Light to no blogging

Today I’m driving back up North as my son is going into hospital to have his thyroid removed. I don’t know how long I’ll be up there, but he’ll need my help after the operation. 

In the meantime if anyone has any fresh ideas of what I should blog about. Feel free to let me know in the comments here.

Have a nice day.

More Friday foolery

Sorry .... for the next 2 days I won't be able to respond to my e-mails...

A friend is painting the ceilings in my house.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

I was asked to stabilize the ladder and give Technical advice
You know me.
I'm always there to help.

Also, do you think five ten coats is enough?

iShoot app

Wonderful  what you can do with an i phone

Google Earth and iPhones are crucial for Libyan rebels defending the city Misrata from troops loyal to Muammar Gaddafi, according to a Times report. Meanwhile NATO pilots may be picking their targets from tweets.

­Google’s satellite map combined with a compass app for Apple mobile phones and a mortar-ranging table help Misrata rebels shell their enemy with artillery pieces they have captured, British newspaper The Times reports.
Scouts with binoculars spot Gaddafi troops’ positions and report back. Thanks to Google Earth, the artillery teams know the exact distance between them and the loyalists. And an iPhone’s compass tied to the barrel with an eight-meter wire helps to align the weapon.

Oh and don’t forget Twitter has it’s uses.

Meanwhile the Canadian newspaper Globe and Mail says NATO is closely monitoring Twitter when picking targets for air strikes in Libya.

"We get information from open sources on the internet; we get Twitter," it cites a NATO spokesman, Wing Commander Mike Bracken, as saying. "You name any source of media and our fusion center will deliver all of that into usable intelligence."

I'm not addicted to oil

I share this man’s sentiments entirely

I'm addicted to being able to drive into town on my own schedule. I'm addicted to being able to haul home a week's worth of shopping with two little kids in tow without having to wait for the fucking bus with eighty pounds of filled plastic bags in my hands. (That's disregarding the fact that I live out in the sticks, and the nearest bus stop is four miles away, which is one hell of a hike with the aforementioned two little kids and week's worth of shopping.)

"I don't give a shit what kind of substance I have to put in the tank of the minivan to feed that particular addiction. I don't care about oil. If my minivan ran on distilled cow piss, I'd fill up with distilled cow piss. If they ever come up with an electric minivan that goes the speed limit on the motorway, accelerates to motorway speeds in less time than a geologic epoch, and doesn't need to be recharged every fifty miles with electricity that comes from a coal-powered plant anyway, I'll gladly buy one of those and deep-six the old combustion engine. --

Quite.

Engineering as it used to be. (The drink and debauchery bit)

I opened the door and entered the bar………………………..

What met my eye was immaculately laid tables serviced by waiters in Tuxedos, and waitresses in long flowing dresses, serving an elite clientele.

REWIND

What met my eye was a dark and dingy room with a haphazard arrangement of crudely made tables, populated by, to my naive  mind, denizens of the underworld with two heads. Eventually when my eyesight became accustomed to the gloom, I realised that these weren’t two headed creatures, they were just two people of the opposite sex sharing one lap.

I then sidled over to an empty table and sat down, not knowing what the etiquette was in places such as this. Seconds passed before a young lady swooped down on me and said “ You want to drink, big boy”. All I could do was gulp and ask for a beer. (Tiger if you’re interested).

In a flash this vision of delight (If you’ve spent months at sea, a female hippopotamus looks like miss world), produced a pint with the words “50 cents, and you buy me drink”. (I didn’t put a question mark after the last sentence as it appeared to be an order). I didn’t dare refuse. The oriental maiden returned with her rather suspicious looking drink (coloured water) and without a bye your leave, plonked her derriere onto my lap. Imagine what that does to an eighteen year old who’s been away at sea for a while. I can’t understand why she wriggled for so long to get comfortable?

After  a while of discoursing about Plato’s theory of the republic and einstein’s  theory of relativity she asked me a question that I didn’t know how to answer. Was I a cherry boy?  After months in the sun my skin was quite brown, and certainly not cherry  coloured, so I just avoided the question.

In the meantime  I’d realised that I was having difficulty hearing.Looking through the gloom I suddenly realised that I wasn’t suffering from some sort of ear disease, it was a local group wailing at the end of the bar.

I could go on, but needless to say, after far too many drinks that night, my sensible head took over and I left, never to return. (Till the next night).

Do you want to hear about bands, urine, stairs, and Ladyboys? If so you’ll have to wait a while.

Recycling

Did you know that there is an EU directive that now makes it illegal to dump carbon composites in Land fill?

Oh and you can’t burn it either because of the Toxic vapours given off.

In that case what are they going to do with obsolete wind turbine blades?

Professor Henning Albers from the Institut für Umwelt und Biotechnik, Hochschule Bremen, calculates that at current growth rates by 2034, there will be a mountain of 225,000 tonnes of unwanted rotor blade material waste.

I suppose we could make a giant folly on Westminster Green. Or better get them sent back to DECC.

I’m waiting with bated breath

I sent the below E mail to my council a week or so ago. So far they haven’t sent a reply, but just acknowledged it. That’s fine, they’ve still got time.

However if they do reply with the fact they have purchased tickets, then I’d like to know what authority gives them the right to spend taxpayers money in this way?

 

From: The Filthy Engineer
Sent: 2011/06/08 14:32:11
To: county.hall@kent.gov.uk
Subject: FOI Request

Dear Sir/Madam,

I am writing to obtain information about how many tickets your organisation applied for and the total amount spent on tickets for the 2012 Olympics.

