Wimminz – celebrating skank ho's everywhere

July 26, 2013

Things are tough all over

Filed under: Wimminz — Tags: , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , — wimminz @ 4:09 pm

as Cheech & Chong said.

I’m hearing the same shit from lots of different people in lots of different jobs, the bosses are talking about shortages of money, and the result is heaping more workload on the workers, sometimes for less money, never for more.

And you just know things are bad when even the desperate will simply quit rather than submit to ever greater levels of bullshit for ever less take-home from the boss.

Some are self employed courier drivers, (e.g. all courier drivers in 2013 UK) getting to the point where far from making any money, it is a case of subsidising the employer… some are still just on the government tit, looking to bail into the private sector and getting scared shitless because what jobs there are are offering maybe 60% of the government tit job wage, and they all “cannot possibly survive on 150 a week less”.

It may not be a Perfect Storm, it may not be a Great Depression, but it is the ingredients for both, and some other things besides…

I did a call today, putting a new router into a rural site which has just had an EFM circuit installed, all the employees and the MD were wimminz, and not a hot one amongst em, and they were all working in a traditionally male field, shall we say “construction”, in the project management sense, and since construction includes services, such as data services…..

I can’t show you the pictures, it would identify them, but the 8U cab was just slung on the floor on the corner (no forced or a/c cooling of any kind, no mains regulation or UPS of any kind), nearly buried by masses of cables, mains cables, USB cables, CAT5 cables, it was, frankly, a fucking disgrace.

On top of this was thrown the EFM box and cables, to which I was supposed to attach the new router… so when I turn up I get the “You’re just plugging something in, right?” spiel from the wimminz MD.

“Depends if you want it to actually work or not” is my reply… puzzled frown from the MD…

It reminded me of yesterday in a big supermarket chain, access to the rear of the racks completely blocked off by a wall of filing cabinets, one of those dumps where there are no employees or staff, just colleagues, and invariably 50% of them are useless obese wimminz, I pondered saying something but wanted to get the job done and get out of there so fuck it, just dragged one filing cabinet out of the way and left it blocking the wall so I could get access.

30 minutes later some skank walks up with the “excuse me” shit, “i need to get into that filing cabinet” she says, gesturing at one of the ones blocked in by the one I pulled out of the way.

“Go ahead” I say “just don’t block my access to the rear of the rack”

“I can’t move it” she says “I have a bad back”

I just shrugged and looked at her, fuck it, I had eaten two Nurofen not an hour earlier, having pulled a muscle in my lower back by lifting something stupidly, unlike her, I was actually waddling / limping.

So a guy who if he makes a mistake takes the whole site hard down is, in her eyes, expected to drop all that shit he is paid to do and help her lardy fugly ass out… good luck with that shit bitch.

Next job that day is another supermarket, I put them onto the new EFM circuit and new routers, and call one of the managers, another wimminz, in to run several checks from the tills to make sure everything is working, with their sales HQ on speakerphone, bitch prevaricates and makes a point of doing other shit at the same time, I tell speakerphone bitch in sales HQ that she has not made a friend there, she asks who, you or me, I say you, you should see the face on your manager…. perhaps it was my fault for neglecting to tell the manager bitch that the woman who wanted to talk to her on speakerphone was actually several rungs above her in her own company…lol

It is all entitled people, coming face to face with a situation where their constantly escalating entitlements are no longer escalating, and boy, they don’t like it one fucking bit.

When I say they don’t like it one fucking bit, that isn’t even scratching the surface of the resentment and frustration self evidently building.

Place I work for lots of people are bailing, they take the attitude they now have all their Cisco certs, I can get an offer or more money elsewhere, yeah, you can, short term, but this company has all the work, and is still getting more, and if you were half as smart as you think you are you would have played it like me from day one, being paid quite a lot less money, but for vastly less work and hassle.

It’s nearly the end of the month and travelling aside, I have done 18 jobs, most of which took an hour or less, a few of which ran to the full 2 hours allotted… when you consider some days I did 2 or even 3 separate jobs, you’re looking at basically every other day off sat at home being paid.

Of resentment and frustration I have none, I fucking *love* my job, and as a result my work is 100%, and HQ always find me pleasant and enjoyable to deal with, so they treat me pleasantly and enjoyably in return.

I also occupy the one role the company absolutely cannot cut back on, the guy who physically goes to site and liaises with the end user and service provider to do actual installs, fault find, changeovers etc.

I am also a generalist, not a specialist, no point sending a high flying every Cisco and MS certificate going type at 95% of the jobs I go to, not because the job is beneath them, but because they can’t do them, CCNx up the wazoo types don’t walk on site and FIRST check all the basics, oh yes, the site is down because some doofus moved the DSL cable into the wrong PSTN socket, or the power switch has been turned off, or the power brick died, or they can’t swap a mainboard in a server, or they can’t diagnose a thermal loading issue, and so on…..

Neurosurgeons are wonderful people, but multiskilled and experienced field medics never go out of fashion.

It was the same back in my proper engineering days, I wasn’t always getting work because I was so good at any one thing, but because there was almost no thing that I did not at least know something about, and in reality all jobs go better when you have someone on hand who knows a little about everything, and a fair bit about a lot, and a lot about a few things… on the rare occasions he has to talk to or call in someone else, they love him, because he gives them the straight shit every time.

So yeah, things are tough all over, and getting tougher, but speaking purely personally, life is goooood baby, I am as happy as a dog with two dicks, simply because I never bought into the paradigm that is now crumbling before our very eyes.

 

February 16, 2013

Show me something new, for fuck’s sake

Filed under: Wimminz — Tags: , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , — wimminz @ 1:45 pm

Depending where you go, you will get a lot of shit about fucking lots of different wimminz, just a PUA loser blah blah blah….

In a not too dissimilar vein, a guy who has worked 10 jobs a year for the last 10 years knows a damn sight more about companies and employment and hiring and so on than the guy who has worked one job.

If there is one thing banging lots of chicks teaches you it is that the range of their bullshit is as limited and unimaginative as the range of the HR departments in the 100 different companies in the other example above… cookie cutter bullshit.shit

No pwintheth, your cwithith ithn’t sthpethial just because it features you in the starring role.

Nor is it new, different, interesting, entertaining, cute, sexy, sassy or anything else.

There was a bar I knew years ago, I once ever had a drink there, just to be the only customer, I used to drink next door, which was packed to the rafters, the first place used to open at 10 am and close at 3 am, so open for 17 hours straight 7 days a week.

They played Fawlty Towers, non stop, back to back, nothing else, so while I quite liked Fawlty, you have to remember they only ever made twelve episodes, each running about half an hour… so about seven hours of programming, on a loop, 17 hours a day, 119 hours a week, I subconsciously learned more Fawlty script sitting next-door in the busy bar than I ever did actually watching the shit or re-reruns on telly.

