Posts tagged ‘shit’

Windows 10. Phone issues.

I have the misfortune of having to work with Windows 10 at the office now.

It looks neat I gotta say, but what is it like working with it?

Like you’re driving a horse drawn, silk saddled carriage that has the break constantly drawn, through a stoney desert.

It looks good, but boy is it a shitty and bumpy ride.

In other news, my Asus Zenfone Max Z010d hit the bucket. First the wifi wouldn’t connect. Ever. Then it was stuck in a bootloop.

Several attempts of lay (and lame) hacking/flashing it later, I got it briefly up to running again. I had to finish my setup. Language selection, okay. Keyboard layout, okay. Do you want to use SIM and Wifi, or just Wifi? Obviously, both.

Reboot into the bootloop.

It won’t let me replace the bootloader, or the operating system. So far. I will either completely brick it, or crack it like an egg:

Here it is held at gunpoint.

So. Technical issues aside, everything’s peachy. Gotta go now, today’s my kid’s birthday.

Take care, A.

PS, yes, last week’s app idea was inspired by the expanse. 😉

Raw Water

The newest fad from the “wholesome”* crowd.
In short it is untreated water.
The chief lunatic behind this looks like he is in bed with the headspace idiot – both metaphorically and literally. How many people have died from dysentery and cholera from untreated “clean looking” water since the turn of the millennium alone (let’s ignore Oregon trail times)?
What baffles me is, how did we get from “We don’t want untreated water that the deer, bears and forest hermits piss and shit in” to this shit??
How did we get from “We want hospitals with nurses, doctors, clean sheets, vaccines and medicine” to “better chew on some rabbit droppings, drink turpentine and bleach, smear mud on the wound”???
This is your flock of black sheep, political left, these are your people. Reign them in, otherwise the political right wins.

It is cases like this I ask myself why I am burdened with a conscience. I could design neat jugs and sell virgin water – untreated spring water that big titted blond virgins bathed in before it was bottled. Improves your health, increases your attractiveness for women, and your sexual stamina for men.

I’d be rich.
Filthy rich.
Excuse me.
I have to draft a few things and apply for a loan…
Take care, A.
*bat shit crazy, without insulting bats, feces our people no longer in possession of their faculties

Crappy Birthday in September 

Quite literally. 

For the city dwellers who can’t get enough of that sweet, sweet guano producing fowl that is ever omnipresent in urban areas the world over. 

Pigeons. 

Fathered crap bags. Cast in stone…or clay. 

“It reminded me of you.” Normally this can be a quite romantic line, but with this, you can tell a yuppie what you think of them. Urban crap bag. Ucrab. 

Crappy Birthday! A.

Crappy Birthday in August 2017

Got that detestable garbage human Hipster scum in your circle of acquaintances?

Their birthday is coming up?

PERFECT!

These revolting socks are the perfect gift, for a perfect asshole. They will surely like it, because it is before they are cool, because they’ll never be cool. And these socks a shining (or screamingly loud) warning beacon. 

Warn others. Gift these socks.

Crappy Birthday.
A.

BTH – ASMR…

Why is this even a thing?

These are people who do not know how to use a microphone: they’re breathing into one as if they wanted to either swallow, or make sweet sweet love to it.
That is NOT how you use a mic, dumbass.

I’m not one to deny others their kink, far from it, but you wankers want the “girlfriend experience” – without the “experience” part.
You see, afaik, some prostitutes offer “the girlfriend experience” (for extra of course), and then you get cuddling, kissing, sweet talk, and what not (I imagine). There you get an actual experience.
With this crap you get no experience.