To outline my query as clearly as possible, I am requesting:

1. The total number of tickets your organisation applied for
2. The total amount paid for tickets (or amount outstanding if not yet paid)
3. Please break this information down by event

My preferred format to receive this information is electronically, but if that is not possible I will gladly accept letters at the address below.

I would be grateful if you would acknowledge receipt of this request as soon as possible.

Kind regards

The Filthy Engineer

Filthy Towers

Somewhere

Kent

It’s not as if they’ve made poor financial decisions in the past. Oh wait. They lost 50 million of the reserves in the Iceland debacle. (The highest of any county).

Need some cash?

A new sign in the Bank reads:

'Please note that this Bank is installing new Drive-through ATM machines enabling customers to withdraw cash without leaving their vehicles.
Customers using this new facility are requested to use the procedures outlined below when accessing their accounts.
After months of careful research, MALE & FEMALE Procedures have been developed. Please follow the Appropriate steps for your gender.'

MALE PROCEDURE:
1... Drive up to the ATM.
2. LOWER your car window.
3. Insert card into machine and enter PIN.
4. Enter amount of cash required.
5. Retrieve card, cash and receipt.
6. Raise window.
7. Drive off..

FEMALE PROCEDURE: 
(Unfortunately, most of this  is true.!!)
1. Drive up to ATM machine.
2. Reverse and back up the required amount to align car window with the machine.
3. Put hand brake on, put the window down.
4. Find handbag, remove all contents on to passenger seat to locate card.
5. Tell person on mobile phone you will call them back and hang up.
6. Attempt to insert card into machine.
7. Open car door to allow easier access to machine due to its excessive distance from the car.
8. Insert card.
9. Re-insert card the right way.
10. Dig through handbag to find diary with your PIN written on the inside back page.
11. Enter PIN ...
12. Press cancel and re-enter correct PIN.
13. Enter amount of cash required.
14. Check makeup in rear view mirror.
15. Retrieve cash and receipt.
16. Empty handbag again to locate purse and place cash inside.
17. Write debit amount in cheque book and place receipt in back of it.
18. Re-check makeup.
19. Drive forward 2 feet.
20. Reverse back to ATM machine.
21. Retrieve card.
22. Re-empty hand bag, locate card
holder, and place card into the slot provided.
23. Give dirty look to irate male driver waiting behind you.
24. Restart stalled engine and drive off.
25. Redial person on mobile phone.
26. Drive for 2 to 3 kilometres.
27. Release Hand Brake.

What happens when Greece defaults. Here are a few things:

Every bank in Greece will instantly go insolvent.
The Greek government will nationalise every bank in Greece.
The Greek government will forbid withdrawals from Greek banks.
To prevent Greek depositors from rioting on the streets, Argentina-2002-style (when the Argentinian president had to flee by helicopter from the roof of the presidential palace to evade a mob of such depositors), the Greek government will declare a curfew, perhaps even general martial law.
Greece will redenominate all its debts into “New Drachmas” or whatever it calls the new currency (this is a classic ploy of countries defaulting)
The New Drachma will devalue by some 30-70 per cent (probably around 50 per cent, though perhaps more), effectively defaulting 0n 50 per cent or more of all Greek euro-denominated debts.
The Irish will, within a few days, walk away from the debts of its banking system.
The Portuguese government will wait to see whether there is chaos in Greece before deciding whether to default in turn.
A number of French and German banks will make sufficient losses that they no longer meet regulatory capital adequacy requirements.
The European Central Bank will become insolvent, given its very high exposure to Greek government debt, and to Greek banking sector and Irish banking sector debt.
The French and German governments will meet to decide whether (a) to recapitalise the ECB, or (b) to allow the ECB to print money to restore its solvency. (Because the ECB has relatively little foreign currency-denominated exposure, it could in principle print its way out, but this is forbidden by its founding charter.  On the other hand, the EU Treaty explicitly, and in terms, forbids the form of bailouts used for Greece, Portugal and Ireland, but a little thing like their being blatantly illegal hasn’t prevented that from happening, so it’s not intrinsically obvious that its being illegal for the ECB to print its way out will prove much of a hurdle.)
They will recapitalise, and recapitalise their own banks, but declare an end to all bailouts.
There will be carnage in the market for Spanish banking sector bonds, as bondholders anticipate imposed debt-equity swaps.
This assumption will prove justified, as the Spaniards choose to over-ride the structure of current bond contracts in the Spanish banking sector, recapitalising a number of banks via debt-equity swaps.
Bondholders will take the Spanish Banking Sector to the European Court of Human Rights (and probably other courts, also), claiming violations of property rights. These cases won’t be heard for years. By the time they are finally heard, no-one will care.
Attention will turn to the British banks. Then we shall see…
I hope that they don't do this before I go on Holiday.
Just saying.

Be careful what you say in front of the children

This should make you smile.
You have to love little kids.

 

The children began to identify the flavours by their colour:
Red.....................Cherry
Yellow..................Lemon
Green...................Lime
Orange ...............Orange

Finally the teacher gave them all HONEY flavoured polos. None
of the children could identify the taste.

The teacher said, 'I will give you all a clue. It's what your
mother may sometimes call your father.'
One little girl looked up in horror, spat her polo out and
yelled, 'Oh my God! They're arse-holes!

The teacher had to leave the room !!!