Sit me down today and put Fawlty on and it leaves me stone cold dead, bored fucking shitless, yo had better be PAYING my fucking ass a per hour rate to sit here and watch this shit, and it better be a lot, and fuck it I don’t need the money kthxbye

Yeah I know pwinthethth, you think your shit and your drama and your ass is all new, it ain’t, it’s just another tired old re-run, heard it all before, seen it all before, trust me I wish you did have some new shit to pull, I might stick around just to see it, out of novelty value.

But no, it is the same old same old.

And *****THAT***** is why, when you decide that you are worth more than I am interested in giving you or taking from you, your passing bothers me just exactly about as much as the fact that I am not sat outside that bar listening to fucking fawlty fucking towers re-runs all day long.

Bitches complain that guys pester them and just won’t leave them alone and all that jazz, but when you actually do do the KTHXBYE and move on and never contact them again, what happens is they go through a whole range of entitled princess shit, waiting for you to text, can’t believe he ain’t gonna text, fuck me he really ain’t gonna text, god-DAMN he really really isn’t gonna text, and now I have left it waaaay to late to text him cos he’ll know etc etc etc

Meanwhile back in the real world of my life all the drama is as unique an interesting as the dialogue in Fawlty.. “is no rat, is hamster”  ha-fucking-ha

No bitch, when I ask you what YOU have to offer ME, fawlty re-runs starring you as Sybil don’t cut it, but it’s all avoidance and same old same old subterfuge, because when it comes right down to it, and the question becomes what do YOU have to offer ME bitch, that’s the question they don’t want to acknowledge, because that particular piggy bank is quite empty, and always has been.

At that point they may try and emulate the little boy in the sweet shop with no money, all cute and maybe the shopkeeper will take pity, but what they are is the penniless hobo trying to gain admission to a good restaurant, it ain’t pretty.

One of my common refrains to wimminz who try to get a little close is “I will not accept less than you have previously given away for free” which is all very nice and logical, but it is very tough, because it is only a few very short steps from nice young virgin, to has had a cock in every hole at least once, to has had two, and before you know it there is fuck all new to offer me, and you sure as fucking shit better not even THINK about offering me less, because that is a personal insult, because that rates me a lower than these guys you gave it away for free to, and where are they now bitch?

Again, a common feature of all these scenarios is when the penny starts dropping miss motormouth bitch who could talk for hours without pausing or drawing breath suddenly sees words like she is shitting cactus plants, the smaller the better, the fewer the better.

you get 4 and 5 word sentences, and short words, not many letters, not many syllables.

yeah, you can walk away, but it bothers me as much as the penniless hobo who didn’t get in to my restaurant, I’m going to miss you as much as the turd I flushed down to the coast yesterday.

Welcome to the brave new world, where there is no more play before pay, where there is no more liar loan self certification, or promises to pay that are never cashed in.

In this brave new world we cut out all the shit before you even get to sit down at the negotiating table, because my business model isn’t hurt one iota if nobody ever sits at that negotiating table.

Universally, if they ever get to this point, wimminz will all say the same thing, they will say “WHAT DO YOU WANNA HEAR?” well bitch, I don’t wanna HEAR shit, I wanna SEE shit, we are so far beyond talk…. some, will be self aware enough to know they have nothing of value to offer you, and will struggle with that concept.

But get this, this is still the negotiation table, ALL we do at this table is negotiate, there is no guarantee of any kind of deal or sale, all we have been doing to date is ensuring that the two people sat at the negotiating table are dealing honestly, and whether or not a deal is done, no hard feelings either way.

What, the wimminz cry, MORE fucking hoops to jump through… so don’t jump bitch, walk your skanky ass outta here.

The kind of guy we are describing here… he is the fucking anti-christ to feminazis… so think of it like being mosquito repellent, and the mosquitoes trying the shaming language, dude, if you weren’t so smelly and dirty you’d be sooooooo much more attractive to us.

Just because something got through the mosquito repellent doesn’t mean you want it on your skin, but, and this is an important but, almost 99.999% of those things that you would not mind at all being on your skin will be repelled by a guy they see associating with mosquitoes.

Fucking fat skanky hoes is like riding a Honda 90, it’s better than walking but no other fucker ever better see you do it…. if you ever do it in public the hotter wimminz will avoid you like the fucking plague you are.

I’m not saying any of these bitches are prize material, but at least you can sit down at the negotiating table with them, which is more than you can say for mosquitoes…

It isn’t new, but it isn’t as old and tired as the same old same old re-run dreck all the other wimminz come out with, and brothers just because you can make this classification / separation, don’t even go anywhere near thinking you are on track to the elusive NAWALT filter…. it doesn’t fucking exist.

It isn’t new, but it does give you time to get on with your life, and not spend it swatting mossies, or worse still thinking they are butterflies and chasing after them with a net…

It isn’t new, but at least you can go to sleep at night knowing you haven’t played a part in maintaining the entitlement pwinthethth  syndrome out there is la-la-land, which they hilariously call real life…

It isn’t new, but it does give you the time and patience to flick through some other wimminz channels, and see some other re-runs, some of which you have only seen a few times, perhaps few enough you have nothing better to do that watch this one once more, hell, it keeps your balls drained and your status in the world reaffirmed, that’s a good thing.

January 28, 2013

The intersting thing about free will…

Filed under: Wimminz — Tags: , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , — wimminz @ 5:00 pm

Is not that it isn’t free, but just how much of it is ruled by biochemistry.

I have wibbled on here before about Toxoplasma gondii, whichy makes cat piss smell interesting, and cat people, but there are better examples.

The guinea worm is one, you get it by drinking infected water, then it grows in the gut until it is as thick as a piece of spaghetti and 18 – 24 inches long, whereupon it burrows its way down through your limbs, and when it is ready to emerge and lay eggs and start the cycle again, it drives the host to water.

The point many people do not get, is these parasites are able to significantly influence the behaviour of the host organism, and it doesn’t really matter what the host organism is, human, oxen or goat, the same parasite is able to exude a biochemical trigger that has the exact same effect, not just across individuals, but across species.

Different parasites have different goals, and when you start to study it it is hard to come up with some aspect of human behaviour that cannot be either directly or indirectly influenced by the parasite

Which makes the whole concept of free will interesting, living in a modern technological society where were are effectively swimming in a biochemical soup all thanks to modern technology and mass produced products.

If a specific biochemical can trigger an interest in cat piss across species, and another specific biochemical can trigger an urge to go down to the pond or river and stand in the water, and so on and so forth, it isn’t really that much of a stretch to imagine a specific biochemical trigger that can make men more gay, or make wimminz more slutty.

In fact, it isn’t any kind of stretch at all, the contraceptive pill is nothing but a biochemical trigger, and I have been around this planet long enough and fucked enough wimminz to spot the marked differences in behaviour between a wimminz on estrogen, a wimminz on nowt and going through her cycles, a wimminz who is pregnant, etc etc etc.