If I were one to go on business trips around the globe, so when I lay my weary CEO head down to cry on a cushion stuffed with stacks of cash while I pleasure myself to sleep, my beloved trophy wife is not able to lull me through it on the phone thanks to timezones, I’d have her breathe into a mic for half an hour, nude, and then play that video back to me.
I am not.
These people are not near and dear to me.
On the polar opposite.
They are complete and utter fraking strangers!
Making all of this a little creepy…

I would almost understand this, if it were porn [porn-porn. Not this brain-porn crap that someone equated this bullshit to]:
A naked chick (or guy, what have you), giving an imaginary protagonist (the camera) a POV girlfriend experience.
With sweet talk, breathing into a microphone, sensual descriptive talk about what they ‘are doing’ with you, complete with ‘noise’.

But this is people breathe-talking in the most annoying fashion possible [not whispered, not spoken, but the dimwitted bastard offspring of the two, that’s too loud and pronounced to be soothing or comfortable, but too low and hushed to be easily intelligible], making noise too close to the microphone [if I for example were to crave the sound of a girl brushing her long long hair, I want to hear it like normal people hear it, not the way a mic taped to the back of the brush picks it up!], and saying the most ridiculously mundane crap ever [if you have no one in your life you can talk about bowel movements with, stop the ASMR, quit your busy job and get friends and/or a spouse, because that is what you NEED]!

Get outta here!

But note, after this election I understand everyone who needs to get relaxed in any way shape or form.

Complimentary Newspaper…

20160917_054821-1.jpg

Flipping through a complimentary newspaper on a Sunday is a fun adventure sometimes.

THIS is the winner of the 2012 interior innovation award.

The WINNER.

Two things here.
A. What repulsive pieces of trash were submitted, but rejected?
B. The flowchart of tastelessness is as follows:
1. the people who designed this. As we are in the 21st century, I have to assume it was not just ONE person, but a conglomerate of people. Probably some studio or “bureau” of “artists”…
2. the folks who approved of this “design” and gave a green light for production, ignoring the malignent tumors forming on their cornea.
3. advertising department “people” calling this ensemble of poles and barrs innovative,  and entering the design into a contest.
4. the committee awarding the IIA to this piece.
5. the degenerates in the press who decided to print (and praise) this with terms like “Design-Highlight”.
Four years later.
Maybe 6. people who read this, and went out to waste their money on some metal and “polystone”, just to have a nifty new holding aparatus for the material they wipe shit from their asses with…

Symbol of hope?

First off, so you know where I come from:
I am socially incompetent.
I am bad with people.

Talking, especially outside groups of flamboyant extroverts and lunatic introverts, is not my thing.
Even online.

Talking about my minor accomplishments is not my thing. Praising my own work as if it’s the next best thing to sliced bread (or the great pyramids, since sliced bread is mundane shit), not my cup of tea.
Small talk about absolutely mundane crap without consequence to me, others, or the world, is beyond my abilities, beyond my understanding.

So, this morning, just like last week a few times, I see the symbol of hope pop up on my Tablet’s task bar:
The all familiar WordPress ‘W’.

A like?
A new follower?
(With dread in my mind) A comment?

No.
“Your scheduled post has been published! Spread the word!” Frak you!

I made the connections to my social media outlets so I wont have to spread the word about my posts myself.
That’s your job now.
Because I can’t praise my stuff, because I can’t do people stuff.
This made me anxious.
No like, no follower, not even a comment.
Just this crap that would send me out doing the social stuff, that I can’t do and outsourced to automated bots.

Where’s my “Triggor worning!!”?

Speaking of senseless trigger shit. Or stuff that the special snowflakes should (and surely are already) cry about having a trigger warning.
Facebook memories.

Oh yeah sure, another Fecesbook rant, how original…

Let me elaborate a bit, a dear friend of mine died. FB-Memories drudged up a post said friend commented on. Made me feel a bit blue that this friend will never again comment on something I post.
Trigger warning?

I’m the last person calling for trigger warnings, I hate that shit. Life does not come with trigger warnings.
Suppose your dad hanged himself on an Oak tree? Do you expect/demand trigger warnings at each oak tree? Of course not.
That’d be lunacy.
So why should anything else contain that shit then?
It shouldn’t.
Period.

On that note, trigger warning, this post ends now,
Take care, A.