BobBigMac

Things I care about…

  • My friends and family: first and foremost. Offend, affront, insult or injure them in any way and I won’t be nice to you.
  • My freedom. I like my lifestyle, and despite the fact I only earn enough to get by on, I’m not a status-junkie, so I’m happy with my freedom.
  • Christmas. Christmas is awesome, not because I’m crazy religious or anything, and Christmas shopping is a pita, but it’s a jolly time. There is bad music everywhere, but I get a couple of awesome family dinners, and get to spend weeks putting together presents for everyone.
  • My customers. I’m one of those people who wants everyone I like to be happy. I like my customers for 3 reasons: firstly they are generally not annoying, secondly they have interesting questions and suggestions to help make my tools better, and lastly they pay me in exchange for goods or services. Yay!
  • Coding: I like good coding, it doesn’t have to be perfect, just meaningful and intentional. Like someone else cared about it too.
  • Stories. Whether books, TV, movies or anywhere else, high-brow or pulp, I care about stories and the characters in them, I like to get ‘involved’ with a story. There’s little more I enjoy than digging around in the ‘canon’ or ‘lore’ of a universe other than this one.

That’s all for now :)

The National Lottery

Why does anyone play the national lottery? Euro lottery? lottery bundles? Euro-raffle?

Granted when it first started, it was a bit of fun, but there are people who’ve ploughed hundreds, if not tens of thousands of their hard-earned cash into the vaguely remote chance that they ‘might’ win a couple of million.

“It could be yooouuuuu…” says the big finger in the sky, pointing at some unfortunate soul who just spent their last £3 on scratch-cards and a lucky-dip (or should that be ‘unlucky dip’?).

Get over it. It’s almost certainly not going to be you. All that giant finger in the sky is doing is raping you like a true-grit prison-guard promising a good word at the next parole hearing if you just behave yourself.

Fuck Camelot, you take an honourable name from history and turn it to shit. You robbing bastards, you should be ashamed of yourselves.

Take your £2 or however much a lottery ticket costs nowadays and head to halfords to buy a mallet, you might be able to knock some sense into your gullible skull.

Christmas Tree, oh Christmas Tree…

christmas tree

I should have taken my christmas tree down by now I know. Surely it should be up 12 days before christmas and taken down by 12 days after, but hey, I like it.

Granted I don’t want to be ‘that guy’ come july, you know… ‘that guy’ who still has his christmas lights up, but really, is there anything sadder than the space in the living room where the christmas tree once was. A few stray pieces of tinsel hinting at what inference-to-joy that corner of the room once proudly displayed.

Yes yes, I’ll take it down, but maybe in just a couple more days :)

Pet peeves: An hotel…

This is an annoyance:

  • I visited an hotel
  • I ate an ham
  • I own an hamster
  • I wear an hat

Yes yes, I know… for some (possibly most) english-speakers, the leading h is silent when spoken aloud, but when written it is ‘a hotel’, ‘a ham’, ‘a hamster’, ‘a hat’. It’s a consonant, and until it becomes a vowel, please, I am begging you, treat it as a consonant :)

PS: Don’t give me that bunk about stressed and unstressed syllables, and yes there are a few silly exceptions: ‘an heirloom’ may be correct since virtually nobody would say aloud ‘huh-eirloom’, the aspirated ‘heir’ followed by the softened ‘l’ makes it pointless to do so, but ‘an heirarchy’ and ‘an haircut’ are not as the h should be enunciated in both cases, regardless of accent when spoken aloud.

I’m… Feeling… Sleepy… Not!

I’ve always found sleep quite intriguing; we all spend between a quarter and a third of our entire lives doing it, both us humans, and every other species, yet it seems to offer no obvious evolutionary benefit (something I’m surprised the intelligent design nutcases havn’t jumped on).

Yes, ok, it allows our bodies time to regenerate lost cells and our brains some downtime away from our problems, but surely in the times in our prehistory when staying in one place for more than a couple of hours might well have meant seeing the inside of a sabre-toothed tiger’s belly, we and our prey-shaped brothers of the earthly-mother could have come up with something more useful to do with that time than hiding in a nook and grabbing some shuteye?

Sleep Patterns

Most people sleep between 5-9 hours a night, leaving 15-19 awake from a 24 hour day. For most people this is determined by their metabolism (or more accurately circadian rhythym) and age, their lifestyle including working hours, and often seasonal sunlight cycles (people usually sleep a little more in winter than they do in summer). There is however a condition known as Non-24-hour sleep-wake syndrome which affects about 1 in 2000 people to differing extents (also DSPS).

The result of this condition is that people find it difficult to maintain a ‘normal’ sleep pattern relative to the rest of society, and thus often struggle with seemingly simple things like getting to work on time, or even going to bed at a reasonable hour, simply because they are not remotely tired, and no amount of trying to get to sleep will send them off to the land of nod.

My Sleep History

All through school and university, and for my first few years of ‘professional’ work, I was constantly late for classes or for early meetings. In high-school it was generally accepted that I would miss registration period but would make it in for the second class, and my part-time jobs (starting at 13) I always had very early morning starts so I could stay up beforehand, or late-afternoon jobs. My first couple of years in corporate positions were tricky and some management believed I was “just a lazy bastard” (yes, that’s a genuine quote) whilst I thought I was an insomniac.