Sure, it’s anecdotal, as is the observation that wimminz that drink over a litre of coke a day are all fucking cluster B and have a messy house, or the observation that wimminz who have had a lot of cock have a very high incidence of cervical cancer, or the observation that wimminz with blue cars don’t have steady boyfriends…

… but just because it is anecdotal doesn’t mean it is shit… red sky at night, sailor’s delight…

… which all reminded me of a crazy bitch I fucked years ago, she was every bit as crazy as the crazy I fucked last week, the word many will use is delusional… and she used to spout about the Nazi’s and BASF and Bayer and mind control through chemicals and all that good jazz.

To me she was just a crazy bitch and a good fuck, but about a year later I was talking to another guy who had porked her for a bit, can’t even remember his name, but he had a then brand new Yam XJ650, and during the conversation I found out he was a research biochemist, imagine my surprise when he tells me that in between fucking her they were talking and his job came up and next thing he knows she is hitting him with a whole load of (then) cutting edge biochemistry, and it was soon apparent to him that she was much better trained at his job than he was, she was in his own words world class and could write her own ticket anywhere on the planet, if she wasn’t so crazy…

But her “crazy” was insisting that all these big companies were collecting data on how various compounds could influence human behaviour, 30 years later she doesn’t sound so fucking crazy to me…

Now, I don’t pretend to know all the answers, or even a few of them, but I do find these to be interesting questions, and while I am the first to admit that correlation =! causation, there sure are a shit lot of parallels since around 1960 onwards to the changing environment in which we immerse ourselves, biochemically, and the way attitudes and society has changed.

The fact that we HAVE been performing this great biochemical experiment upon ourselves is not in doubt, where I would differ from the 1980 crazy is in suggesting that it is all deliberate and planned… if there is data gathering it is no wonder after things like Thalidomide, which could well have affected me if my mother took it during pregnancy, for I was of that era… nobody wants a lawsuit.

I share a lot of genetic material with one set of cousins, unlike them we always eat fresh food and veg, where they always eat frozen, the aunt in question was well known for having two chest freezers full of food and never any fresh foods in the house, “Mrs Bird’s Eye” she was called… so it is definitely a correlation that the cousins in question are all in poor health compared to me, despite the fact that I am older than all of them, but is it a causation… good question… I wish I knew the answer.

But it isn’t just health, there are broad and obvious behavioural differences between us too, as as far as nurture vs nature, well, one of their parents and one of my parents grew up together as siblings, so they came with common values and standards and history…

And when it comes to progeny, their kids bear almost no resemblance to them when they were little kids themselves, but mine are always seen as being “mini-me”.

Could this all be down to growing up eating processed frozen foods wrapped in plastics? Of course it could…but how to prove it, and even if you could what would be the point, you can’t go back in time and reverse it.

To this day, if I get the munchies I grab a piece of fruit or maybe a jam sandwich, biscuits and chocolate and crisps and pot noodles and suchlike are things I literally may eat once a year.

But then, in reality I am not a control specimen, I am just choosing to immerse myself in a different end of the biochemical pool that we all live in now, it’s not a deep or containing as many complex compounds, but it certainly isn’t 1950 style either…. maybe that by itself is sufficient to explain why my attitudes are perceived as being old fashioned.

 

 

January 21, 2013

Fucking Crazy

Filed under: Wimminz — Tags: , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , — wimminz @ 4:21 pm

I was, last night, fucking a crazy that is… comes from the school of do as I say, not as I do, I guess, but anyway, there I was, fucking this self confessed crazy bitch who fried her brain’s biochemistry years ago on ganja.

OK, I wanted a fuck, but really the reason was this, when I started talking to her she reminded me of a crazy chick I knew and fucked in around 1980, bitch would go moo and maa and all that shit and smoke some grass and then take a handful of mogadon, and then we would get it on, crazy bitch but an interesting fuck.as

So I took it in my head to do some brideshead revisited and fuck a similar ish crazy bitch 30 years later in real time, but 20 years later in crazy bitch time, as this one was 40 and had been hitting the pills for 20 years.

Shit that amused me back then was frankly boring as fuck when it came out of this bitch’s mouth, heard one delusion / psychosis heard em all, heard on tale of infantile sexual abuse heard em all, heard one vile attempt at poetry heard em all, heard one the aliens mind control nazis po-lice and coming to get me heard em all…

… and so it was that at 11 pm when I had finished plundering all her holes and dumping my cum, I did the whole make me a coffe bitch thing and got dressed, and set my phone to do the Fake Call Me thing in five minutes, drink my coffee, phone goes off so I give her the whole Babe-I-gotta-go-the-mothership-is-calling-we-are-moving-the-invasion-date-up thing and get the fuck out.

And so it is that as midnight strikes I am sitting in my warm german mothership listening to the muted beat of the straight six diesel at 2500 RPM on roads largely deserted because of the ice and snow, reflecting on the passage of 20 years of self medication on crazy bitches, and brothers, there are a lot of them out there..

And I move on to the other bitches on the production line and realise I have done it again, I have reached that stage beyond asshole game and arrogant asshole game and extreme asshole game and gotten to “meh” game, that cycle where my desire for new cunt is sub-zero, and any amount of pleasure extracted from dumping my cum is always exceeded by my distaste for the bitch involved.

As the miles hum by I come to realise something, the end of 2012 and the beginning of 2013 has seen a startling shift in wimminz, and I was too close to the cunt to see the trees.

Bitches are starting to get desperate and scared… it’s the fucking swansong and they know it.

In the last six months bitches have NO money, stories I have seen and heard, interest only mortgage (by definition, NONE of the capital paid off) with a year to run and ZERO possibility of a re-mortgage, bitches have to choose between buying food or buying heating oil, bitches have to choose between buying food or putting fuel in the car to come see me and get fucked, bitches being told their jobs are at risk, and they realise they have no savings and debt falling out of their asses, bitches considering getting back with their ex’s, because the ex is still working and has money, bitches who are accumulating broken appliances around the house, because they have to money to repair or replace, and so, in short, bitches who are getting more desperate and ironically MORE demanding, they less they have to offer and the greater their need.

Take back the night and take back the streets, the bitches are getting scared, because they can walk through the city in the day time in a week day and see less people about, less shoppers, very few people carrying bags from shops, and they are starting to feel alone and vulnerable, not a part of the crowd.

The city I was in last night fucking crazy is known for being an an area that paradoxically lost most of the native industry and so is poor, but also had a shitload of development money thrown at it, so there are gleaming new city centres and white elephant buildings, and out in the burbs it is all mass unemployment and petty crime and drugs.

The younger wimminz, in their twenties, can trade cunt for drugs, the older wimminz hand over their cash cards to the dealers who go to the hole in the wall every week and draw out the monies paid in by the state for child benefit and then hand over the dope.

