Oh yes, I've worked it out but beholders don't see it. 

 

Its the local not the ems (though we don't call 'em that round here), more Golum than Troll

There's none so blind as he who will not see (although David Blunkett might disagree).

 

What do you call them, then?

Oh! How disappointing. I was looking forward to some suitably cryptic yet disparaging epithet.

 

Surely you must have some sort of cajun dialect in the bayous of EA?

Sorry, I'm brain-dead at the mo. Too apathetic to come up with any epithets.  Some people, when the work is piling up, go into busy bee mode - I go more the ostrich solution and hope it will all go away. Didn't help that today my 'puter has been playing up and Helpdesk Man has gone AWOL.  Not much b****y use talking to an ansafone when you want someone to mend the electronic wizardry.  It was a stark choice between leaving off early (couldn't do owt) or chucking the thing out of the window............so I left early. 

 

We went birding yesterday and saw a Golden Oriel.  Oh, that reminds me, how are the Cornish Choughs doing.  We signed up to be emailed about their progress but haven't heard anything since we got back here. 

Shouldn't that be 'epithetic', then? Speaking from my experiences when I had a proper job, if you really want to get on in the white-collar world what you need to do is:-

 

As little as possible, while telling everyone else how busy you are, let all the work pile up then move to another better paid job just before the faeces hit the ventilation. Just repeat the process until you become full-on management and then retire to a working world of golf days, junkets and fact-finding missions to Barbados.

 

If it's any consolation the computer helpdesk probably wouldn't have been any use to you anyway. The outfit I used to work for had theirs in Glasgow. You couldn't understand a word they said ..... and that was just when the receptionist answered the phone, let alone when they actually tried to talk computer tech to you!

 

I think the choughs (Lizard ones anyway, no one seemed quite sure what happened to the Paradise Park ones) are still around, although I doubt, even given the vast resources poured into the chough project by the birdophiles, whether they have yet mastered the art of using e-mail!

A-epithetic ashley but that's a bit un-aesthetic. 

 

The brilliant bit about our helpdesk, which is a mere 7 miles away in Norfolk, is that you get an ansafone, or voicemail as we must now call it, so that's as much use as a chocolate teapot; or the suggestion that you should email them - bonza idea BUT my computer has frozen.  This afternoon it was feeling a bit better having slept from 5p.m. yesterday to 1 p.m. today.( No, I wasn't on a jolly.  I was working at a different site)  So I managed to send an email saying that unless someone talked to me, examined my computer and made it better I might as well go home as I couldn't do anything. Upshot is someone will at some stage in the hopefully not too distant future dain to hack down the A12 and look at said sad computer.  Chances are, knowing my luck, I won't be there to explain and the thing will work perfectly. Progress? Pah!  Where's my quill and ink pot?

 

You underestimate their intelligence.  If I can do it, so can they.

 

Did you see the photomontage of Beckham and Jonny Wilkinson? Where Jonny is explaining that he kicks the ball over the bar and scores so they win. And the thought bubble above Beckham's head says "Ball. Bar. Over. Win"  Well I thought it was amusing, just about sums up my feelings about the "beautiful game", not to mention the England captain. 

 

BM's cooking tonight - wey hey!  I've been swimming and got home to find it all prepared. Aahhh!

Quick, then, have another swig of anaesthetic!

 

Aah, if you've read them the riot act then that almost certainly guarantees that when the repairman turns up the computer will be working perfectly normally. It's no use trying to asopt a logical approach to computer problem-solving, they are the most irrational and temperamental beasts I know. I once had one that for a while would work when its chassis was standing up (i.e. all the internal widgets were at 90 degrees to the ground) but not when it was lying flat (when the widgets were the right way up)!

 

Yes, but this is Cornwallshire, remember. They may not have access to broadband, computers or, probably, electricity.

 

So, what you're saying is that you've got too blokes talking balls and certain disaster follows. Hardly news, there!

    Was going to anyway , its after 6p.m.

 

Had a watch like that - it would only work when it was face down.

 

Nor have we.  Its supposed to be up and running in 3 weeks...............................

 

How can a bloke be too male? Unless, of course, he's Antonio B

No, it's not. It's half past eight in the morning. Honestly, you're as bad as Gill when it comes to your timezone management!

 

How could you tell the time then? Did you have to stick it to the ceiling?

 

What? Electricity? Next you'll be getting fire and the wheel (although the latter will probably not be much use in the swamps).

 

Antonio Bandaid? He's a pussy. Well, he is in Shrek 2 anyway. I meant to say two, of course, although with Beckham involved maybe that should have been twit-two!

Its not us guv.  I reckon there's some sort of timewarp associated with the Tamar

 

No broadband. 

 

I know he is. That's prob'ly why I was thinking about him - I'd been listening to an interview about S2

 

BM's stuck somewhere twixt here and the Gracie Fields Memorial Black Pudding Factory, so lord knows what time he'll get back.

Yes, but that operates in century-sized differences, not a just a few hours.

 

Which is odd when you consider you've always had the broads, just needed someone to provide the bands. Rubber, presumably, given the way the internet usually seems to vaguely work.

 

Poor old BM. Not only does he have to face a hard day selling fire escapes (Would it matter if a fire broke out in a black pudding factory? They're already black anyway!) but he then returns to find you've been spending the time thinking about AB.

No we haven't.  They aren't all that old in the scheme of things, they're just old peat diggings.  Latexfree zone so have to use some sythetic-y stuff.

 

I'm sure he'd rather that I'd been day-dreaming about some unattainable guy, star of stage, screen and a catsassin to boot, than getting down and dirty with the milkman. 

Talking of latex ..... I overheard on Radio Terrapin that the Tour of Frank is about to kick (pedal?) off. So, presumably we'll see/hear from you again in a few weeks time. That's if you haven't gone blind from spending 24 hours a day watching them shake their lycra-clad booties!

 

You've still got milkmen there?