Had a quick look at the BBC News site this morning, and noted that it seems to have broken its own record for the number of quotes in headlines. Thus a 'new mammal' has been seen in Borneo, Gordon Brown is promising to be a 'Blairite', and Paul Gascoigne has been arrested over 'assault' (this is the first story I clicked on, readers).
A while ago I blogged about the problems with desktop Linux, and hopefully by now you've taken my advice and visited the Better Desktop project. Now, you may well be thinking, "but that's Novell! I can't possibly afford such usability testing." You're right: getting people into a testing area, watching what they do with an array of video camera, etc - that all takes money. But you can still do a whole lot to see how people are using your software and where you can make improvements.
For some reason, perhaps due to our increasingly litigation-happy society, Spar Lemonade bottles now carry a banner of warnings reminiscent of a child's toy. "Open with care, pointing away from face" it tells us. "Do not use mechanical aids." Ah yes, all those fatal cranium impacts caused by exploding lemonade bottles must be a big concern - especially for those muppets trying to open their soft drinks with a vice.
What next? "Be careful not to trip over your Sherbet Dib-Dab"?
Team LXF have mourned him in the only way we know how: drinking Guinness. A fitting tribute considering the cause of death. Rest in peace, George!
I was away from LXF Towers last week, which gave me the opportunity to read some pulp fiction. When I had finished with Mike's HotPicks, I did some proper reading too, including Daphne du Maurier's Jamaica Inn. One of my friends gave me the Laurence Olivier film version of Rebecca (geddit?) once and I managed about three minutes of it before their RP English gave me a headache, but the books rock hard, and this was no exception.
After an unfortunate (and wholly uncharacteristic) lending/borrowing/not-getting-stuff-back/leaving-the-country issue, I found that all my Smiths CDs were belong to a geezer called Ronan on the western side of the Irish Sea. This was more than a year ago.
Rejoice then, and share the miserable joy of watching northern rain slide down a windowpaned fingerprint – yes, the Smiths have returned to planet Deathchimp, and they're most welcome.
I like long blog entry titles. They imply that I've been doing lots of things recently, as opposed to just playing games. But it's not true: I've been playing games. Many games.
Previously I blogged about Quake 4, and having completed that I was left with a taste for more mindless destruction. So, I tried F.E.A.R for a day or two. If you're thinking about buying this, don't: it's a mindless menagerie of office shootings, dark rooms, random "this is gonna be scary, huh huh!" bits and dull chit-chat between characters you don't care about. So, that one didn't last me very long.
On a hillside desolate
Will nature make a man of me yet?
When in this charming car
This charming man...
Why pamper life's complexity
When the leather runs smooth
On the passenger seat?
I would go out tonight
But I haven't got a stitch to wear
This man said "it's gruesome
That someone so handsome should care"
Ah! A jumped-up pantry boy
Who never knew his place
He said "return the ring"
He knows so much about these things