Wimminz who fuck up have cash bounties put on their heads for s severe beating, and even I raised my eyebrows at the prices, spoke to one chick living in fear, she knew who put the bounty on her, and she knew it was £100, but she can’t even earn that sort of money on her back, not even at £10 a time because it is all she can do to get one guy to pay £10 to fuck her, mark to market economics at its best…. fuck me back in 1980 it was 50 quid for a good beating, and 50 quid in 1980 is worth at least 500 today.

I drove into the place at around seven pm, and from the motorway exit to the bitch’s flat I did not see one single pub or shop open, most of what I did see was not merely shut, but boarded up…. times are hard when not even the paki’s will move in and open a corner shop, and not even the chinks will move in and open a takeaway…

…and this isn’t even a sinkhole estate, this was a *good* area of the city in question…

To be honest this was largely why I decided it was time to do some fucking crazy, she lived in a city I hadn’t been to for a while and it was an excuse to go there and drive through it, thinking when she opens the door I can always decide no way and walk away, but when she opened the door it wasn’t that bad so I stayed and fucked it and got distracted from my alternate purpose by her crazy.

I’m glad I did, because otherwise the local picture is the only one you see, and you can end up with confirmation bias.

I’m also glad I did because fucking crazy was enough to tip me over the edge and complete another cycle of fuck / don’t fuck.

I’m also glad I did because the serenity of cruising back along deserted highways in the mothership gave me time to think and realise that lately the wimminz have been getting desperate and nastier with it.

I’m glad I did because all these things are feedback loops, they all play a part in my losing interest in fucking bitches for a while, and my losing interest in fucking bitches for a while allows me to see all these things a little more clearly than when dumping some cum is on the agenda.

As an interesting anecdote, fucking crazy is also convinced that 2013 is when it starts to go bad for real.

Fucking crazy reminded me of an old story, allegedly true. (this is from before the days of mobile phones and breakdown cover)

Guy is driving along a road in the country, and THUMP, gets out and finds one wheel has fallen off his car, the wheel is easy enough to retrieve, but of course the 4 wheel nuts are all long gone.

Guy starts cursing and kicking the shit out of the wheel in question, when he hears giggling behind him.

Guy looks around and sees a brick wall “St Eustatic Mental Hospital” on a sign, and this fella leaning on the wall.

Fella leaning on the wall says “HI, I’m a patient here, got a cigarette”

Guy thinks what the fuck, could do with a smoke myself to calm down, so pulls out the smokes, hands one to the fella and lights both up.

Fella says “Why don’t you take one wheel nut of each of the other three wheels, and use those three nuts to attach that wheel?”

Guy is impressed at this, and says so.

Fella says “Listen mate, I’m fucking crazy, not stupid.”

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January 15, 2013

Do Androids dream of eclectic sheeple

Filed under: Wimminz — Tags: , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , — wimminz @ 3:33 pm

I have banged on loads, and with reason, in the right sidebar about the vast benefits of equipping yourself with a smart-phone and a google account and tracking everything.

In response to *many* emails and messages, this is my 101.

As previously discussed;

  1. Get an Android smartphone
  2. Sign up for a google gmail account
  3. Set the gmail account in the smart-phone and set everything to sync

Now, the details.porno

Android is great, but it is the apps that bring it all alive.

I have already discussed Google Latitude providing you with a historical record of WHERE you were at any given time or day, now let’s boost it.

Once you have done steps 1 to 3 above, you can sit down at any computer with a web browser and point it at https://play.google.com/ and login with your gmail address and password, it will log you in to the play store, and identify the phone you created the account on in step 3 above.

Now you can use the search function to search for apps, and even install them to the phone automagically from this browser window, get all these and install them.

  1. SMS Backup +

    Jan Berkel

    This app creates two new folder in your gmail account, “call log” and “sms” (you can rename them) and will either manually or automatically back up all call logs and sms / mms messages to these folders, it will also restore if required… in addition, it will also add the call log records (incoming and outgoing) to your google calendar.

  2. Barcode Scanner

    ZXing Team

    This is a barcode reader that reads all sorts of barcodes, including QR codes, you can do all sorts of neat stuff like share phone numbers, full contact info, map locations, wifi accounts, it is “just” a utility app, but so useful you should grab it and use it.

  3. AirDroid

    SAND STUDIO

    AirDroid starts a service on the phone, over wifi, that allows any computer to type a URL such as 192.169.0.10:8888 into a web browser and see an interface to the phone… this URL, along with the required password, is displayed on the phone screen. From the computer browser you can then send and receive SMS, up / download photos, browse files, listen to music, etc etc etc… very handy tool

  4. Dropbox

    Dropbox, Inc.

    Cloud storage, if you grab an app called Sandisk Memory Zone it will do an online backup to cloud storage of selected directories on your phone, eg DCIM / camera.

  5. Titanium Backup PRO Key ★ root

    Titanium Track

    Titanium is pretty much the Android backup tool for backing up installed apps and user data, but it is pretty pointless unless you back it up to a removeable miniSD card in the phone, and NOT to the phone internal memory, because anything that wipes the phones internal memory will wipe your backups too, and many tools like Odin etc are capable of wiping and moving partition tables on your phone’s internal memory.

  6. Cheetah Sync for Files/Folders

    JRTStudio

    Wifi File Explorer is the tool to use if you want to browse the file structure of your phone from a web browser on your computer, and while it is good for moving single files to and fro, it doesn’t work for quantities of files, enter Cheetah sync, which can sync from phone to PC, or PC to phone, or both ways, just select the folder on the phone, the folder on the PC, give that sync job a name (you can store many different sync jobs) and whenever you feel like it, run it… I have one job that syncs my entire 32 GB miniSD card in the phone to a directory in my laptop

There are others, SeekDroid is handy for locating a lost phone, or remotely wiping it, Qik is an app that uploads a photo to a web-server as soon as you take it (handy to defeat po-lice instructions to wipe / delete), WhatsApp is a handy way to send pictures without incurring a charge as you would as MMS, Magnify turns your phone into a handy magnifying glass, Brightest Flashlight is self explanatory, there is a WordPress app to allow you to post to blogs like this, and one for Drupal if you host yourself, the beat goes on …

The point is, you are walking around with a technological marvel in your pocket that would have utterly blown away not only the entire moon landing effort, but also anything that ran the first “modern” version of Windows, 95a, aka Chicago, WITH ALL THE PERIPHERALS INCLUDED.

Most people only use 1% of the functionality.

All I suggest you do is use 5% of the functionality, you are getting tracked and traced and recorded anyway, this way you and your legal representatives get access to that data too.

There is NO EXCUSE for a man to get convicted of a false accusation of DV or sexual abuse.

The only downside is other extreme laws, and this article would not be complete without mentioning them, this especially applies to all you men out there with kids who have a smartphone.