When I got a job as a mostly-travelling consultant I fared a little better as I would stay up all night, then catch a few hours sleep on the early-train to London, Edinburgh, Newcastle or wherever else I was needed. I’d be more refreshed for the entire day than when I was in my local office, having usually spent 4-5 hours lay in bed wide-awake trying to get to sleep, managing to catch maybe 30 minutes before having to get up and head to work.

Self-employment Brings Freedom

Now that I work for myself, I’ve finally been able to manage what I originally thought of as a problem, and turn it into something beneficial to me. My current sleep pattern is about 18-20 hours awake, with 8-10 hours of sleep, giving me a well-rounded 6-day week each of 28 hours.

This actually gives me more time to support the people all over the world using my websites and software, and gives me enough peace and quiet to really knuckle-down and get on with the coding, image-processing or whatever other tasks need determination and focus.

I imagine it’s what dyslexic people felt like in the 80s… I’m not just a lazy bastard, I’m just not quite the same as everyone else :)

Thankfully I’ve managed to build an environment in which my cure is to embrace it and work out it’s benefits. Not something everyone can do, and I really feel for those still struggling trying to fit into the ‘normal’ world of work, but next time you’re in the office and see the same guy (it’s statistically going to be a guy) come in late everyday, cut him a little slack, you’re not perfect either ;)

Alcohol… what’s the point?

The UK has a big drink problem. Let me rephrase that: the UK has a MASSIVE drink problem. Why?

Is life here so f&$king miserable that people just feel the need to blow out what remains of their teeny-tiny brains and escape to a world where they are king, and everyone else is a mere peon?

Are people so f£$king stupid that they don’t realise that binge drinking is so incredibly bad for you that alcohol accounts directly for 5% of all british deaths, upto 40% of all traffic accidents (depending on who you ask), and almost ALL cases of physical abuse (in and outside the home).

Not only that but it makes you act like a total dick. Seriously, I’ve known guys off their face on cocaine who were easier to get along with than most drunkards.

And don’t think I’m not talking to you… yes you the reader… At a party when you have had one too many ‘wifebeaters’ and ‘think’ you’re being funny, you’re not… everyone may be laughing ‘at’ you, but that’s because you’re being a dick.

Don’t get me wrong, I’m not calling for abstinence here. I occasionally like a drink to complement a nice meal, or even a smooth glass of Southern Comfort and a tasty cigar, and have in the past been something of a stoner. Yes, I know smoking is bad (very bad), but I’ve never seen a stoner smash anyone else in the face with a glass or go home and beat their wife. Typically they are too busy playing X-Box or making sandwiches.

So: Stop drinking like a dick… and you might just stop being one too.

tumblrbot asked: WHAT IS YOUR EARLIEST HUMAN MEMORY?

My first memory was quite an awakening. I think I was about 2 years old, perhaps 3; I was being pushed by my mum in my pushchair (or stroller for those americans out there) in the pouring rain.

I remember seeing a large and impressive oncoming truck (of the articulated variety) bearing down on me, and noticing a very large, rippling, glistening puddle in the road.

Needless to say, it was a shocking, cold, dripping wet, and rather miserable memory. A rude awakening to the realities of the human condition some might say.

My second memory, by comparison, is of sitting on the kitchen counter in my grandparents house mere moments after the ‘splash’ event, naked but for a warm and slightly scratchy blanket, sipping a warm and soothing drink from my ‘bisto’ sipper-cup. I’m not sure if it was gravy in the cup, but whatever it was, it warmed my cockles right up again :)

New Year Resolutions

1) Improve my websites.

2) Make enough money that I don’t have to worry about whether I’ll meet my rent next month.

3) Blog a bit more, it’s fun.

4) Finish writing one of my books.

5) Continue to be happy :)

Rage, Rage, Rage against the machine

This is a photo of me my first day of University.

I still remember the feeling of walking down the road from my Mum’s house bright and early on ‘Registration Sunday’, with 2 big carry-alls, one over each shoulder and a ruck-sack in the middle. I hadn’t lived outside my hometown of Flint before, and part of me couldn’t really believe that I was on the way out.

It had been a dream of mine ever since I was a young lad to go to uni, to study something interesting, even if I didn’t know for years what that was going to be. I had never thought about the life surrounding study, nor the friends and ‘enemies’, the challenges or elations of daily life as a free-thinking adult.

That morning as I walked to the train station, stacked like a pack-mule and brimming with energy, excitement and even those niggly fears; I didn’t really know what I would find, what I would become, where that would take me.

That first day, as I sat in a £2 photo-booth on Preston train platform, and tried to look like a guy who knew what he was doing in life, I suddenly realised: it didn’t really matter… bad, good, silly, heart-breaking, uplifting, inspiring, educational, challenging and provocative, it was awesome anyway :)

I post this today, simply because, whilst my university education cost me almost £12,000 in student loans, which still today are not even remotely repaid, but I am ok with that. What I’m not ok with is the fact that my younger sisters (thanks to David Cameron and all those other lying bastard politicians hiking the cost of an education anywhere upto 10 times what I paid) might never have the opportunity to experience what I believe every young-adult should… they deserve the freedom to figure out who they really are, before they get shoehorned by the uninspiring overlords of modern society into any hole those bastards in London think they should be shoved into.

It may not be an original concept, but I hope the recent student protests (or more accurately ‘riots’) continue in future, not for my benefit, since I’m pretty-much old now, I’ve already had freedom and learned from it… but for my sisters… I hope they all continue to rage against the machine.

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