Fistral, it's like I hardly knew you

I like to go down to Fistral Beach when I go home for a few days. Staring out to the sea has great healing powers. Plus watching people fall off surfboards can also be quite relaxing.

However, on my way home I walked past the gargantuan development of Headland, which by my inexpert eye looks pretty complete.

Gone are the days (or nights to be more precise) of lounging around backpackers (Fistral Backpackers, The Cribbar, The Zone et al R.I.P.) playing the guitar, drinking, smoking and having an all round, hippy-ass good times.

They will be missed. Feel free to scowl at what they've got there instead now.

Eugh...

Distractions on Pitch Side

Sunday's Carling Cup Final between Aston Villa and Manchester United was presented with a test of viewers' attention.

Seeing as the Carling Cup, occasionally known as the League Cup, is an exercise in mass advertising (see Worthington's Cup, Coca-Cola Cup, Littlewoods Cup, Rumbelows Cup and Milk Cup) it's little surprise that the digital pitch side billboards were covered exclusively in Carling's branding.

The continuous loop of Carling imagery being forced into supporters peripheral vision was mesmerizing.

More mesmerizing was the inane comments of fan support emblazoned on the digital hoardings. Most likely a money spinning exercise by Carling to make a few quid off a premium rate shortcode text number from fans within Wembley Stadium.

But could football supporters come up with such nonsensical drivel as this?

'FLETCHER -> MARRADONNA' This is where my suspicions of this texting debacle were first aroused. On the billboard was an image of a finger where I've used some lazy characters. Now, I'm now expert on mobile phones, but I've never come across the finger character between the digits 0-9, A-Z. [Not on mine, upon checking.] Although, if one had the strength of mind to make a finger appear on their phone, they'd probably have the means of precognition to see a time when two incomparable players become comparable.

'GOD BLESS ASTON VILLA' If there is a God [I'm not getting into that whole debate] would he really support Villa? Well, if he's the same God that blesses America and sees no problems in them doing things in his name [I'm not getting into the Iraq debate either], well, maybe he would.

'2010 BOYS BECOME MEN' This was in reference to Aston Villa. Apparently a team, who up until the new year were just a bunch of whipper snappers. Who knows what rite of passage they have passed through in the last two months to become men, but it's official. Aston Villa are now represented by 11 men and possibly half a dozen feckless teenagers on the subs bench.

'BUSBY 2 FERGIE UTD 4 EVER' Probably written by a United fan who couldn't understand why most of his fellow supporters have started sporting the green and gold of Newton Heath. Yes stupid man, United have only existed since the 1960s. Plus the paradox of a limited period of time (from 1945 when Busby became manager to whenever Ferguson decides to call it a day) being 'forever' is an interesting concept. I just hope whoever wrote that one just happens to have been born on the day that Sir Matt Busby took charge of United and can subsequently die at the moment Ferguson announces his retirement thus rendering his bizarre statement somewhat logical. To some extent.

Non Valentine's Related Post

This can’t be bad luck. The world must just hate me. Maybe not the whole world. Just the majority of the things in my vicinity. Specifically technology. Technology hates me with the fieriest of passions. Perhaps I’m the real John Connor.

My last computer wasn’t fond of doing its job of connecting to wireless networks. It seems that Apple got wind of this fact and designed a MacBook that would eventually find its way into my hands to deprive me of what is presently considered a basic human right: Wi-Fi access.

I’ve searched online for a solution, however I haven’t been a Mac user long enough to understand what they are talking about on their Mac forums. I’m such a newbie. Yesterday, I trekked through the human traffic jam that is Oxford Street (on a Saturday afternoon) to find that the soonest I could be seen to be a ‘Genius’ is Wednesday.

Seriously, ‘Genius’? Where do these guys get off? Yes, I know it’s a cross reference to a feature on iTunes, but I’d feel a whole lot more satisfied if you fixed my Mac with some fucking CUSTOMER SUPPORT instead of inflating your already dangerously inflated egos. Anyway, if Macs are so fucking good, why is there a waiting list THREE days long of people that have problems with their iProducts?

Suck my balls Apple. Your Leopard should be turned into a coat.

I’m a Mac user, and this was uploaded on a PC.

Homework

Note to self: When you get some time to yourself, start writing about the ridiculous events of work. The place is comedy. However, now, sleep.

Luck

Finally, a tiny fleck of luck has appeared on the arse hole that is my life.

Normally I swear and spit at buses as they fly by me or turn me away for having a double beeping oyster card.

This one's for you, you jeb ends.

Whereas I have to put up with a non track listed version of Justice's Cross (btw hurry the fuck up with the next album) on the bus, I 1. Didn't pay for said album and 2. Didn't pay to get on this bus.

How fucking double luck is that?

Jesus, if you only exist in the imagination of many, you've done me a massive favour. Seeing as you're in a good mood can you explain to me all the conflicting ideas that your guys are professing about you? I know it's something that can only be explained successfully through the medium of blogging.

I await your anonymous comment.

Back to Mobile Blogging

For a month or so, it seemed like things were in the vicinity of going to plan. The laptop, although in a constant catatonic state of despair, chugged along spitting out music with minor feedback and every once in a while connecting to the internet. That was a happy period. And now it's over.

I find myself on the 205 attempting to blog again on my mobile phone. A task similar to performing open heart surgery with a rusty butter knife or trying to equate pi to its exact value using a Sinclair Spectrum ZX. I forgot how 'fun' this is.

Because it turns out that only 0.000001% of the internet is written in code that a Sony Ericsson can read.

I don't mind. Charlie Brooker's writing on the Guardian site is working fine, and i like a good moan.

Handling critique

Handling critique is a skill. It's all very well to dish it out, but taking it is just as hard.

I need to have a daily reminder that tells me what's going on, what's going wrong and how to fix it. I also need one to make sure I do that.

You know what? I think I'm going to make myself one. Where's that phone gone?