  1. In many places, such as the UK, extreme and child pornography is an “absolute” offence, and the “absolute” means that in Law, no defence can be made. You ARE guilty.
  2. In many places, such as the UK, “possession” is defined as being in a position of responsibility, if your kid comes to visit on your one weekend in the month, and this kid has illegal shit on their phone, it is in your house, they are a minor, you are the responsible legal adult, you will be deemed to be in “possession” in Law.
  3. In many places, such as the UK, “making” is defined as what your web browser already did when it displayed the image above.

To sum up, if that image above was of a girl who was, or WHO APPEARED TO BE, less than 16 years old, it WOULD be classed as child pornography, to which no legal defence is possible, you own the device it is displayed on, or the property in which the device it is displayed on is sat, so it WOULD be classed as possession, and of course as per point three you WOULD in Law have been making that image.

Making and possession of child pornography, no defence possible, guilty, sex offenders register, probably prison time too.

These are not possible or probable outcomes, they are absolutely guaranteed as certain as death cancer and taxes outcomes.

Being in the company of a child is now far less dangerous legally than being in the company of the smart-phone in the child’s pocket.

=========================================================

Encryption.

It is one option, you can encrypt your phone, and your PC, and sooner or later the word privacy will be mentioned, but you don’t have any privacy, all this data I am talking about making available to yourself above is already being collected anyway, that is how the technology works, so there is no privacy, and once you realise that then encryption ceases to be a tool to protect your privacy, and starts to be a tool that law enforcement see as a sign of guilt…

Sure, the fuckers have access to all that data anyway, they just tell your cell provider to pony up and grab your computers and smartphone, but the key phrase with law enforcement is the thing they say to you when they arrest you.

“Anything you say may me taken down and used in evidence against you.”

Doesn’t say shit about anything you say may be taken down and used as evidence to exculpate you and eliminate you from enquiries.

Standard procedure is in fact to simply ignore anything that might show your innocence, all they are looking for is stuff that makes you look guilty… encryption makes you look guilty, and doesn’t prevent them getting cell data anyway.

A citizen under arrest and caution is the last motherfucker on the planet who should be arguing about civil liberties.

 

January 14, 2013

It’s a wild world

Filed under: Wimminz — Tags: , , , , , , , , , , — wimminz @ 3:39 pm

I make lots of small bets with myself, like “that’s it, that bitch ain’t gonna ask me for another fuck” and so on, and often times I find myself wishing I was a much bigger cunt than I am, so that I could name names, post SMS history, use actual images.

It would be a lot easier to explain what I am trying to say that way.

For want of a better moniker, jane49 falls into this category, we met, we fucked like bunnies for a month or two, she pulled some typical wimminz dissembling bullshit on me, I called her on it, she went away with her feelings hurt, we still talk now and again, but she ain’t gonna ask me for another fuck, that’s my bet.

I’d quite like to fuck her again, massive tits, smells nice, good company, but that is just one aspect of her personality, the other aspect is the career girl…

Just this morning I was talking to another chick, this chick has been diagnosed as schizophrenic, but the ironic thing is, unlike jane49, this chick knows she has separate and conflicting personalities and desires, jane49 doesn’t, so as soon as her sexual life with me started to creep out of the petri dish that her career girl life imposed, everything got closed down.

It’s a fucked up world when those with severe mental issues are more honest with themselves and you than an apparently got it together independent career girl.

But it all serves to remind me of a simple fact of (my) male psychology, and that simple fact is that if a wimminz does not fuck me for two weeks, she is fading fast from my radar, and as soon as you start fading from my radar it is the good things that fade first, sure, I remember the GG cup tits, but with fondness not lust, meanwhile the negatives occupy more of the remaining radar plot, the skin that really should have been better on a 30 year old, the weight that really should have been 40lbs less, the way my bathroom stank of hairspray when you did stay over and got ready in the morning…

And then these fade too…

And then some months later I hook up with a chick who wants me to come over and use and abuse her, so the bitch gives me her address and zip for the GPS, and I think, “Hey, jane33 lived in that village, wonder what she is up to now” because the fact is jane33 fell off the radar, the same way jane49 is now, and so the road to oblivion and old age smelling of cats and piss is paved for all these wimminz.

There are a lot of janes’ out there that I simply pass on, unfuckable and nothing about them would induce me to waste an hour of my life in their company, and without exception if you could wind the clock back ten or twenty years, or cocks, or whatever, go back in time, they would have been different, they would have been a jane33 or a jane49.

I don’t even feel sorry for these janes’ any more, I don’t even sigh at the wasted potential… my life is too short to expend even that much time on their plight, because it is totally self inflicted.

But I am aware that there is a general social cost, a debt stored away for future redemption.

I am also acutely aware that I am living a lifestyle that is tailored to minimise my exposure, while living off the fat while I can, my current lifestyle is no more moral or high born than a crow, hopping across a battlefield and eating the eyes of the dead.

Fuck it, rather pull up some old David Allan Coe and chill.

But, I have to be honest, there is a nasty part of me that hopes he is still in contact with jane49 when the wheels fall off her wagon, ayup, “How’d that work out for ya?” and “Told ya so!” spring to mind.

See, let’s take jane49 as an example, the story and details will change with the jane, but the basic backstory and principle is all the same.

Jane49 has a house on a mortgage, but it is a modern mortgage, (back when I was a lad doing accountancy a mortgage = a debt = a liability, nowadays people call it a fucking asset… go figure) negative equity special before we even get a property crash, but thankfully for her she has some tenants in that are paying enough rent to cover the mortgage payments, so she just isn’t looking at what could go wrong here, or how wrong it could go, so her eye is firmly on the fact she just rolled a bunch of sixes in a row, and the only permit-able reality is she is going to be able to continue to roll sixes… you can try to talk to her about it, and she will accept that other outcomes are possible, dislike where that train of thought is going, and dismiss the whole issue, after all, she is rolling sixes.

She has a job here, some distance from her house, so she has a flat on a lease / rent, and her job is basically sales, and it is a foreign owned company, and 99% of what they sell is basically cheap imported crap from china.

Between this that and the other, despite the company car, she doesn’t save any money, all those salon treatments, nights out and so on.

So of course all it takes is a blip in the UK economy, which is tanking, or a blip in the chinese economy, or a simple thing like a blip in the exchange rate or shipping costs, and the whole business model of the foreign company she works for crumbles.

She isn’t going to get ANOTHER job elsewhere in sales, because the sorts of things discussed above hit the whole economy, it’s not like the kenyan coffee company goes tits up because of a civil war in kenya, so you can go work for the colombian coffee company instead.

The first thing the foreign company will do is drop the 9,500 chinese made things from the product line, and go back to the 500 EU made things, that’s called restructuring, and that means job losses across the board.

