guru, brilliantly documenting our need for instant digital gratification via social media, what happens when we fall short of the mark (as we nearly always seem to do), and how there is still (real) life after no likes.

By the light of a phone screen, a little egg created a social media account.
One Sunday, the warm sun came up and — snap! — out of the egg emerged a very thirsty caterpillar, who posted an artfully disheveled selfie #wokeuplikethis.

And then this tweet, which simply explains what happens when things go right for any of your given posts, tweets or ‘grams:

Please press the button. I’m always in need of TGC.

And that’s why I’m off to watch Greg and Alex now.

[Oh wow. Neat segue. Again.
Thanks. Again.]

Public wifi warning

I don’t use it, and neither should you.

In less than 20 minutes, here’s what we’ve learned about the woman sitting 10 feet from us: where she was born, where she studied, that she has an interest in yoga, that she’s bookmarked an online offer for a anti-snore mantras, recently visited Thailand and Laos, and shows a remarkable interest in sites that offer tips on how to save a relationship.

Bit pushed for time this evening, so here’s a link I read earlier.
Eye opening.

Opt out

I received an SMS from motoring company Subaru this evening. I’d imagine that they have my number because we looked at buying a Subaru, before eventually not buying a Subaru. But they make you fill in all the information for marketing purposes (like this SMS) before you get to see the goods, and you comply, because you want to stay on the good side of the salesperson, just in case.

Decent deal, and… no… wait. That’s not why we’re here.

You’ll note that the sms has an link at the bottom. I chose to use it.
I’ve moved on since I signed up with Subaru. (Great car, small boot.)

It (the link, not the car) took me a site where I had to enter the cellphone number that they contacted me on. Fair enough – that’s clearly a only a campaign (9930) specific link. I entered my number.

On the next screen, they made me read the SMS message that they’d just sent me. That was a bit odd, since if it was the wrong message, there was no option to say “er… actually no – that wasn’t it”; there was just a continue button at the bottom. But ok, I’ll jump through your weird hoops. I clicked the button.

And when I clicked it, I got this:

“If you receive another sms from the current campaigns [sic] kindly ignore it.”

Wut? Really? Time for this gif, I think:

If I wanted to just ignore “another sms from the current campaigns [sic]”, I would have done exactly that. I don’t want to receive the sms to ignore.

That’s kind of the point.

I want to opt out. (It’s a difficult concept to grasp, I know.)

I’m no legal beagle, but I’m pretty sure that this really isn’t how this works.
This isn’t how any of this works.

I’m going to be on the lookout for another sms from the current campaigns [sic] and then when I get one, I am going to sue Subaru for every last cent that they have be really rather irritated about the whole thing.

Honestly, how difficult can this sort of stuff be?

Trying to edit

I’m trying to do some editing for a work project, but I’m struggling. Yesterday, out of necessity, I did a lot of tidying and rearranging of the garage space. It was a mess and – while it is still a mess – I have at least thrown some of that mess away and put a lot more of it behind some cupboard doors. My car now fits.


Much of the job involved a lot of dust, and I’m still struggling with sore eyes and an itchy upper respiratory system. I dread to think what sort of particles I’ve inhaled and/or got into my eyes, and what the long term effects of those might be, because the short term effects really aren’t pretty. It’s a real effort to focus (not mentally, literally focus my eyes in the screen) for any length of time.

Even writing this is quite sore.
I’m such a martyr.

I think I’m going to have to go and relax in a darkened room with a couple of slices of cucumber.

In a gin and tonic.

BZN concert

I have been receiving SO MANY EMAILS this week about Dutch band BZN’s upcoming concerts in South Africa. They arrived in Cape Town this morning and they play here tomorrow evening, and then up in Johannesbeagle over the weekend. And I’m not saying that ticket sales have not been going well, but:

1. The tickets are now buy one get one free, and
2. They’re emailing me about it.

I had never heard of BZN, and now I know why.

Target audience be damned.

But what could have gone wrong, when they’re being supported by Nadine, Manie Jackson (no relation) and Christo & Cobus*? And when BZN have given us such hits as Love’s Like A River:

and Amore:

Sweet Baby Cheeses. It’s like a really bad ABBA.
And ABBA are really bad already.

If this is your idea of great music, get yourself (and your freebie +1) along to one of their gigs. That way, the clearly desperate promoters might stop emailing me about them.

* Interestingly, the other three support acts are Juanita du Plessis, Franja… er… du Plessis and… erm… Ruan Josh (whose full name is Ruan Josh du Plessis). Truly a family full of sh… owmanship.