Woodford Reserve

Sod it, I'll add a drink to the food order; the tablets say I can have a drink!

Woodford Reserve rye whiskey.

There is no contraindication so don't worry, but I doubt the manufacturer would want to encourage irresponsible behaviour. No, in answer to the question I sense forming, the tablets don't talk to me, that'd be a bit weird.

Home Alone

Most people faced with a day off, and family away during a school holiday week would, I'd guess, go insane and do all kinds of exciting things.

Today I ran out of Earl Grey tea and burnt last night's pizza instead of gently reheating it in the oven.

The highlight of my day then has been the successful, if well overdue, defrosting of the freezer. During the mammoth session I discovered that the ice above the top serpentine had built to such a thickness and expanded to such a degree that it'd pulled out one of its supporting bracket screws. The left front one! Danger, mild peril! And the thermocouple is a bit floppy now but seems to work; no signs of an impending ice age yet.

Incidentally, IKEA-Whirlpool didn't make frost-free fridge-freezers when we put the kitchen in.



Dishwasher: sequel (sweary, NSFW words)

We needed a new dishwasher. We have a new dishwasher, bought from a well-known Scandinavian flat-pack furniture and accessories retailer. But this morning I got a call from the well-known UK white goods retailer mentioned in my previous related post.

"Hello Mr Turner, this is Jimbobflibblywibpants [not his real name] calling from GrueGoods.com [not the site] about your delivery today."


He was ringing about the order the retailer and I jointly cancelled a few days ago because they couldn't fit the dishwasher today.

Muppets. (Would do better.)

Dishwasher (sweary)

We need a new dishwasher. The old one is at the side of the house awaiting collection by one of the rag-tag bunch of folks who collect scrap metal with no fees, no questions asked.

  1. Well-known electrical goods retailer: 10-21 days? Nope.
  2. Well-known online white goods retailer: in stock available for fitting for a very modest fee: 3 days. Great, I ordered it! A few minutes after, they phoned. Nope, computer days no. Actually, the computer says yes even though they can't meet demand.
  3. Well-known premium department store: Next-day delivery and installation for a fee, great! So I ordered it. Apparently I qualify for free standard delivery even though I'd be paying for next-day? Great! I choose Monday. It turns out choosing Monday on the mobile site means a week on Monday. I cancel on the telephone.

For fuck's sake, it's the 21st arsing century, how difficulty can it be to organise delivery efficiently? To spell things out before the customer presses the poxy button to commit to spending hundreds of pounds on…


17 minutes ago I cancelled. 15 minutes ago I received notice of cancellation and refund. Just now, just fucking NOW, a text pops up to confirm I'd be getting a dishwasher installed a week on Monday!


When ordering food for other people or for myself and others I'm unlucky.

The modern world is set up to make things easy for those who would let others take the strain of food preparation: go out to eat, or pick up the phone or electronic device, speak or blindly stab at buttons until something vaguely resembling a meal is concocted, then sit and wait. And occasionally peer out of the window if within the comfort of home, as if that will speed up the delivery process.

In theory it's foolproof. But no. For when I get involved it all turns to sh…

It'll either have not quite what was ordered, or something completely random thrown in, or it'll be late when visitors need to go home right after the meal we've spent seconds preparing.

When we're out anywhere my wife knows to order for the girls and herself and leave mine to me. It all arrives exactly as ordered, all of it, even mine.

Even some colleagues now know not to trust me, especially since the now slightly-famous 'non-popped egg yolk down the front of the shirt incident' of September 2017!

Unlucky Baz?


It's late, the weekend is almost completed, and I ache from the successes during it.

We recently found out the dining room carpet was damp. Chastising our lovely female cat is out of the question so last weekend I sliced most of the floorcovering into conveniently-sized rolls and took them to the tip.

Meanwhile my wife had priced up a very fancy lino to replace the previous luxurious pile. Saturday was fitting day, so Friday after work was me shifting 2 bookcases, 2 CD/DVD shelving units and their contents, an overladen sideboard, and the stuff that builds up as one's loved ones live, all out of the room.

The herringbone-pattern wood block-effect lino is lovely, we won't have the peeing issue again, and most of the furniture and books and stuff is back where it came from. Did it fit right back again without much effort? No; the back of each of the CD shelving units and one bookcase required inexpertly hacking at to accommodate the change in height between the previous and required notches to clear the skirting board.

Yes, of course I've been asked to move one bookcase to replace the living room electric fireplace now donated to charity. No more convenient mug rest for me. (sighs)

I've participated in a small way during the pnut.io Hackathon Weekend. But I'm tired, I've already written too many words, so I'll blog about the wiki next time.





Blogging, blogging, bloggingbloggingblogging … blogging, blogging.

Blogging, blogging.







It's been an odd few weeks and months.

I'm looking for a bit of stability here. I'm finding some.

Bizarre performance art

Returning to the recent Sprout Burrito theme, this from Fark; "Hey, at least it's got beans on it now B-b-burrito? DIT"

The best comment across a couple of hundred posts, the very best, most succinct whilst retaining a flavour of what they must be thinking:

"This is some bizarre performance art or a social experiment. Regardless, there's no excuse for these 'burritos' should they exist. They are an abomination."

A man puts Brussels sprouts into a tortilla wrap and, well, the response is inevitable isn't it!

Sprout burrito inventor

In an attempt to reinvent myself on social networks I've been silent for a long while, to let the old stuff out and the void in. That's not to say I haven't missed the interactions, I have. But life, as-ever, got in the way.

I'm not back yet, far from it, but I see encouraging signs. One of them was an attempt to engage with people I don't know on IRC. It's literally 20 years since the last time I had a go, and there's no coincidence that was also my first try; it's synchronous chat, quite a fast-paced, and an unforgiving environment. But once in, it appears a sense of community remains. Nerds, geeks abound. The attempt went reasonably well, but I definitely sensed some insularity, mistrust of outsiders; most unlike the entirely positive experiences on the 3 most-recent small networks it's been my privilege to be involved with.

So, to the title of this post?

First, it might be, though probably isn't, a good idea to read this:

"Today, after a lot of procrastination, I will eat my first-ever burrito. I'll post a picture of the uncooked thing momentarily. Later this year, a visit to Taco Bell UK"

And then this:

"Following up yesterday's first-ever burrito, I'm making my own from leftovers: Mashed sprouts, sweetcorn, redcurrant jelly, tiny squirt of ketchup. In the oven now, wrapped in foil"

Incidentally, the mobile version of the Fark site works really well on mobile devices.

Getting there, not just socially.

  1. 1
  2. 2
  3. 3
  4. ...
  5. 28