A “career” in sales isn’t a great thing when the economy tanks, and you have no savings, no transport when the company car is taken, no home because yours is rented out, and oh yeah, house prices just dropped 30% so you can’t sell as you owe £130k on a place that might sell at £100k, if you are lucky.

You’re now mid thirties, so your best reproductive years are behind you, and all you can do is wail that “Nobody could have predicted this!!!”

Me coughs politely… “‘scuse me bitch, I did predict this, exactly… so remind me, bitch, this career of yours that was more important than a relationshit with me, how did that work out for ya?”

And then we get to the nitty gritty… even if she threw herself at me, what’s in it for me?

It was all fine and dandy when the bitch had a disposable income and could feed and clothe herself and turn up at mine with a bottle and some eats, or I’d go to hers because she had a nice place and the heating was on and there was coffee in….

But NOW? Now you don’t have shit?

The really interesting thing, for the boy that used to do accountancy within me, is if you do a balance sheet for her life NOW, when everything is find and dandy and her career comes first, she is left with net liabilities, and if you do another one where she has lost her job / career, and her house is in 30% negative equity, she is still left with net liabilities, and to be honest, they aren’t THAT much greater than now.

The difference will be in the cash flow, income and expenditure department, she won’t be able to service those liabilities, or me…

And that little detail is what is going to screw up so many people that you won’t believe….

That little detail is why I can walk through the city centre, and see few people, and see almost nobody with bags of shopping, and all the shops are empty…. it’s not just a question of assets and liabilities, it’s a question of cash flow.

The greater your liabilities, the greater your minimum cash flow needs to be to keep you above economic stall speed, but the effects are the same when you hit it, game over and you fall out of the sky as an independent economic entity.

There is an old saying about being nice to the people you meet on the way up, because you will probably meet most of them again on the way down.

A lesson the janes of this world will learn the hard way.

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December 30, 2012

Down in the sewers

Filed under: Wimminz — Tags: , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , — wimminz @ 3:11 pm

Yeah, I’m listening to the stranglers again, 1977 was a fucked up year, Rattus Norvegicus was a product of that, and while there are those who weren’t in the UK at the end of the brief punk era and have grooved to this shit since, there is always as special unspoken camaraderie with those who were…  Stranglers2387creditChrisGabrin

… I was wandering down the street in a coastal town nearby in what passed for summer a few months ago, the usual crap, some dweeb in a citroen saxo in the traffic treating us all to his selection of drum n bass masterpieces, then the traffic stalled so he turned the volume right down, I’m thinking “cocksucker”, then hear the opening bars of “Sometimes” blasting out from an old silvery blue Maserati Bi-turbo that looks like it is mainly rust, yeah, the guy behind the wheel is a freak, we grin at each other and he whacks it up, I look up and down the street and see three other freaks, heads nodding to the riff as they walk, we see each other and give that grin of recognition and camaraderie, despite the fact that on the outside, to everyone else on the street we are all middle aged or older, straights, Grecian 2000 and a shit job, we recognise each other, it’s that freak sense thing that hollywierd often tries to capture in a film and always fails at.

But then again, I’m sure the same could be said for Sarajevo, or anywhere else or anyplace else in time and space, and the four other freaks and me would all have thought the same thing, 1977, doesn’t seem like 35 years ago babe, seems like 35 weeks.

Course, ’77 was 2/3 years after ’74/5, when things really did get shitty in the UK economy, and no fucker had any money, and when things like punk (not that the Stranglers were ever a punk band) found the right conditions to grow.

My current favourite fuck was born in ’79, so it’s all just fucking noise to her, and all the lessons we learned then about the economy and politicians are as real to her as anything Disney has done.

So people like her look at the high streets in 2012/13 and think wow, nobody is spending any money, nobody has any money, times are tough, and lyrics like “it’s only the children of the fucking wealthy who tend to be good looking” mean nothing to someone who has known nothing but being able to afford nice clothes and make-up and lotions and potions and visits to the hairdresser all her life.

In some ways she is not wrong, the retail experience, despite all the MSM media trying to hype it up, has collapsed in the high street, as my mother says, nobody is spending cash, nobody, not even for smaller amounts, and yet she is also very, very, very fucking wrong, because the new normal for “poor” is in fact staggeringly rich.

Many people, such as my bro, lived through the mid ’70’s and were poor, but they have never looked back since, and frankly they have forgotten they were born… oh sure, you can talk to them and they will go all oh yes I remember we used to do this, but it is a different life and not one they can apply to the present or future.

My current favourite fuck is in fact better placed than many, she could survive an economic downturn (by this I mean one STARTING now, where it goes downhill from today) but sadly she won’t, because her weekly food bill will remain less than her weekly cosmetics and potions and lotions bill, because you see the potions and lotions and cosmetics are all essentials, and this is by any standards a sensible and modest girl who often says “I’m not paying that, it’s ridiculous” for something in ways that agree with me 100%

Plus, she is insulated from other day to day expenses by way of having such things as the company car with the company fuel card, and claiming lunches on expenses.

She looks at me blankly and with incomprehension when I try to explain that the £150,000 mortgage she owes on her house, a thing that itself requires ongoing maintenance and expenditure and work, does not represent an asset, in fact the ONLY THING about her house that is absolutely certain is the £150k debt attached to her.

Long gone and forgotten maladies such as scurvy and tuberculosis are back, and on the rise, not because there is any valid medical or social reason, but because a Bacardi breezer is more important than a bag of lemons, and because conserving centrally heated warmth is more important than opening the window and plugging in an electric blanket….not just more important, but the latter options have passed beyond the ken of the average person in the street.

I know one fuckbuddy who has basically been as weak as a kitten for the past two weeks, all you hear is some shit about winter vomiting bugs and norovirus… you hear nothing whatsoever about being as weak as a kitten for two weeks is FUCKING SERIOUS, how the fuck do you think the flu pandemic at the beginning of the last century killed people…. you get run down you get weakened and suddenly 99 other things that previously you could have shrugged off without noticing get a foothold.

The fucking shits is still fatal in many parts of the world, because it really doesn’t take that long to run the body down to the point where it cannot maintain itself, much less heal itself, much less fight off anything new…

When ___I___ got it a couple of weeks ago it was fucking “man flu” and I was a wimp, but I went out and bought a bunch if lemons to make hot lemon and sugar, I bought grapefruit for breakfast, I bought a fresh pineapple, and I bought an inhaler / decongestant spray, and I kept the heating off at daytime and nights were spent with an open window next to the bed and the electric blanket on, 72 hours later I had progressed through all the symptoms and was right as rain…. now THEY have it, it is no longer man flu, and they have basically been indolent for 10 days / 2 weeks, and made no lifestyle or dietary changes to reflect their state of health… latest prognosis is they have no energy at all and could sleep all day…. quelle motherfucking surprise…

Maybe it is partly my thin blood from growing up in warmer climes, maybe it is the biker in me, but days of 10 degrees celcius and less and I have my nice warm woollen socks on, three layers on top (vest / tee shirt, shirt / sweatshirt, pullover . cardigan) and when I go out it is scarf and wolly hat (well I don’t have much fuckin’ hair left anyway) meanwhile everyone else, including the fuckbuddy mentioned above, is wearing fashionable clothes and is cold all the fucking time…. that or some twat from oop north walking around in knee length shorts and a tee shirt muttering about southern fairies….

We, as a nation, are NOT FUCKING PREPARED for an economic downturn or a flu pandemic or a major war, and these are PRECISELY the conditions REQUIRED for a society to be unable to avert such things, nobody is going to head these things off at the pass, any more than my fuckbuddy could avoid a little thing like “man flu” effectively making her bedridden during the holidays… so she will go back to work in the new year in a worse state than she was when she quit for the holidays… and the beat goes on.

December 29, 2012

The rise of the internet.

Filed under: Wimminz — Tags: , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , — wimminz @ 12:47 pm

I was an early adopter, fidonet / bbs’s and all that good shit.

Back then we knew the MSM (main stream media) was all “push” bullshit, and we thought we were at the cutting edge of the revolution and the new way forward.

Then all the “me too” AOL‘ers came online and fucked everything up for everyone, and what followed was useful evils like google and pernicious evils like facebook and linkedin, the dream was dead.

And then… well… then a funny thing happened, the sheer mass of people online exceeded the ability of the corporates to steer and control it.

It is a literal truth to state that certain news items come to my attention via discussions on swinging sites long before I ever encounter them on a MSM news site.

Then, as stated here, (http://www.zerohedge.com/news/2012-12-28/what-america-really-thinks) there is the growing awareness that it doesn’t really matter who “they” are, “we” the great unwashed public, just don’t believe anything “they” say, or try to tell us, or try to inform us of, or try to educate us about, or try to sell us etc.

It’s not how we early adopters predicted things would turn out, not by any means, but this mass jaded apathy and cynicism is no bad thing.

“They” can no longer run any kind of article about divorce or the family courts or domestic violence and have a comment section that is not over-run with men saying it is all bollocks.

In typical bolting the stable door weeks after the horse has bolted fashion, the powers that be are trying to impose curbs and filters and controls on the bits of this new network that so far remain in their control, to whit, the internet connection from your house to the backbone and back.

But they watch what happened in north Africa and shit themselves, nearly three years ago now I bought a Samsung Galaxy S1 smartphone, I didn’t need no stinking internet, I didn’t even need no stinking 2/3g connection.

I didn’t need those things because I was carrying around a device the size of a packet of cigarettes with Star Trek capabilities, that would charge from any USB source, that would on demand operate as its own wifi hotspot and share files between similar devices, no need for swapping SD cards or bluetooth transfers, any fucking thing with wifi.

Three years later I have the third iteration of that device.

What I have, basically, is what we used to call sneakernet.

It was an old saying, never under estimate the bandwidth of a holdall full of backup tapes, and in actual fact it is as true today as it was in the dawn of the digital age.

Never under estimate the bandwidth of millions of people walking around with hand held devices that can exchange files trivially between themselves once they are within a few metres of each other…. sure, the latency and ping times are a bastard, but latency and ping times don’t mean a fucking thing when it comes to text based discussion and information sharing.

We knew that back in the fidonet / BBS days.

I was reminded of this by something my mother said a couple of days ago, my bro is literally on the other side of the planet, so he sends me an SMS message, and it gets to me in a couple of minutes.

When I was a lad a letter used to take two weeks to do that journey, par avion, (fuck it, it used to take three days to fly from London to Singapore, and we thought that was fast… it took 28 days by fast liner) and if that wasn’t good enough you could send a very similar message to an SMS, but it was called a telegram, and it cost a lot of money, and it still often took a day or two, or sometimes even more…. I was in Africa when a family member died, it was this time of year, by the time I got the telegram the family member had already been buried.

The last big fuckup we had in Europe was Yugoslavia, but as recent as it was, it was before the smartphone revolution, before Windows95, before “the internet” as the AOL’ers knew it.

Fast forwards to Egypt and Libya and even those populations with minimal smartphone market penetration and the revolution is utterly transformed by the ability of these devices to form ad hoc mesh sneakernet networks…

The gap between Yugoslavia and Libya is far far far smaller, technologically, than the gap between Libya and your average western school-yard today.

The genie is well and truly out of the bottle, you could literally pull the plug on ALL internet and 3G systems in the UK and while it would cause uproar, data would still flow, and while ping and latency would be atrocious, I’d say 8 hours tops for anything meme-worthy to transit from one end of the country to the other.

You can’t un-ring a bell, and you can’t put this technology away again once Pandora opens her box.

Samsung, for example, may have intended “bump to share” as a fun little feature to drive sales by allowing people at a social event to take and share pictures etc on the spot, but then again the internet was intended to route around damage in traditional switched networks in the event of a nuclear war, and we see how that turned out.

December 21, 2012

Giving a fuck.

Filed under: Wimminz — Tags: , , , , , , , , , , , , , — wimminz @ 12:20 pm

Tis the season of goodwill and all that bollocks.

So naturally enough I start talking about relationshits and how people aren’t haaapy… I sometimes pull out the android smartphone and treat them to a rendition of It’ll be lonely this Christmas by Mud, fuck it, here you go.

Thing is, 2012 is a very different planet from as recently as 2002, a mere ten years ago.

In 2002 you could pretty much guarantee than no average 13 year old on up had 24/7 access to mobile comms, hell in 2002 not that many people had “broadband” at home, for values of broadband that meant 512/128 kbit ADSL, but they did have landline phones and post addresses for snail mail, that was pretty ubiquitious.

Fast forwards to late 2012 and I can get 5 mbit up and down on my android smartphone, uncapped, for less than 30 quid a month, and in addition to SMS and MMS messaging it monitors 5 separate email accounts and whatsapp and a couple of sex/dating accounts/sites.

I am accessible 24/7, and every wimminz of fuckable age in this country is accessible 24/7 because they are also carrying around smartphones.

If anyone wants anything, from train times to the weather to the car breakdown guy, they whip out the smartphone and 60 seconds later they are in contact.

It really is as simple as that, anyone can contact anyone else they want within 60 seconds.

Which means if you haven’t been contacted by that person, it’s because they don’t want to contact you right now… if they haven’t contacted you for 24 hours, then they haven’t wanted to contact you for 24 hours, if they haven’t contacted you for a week, then they haven’t wanted to contact you for a week…

The ONLY exceptions to this are those where you are given an advance warning, as in I’m going on holiday for two weeks starting tomorrow.Yahoo-mobile-modes-whitepaper-24_7-mobile-usage

So this guy’s girlfriend has an iphone with his number on it, a crackberry with his number on it, a laptop with his personal on it, and she has stayed over at his place and has a car so she knows where he is, in addition she knows who he works for and what his employers website is and that he can be contacted via this company website.

It don’t matter what she says when he is with her, if he don’t hear from her, not a peep, for 48 hours straight the only possible explanations are that she is dead, or she hasn’t wanted to contact him for 48 hours.

He’s rubbing his head with the palm of his hand, and asks me does this happen to me, do wimminz not contact me for hours or days at a time?

Fuck yeah, of COURSE they do, it is in their nature, which is why I don’t plan my life around the bitches, and more importantly, why I always keep a background search on for jane48, jane49, jane50 etc while I am “with” jane47, because sure as god made little green apples, jane47 is going to have periods where she doesn’t contact me, and the only possible reasons are I AM NOT A FUCKING PRIORITY TO HER.

Bitch can SAY anything she wants to deny that, the FACT is she probably looked at her smartphone at least once an hour, but did not take 15 seconds to send you an SMS saying “Hi babes missin’ u xxxxx“… that’s a fucking FACT Jack.

Fuck what she says or claims, what she DOES or DOES NOT DO trumps words and claims every fucking time.

But, he blubbers, she is supposed to be my GIRLFRIEND….

Fuck that, she is a fucking fuckbuddy, no strings attached.

Girlfriend is the conjunction of two words, Girl + Friend.

Neither of these words implies 24/7 joined at the hip ping pong “luv u hunni” texting, and while it is nice to think that while she does not have your cock in her, she is thinking about your cock and you, that ain’t the way wimminz work…..

“out of sight, out of mind“ is a phrase that is tailor made to describe how wimminz minds work.

When the bitch wants something, she will be in touch, bet your ass on that one.

Which means you gotta be like the car breakdown guy, you can’t sit there 24/7 hoping your one potential customer will call…. you got to have a fucking customer base….

If the bitch phones the car breakdown guy, and he is already out on a call, well she can fucking join the queue…

November 28, 2012

“lessons will be learned” – err, no they fucking won’t

Filed under: Wimminz — Tags: , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , — wimminz @ 4:47 pm

http://www.dailymail.co.uk/news/article-2239373/Cyril-Smith-Victim-MP-speaks-horrendous-abuse-boys-home-police-say-chances-missed-bring-justice.html

The guy was a fucking MP for christ’s sake, even I can remember the rumours about him and I lived hundreds of miles away, and yet, purely by coinkydink you understand, enough “blunders” are made in several investigations to ensure that basically it all gets hushed up until long after he is dead and buried.

This is just one of numerous “scandals” that just sort of run out of steam before anyone gets thrown in jail in Rule 43 (segregated for their own protection) so all there are are rumours and allegations about north Wales kids homes, channel islands kids homes, Plymouth (Devon, UK) social services and judges and abused kids, and on, and on, and on.

Now finally the UK is in line with the rest of the western world, the head of the national bank is an ex (ho ho) Goldman Sachs employee.

It’s all just coincidence y’understand, and it is, in fact, once you factor in the real salient factors.

The real factors are that once you are in the club, you associate with people from the club, and you appoint and employ and promote other people from the club, after all, that is what they did for you.

Sure, people in the club may have moral issues of one kind of another, but they are in the club… and those they fuck over aren’t in the club.

If this sounds reminiscent of some inbred Texas chainsaw massacreee, well you wouldn’t be far wrong, cousin Delbert may well like choking chickens, but he is a cousin, family, after all, so fuck all them darned outsiders.

I have a mate who emails me about the dire state of things at his place of work, where he is tasked with doing various things and implementing various things in the IT department, of course he is given a budget of four bucks and some change to do this, and the next thing that happens is the board members just over-rule everything he does and appoints a nephew to run the corporate website and a friend to run the GPS/3G mobile station network and in clear violation of the IT policy they themselves told my friend to create and implement they authorise the purchase of some high end macbooks and ipads for current favourite managers and department heads.

I ask him what the fuck he expects, and if he thinks any other company in the country, or indeed the country itself, is run any different.

Last week I got a call, rescue me, from someone in his situation, nobody else in the company knew that the head of IT and I were old friends, so I turned up on a daily consultancy and made sure I stayed long enough for all the presentation bullshit and especially the free lunch, so immediately after lunch (3pm) it was my turn to speak.

So they are all sat there nursing black coffees after the cognac and cigars at lunch, and fiddling with their ipads slicing vegetables, and I am asked to stand up and speak about the corporate website and change driven technology buzzword buzzword leveraging the marketing paradigm etc.

So I stand up, “good afternoon gentlemen, thank you all for an excellent repast, now if you will all please pick up your ipads and enter this URL“, me holding up a piece of A4 with black marker saying http://www.competitor.com where “competitor” is one of the main competitors of this lot, and whose inroads into their sales figures are what prompted the whole “innovation driven change” policy and even more “friends and relatives” being brought on-board in senior positions.

So they all do this and the website in question pops up.

“As you can see….” I say “….a traditional website design, navigation area on the left, search box top right, footer containing the usual links, but in its favour it loads quickly and works well”

Heads are nodding but I can see I have already tried their patience, after all I was brought in to talk about THEIR new website, not their competitors….

So I hold up a new piece of A4 with http://www.yourcompany.com written on it, and ask them to enter the URL.

It takes about 60 seconds for all of them to do this, frown, poke their ipads some more, before someone else pipes up “It doesn’t seem to be working”

“Quite so,” I state, “….and that is because your new website is a steaming pile of crap that uses flash for EVERYTHING, and so to all your potential customers they are presented with a choice between competitor.com which won’t win any awards but just works, and yourcompany.com website which doesn’t work on any executive devices because it is 100% flash, and which is still a slow and steaming pile of shit on PC’s because apart from all the other design failures, the page turning animation sound for the catalogue section is a file that is big enough to contain all the text on competitor.com’s entire website.”

Smiles around room

“Thank you once again for the excellent lunch gentlemen, that concludes my presentation, for which there will be no charge.” Walks out of room studiously ignoring my mate who looks like a man surrounded by greedy relatives who has just realised he has a winning lottery jackpot ticket in his pocket.

I’m outside corporate hq trying to decide what to do with the rest of the day when my smartphone chirps, I have an SMS from my mate, “Man, that was fuckin awesome”

He rings me later that night, still enthused, and tells me he wishes he has the balls to do what I did.

I tell him, it’s not a question of balls old son, it’s a question of no longer giving a fuck, and I no longer give a fuck because I have no overdraft, no credit card balance, no mortgage, no hire purchase, no car finance, no store cards, and of course no fucking wife.

In short, I am exactly the sort of person LEAST wanted by the boardroom, or indeed the club as mentioned above, because let’s face it, I make have fuck all, but I have fuck all to hide, so I can’t be presured or manipulated etc.

So here you go Jimmy, this one’s for you…

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