Nipples

This happened to me on the way to work this morning... It wasn't even that cold but this girl had boy-howdy nipples!
Thanks for reading!
-ANkh

Where will you get stabbed? Google fun!

Today for giggles I googled “Stabbed in X” with X being a city where I would expect a lot of stabbings.

These are the results I got:

LA 22

Dublin 24

Limerick 30

New York 64

London 98

This is interesting. Does this mean that LA is the least violent city? Seems unlikely. Why not google “Violence in X”, this gave a whole different set of results:

Limerick 38

Dublin 91

New York 16,000

Los Angeles 35,500

London 64,900

Wow, stay the fuck out of London! But this has now shot LA far above New York… So what kind of violence do they mean? Shootings perhaps?

Results for “Shot in X” (Note: a large chunk of the response for “Shot in New York” mean film shootings. I don’t think any of “Shot in Limerick” responses meant that, so expect the results to be fairly skewed):

Limerick 45

Dublin 17,900

New York 76,400

London 96,300

Los Angeles 115,000

So there you have it: Limerick is probably a lot safer than I would have normally given it credit for. Although if you took a per-head populace count against the number of stabbings you might understand how it earned the nickname ‘Stab City’.

So google, violence, numbers and massive scientific errors. Fun eh?

-ANkh

P.S. This could be given more of a scientific grounding by using Foxrock, Beverly Hills, San Francisco or Milton Keynes at a control. But seeing as every city is a different size we’re way to far from science to make such an effort worthwhile.

Just some fun with interesting numbers. I recommend you try it out with the city you live in! Does local violence go unreported? Do alarmist newspaper columnists predict chaos? Is somebody making a movie?

Hey just wanted to point out that the character Director Boyle from the Command Conquer Series has a son named Lance.
Lance Boyle... get it?

It's inferred in Comand And Conquer 3: Kane Wrath.

I noticed.
-ANkh

My day without google.
Today, April the 1st is my day without google.
It is April fools day, but it also the day of the world-wide attempt to at least try other search engines.
My search engine of choice is yahoo.co.uk, for two simple reasons: a) it is the next option down by default in firefox 2/3, and b) yahoo! is the home of my favourite webmail client*.
So far my day without google has been quite good; I have checked all my rss feeds with google reader, read my email on gmail, routed chat and twitter through google talk and I'm writing this post in google docs.
But I have searched two things on yahoo!² Both of which were microchips used in a lab this morning.
**********
Jesus Christ the person sitting beside me in this lecture stinks! he keeps making disgusting noises with the contents of his nostrils too! Damn boy blow your nose!... actually I could offer him a tissue.
I did. He has some. He blew. I'm calm. Even the smell has gone.
**********
Anyway: I found both of the microchip datasheets I was looking for this morning, which was no great surprise.
So when it comes down to it every search engine except Windows Live Search is pretty much the same: you tell it what you want and it finds it for you³.
As far as I am concerned search engines are interchangeable, I am using firefox and will use whatever search engine is set... I may keep yahoo there, for all the difference it makes.
But that is not to say I can do without google as I feel is clear from my actions today I am reliant on google, Its rss reader is my homepage, it is among my webmail clients and one of my less popular Instant messenger accounts. I absolutely love google docs, although I do miss office functionality like sub- and super- script and headings. Also the lack of check as you go spell check functionality is irritating.
(Even more so in Ubuntu, where firefox's spell check as you type actually works properly and highlights the mistakes: which is great, but both google docs and firefox respond when you right click. Which makes a bit of a mess).

So here I am, on my day without google, using docs.google.com to write a post which I will post to google-owned blogger, then hassle my friends^ over google talk to go read it and provide some sort of feedback (or at least faint, disinterested encouragement). That done I will go back to paying vague attention to college and checking back on www.google.ie for googles annual April fools day joke.
It's quite irritating to have to wait until Silicon Valley and San Fransisco wakes up, to see the gag. Especially when I know that I pass by googles massive European headquarters on my train to college every morning.


This article is a response to this drive to use an alternative to google.

*I know the big advertisements are annoying, but generally I like yahoo, it has a nice solid feel to it, can use right-click, has infinite email storage space etc.
²If the exclamation mark is part of yahoo!'s name (and I'm fairly certain it is) does that mean I should have written it with two of them? "But I have searched two things on yahoo!!"? Would that have made sense?

³When you tell Windows Live Search what you want it finds you something different, or something it wants you to use.

^All three of my friends that I hassle into reading my new posts use google talk. You know who you are... and so do they....

One for Wonder

Leaving my house today, bathed in warm sunlight I witnessed a magpie flying majestically from a house to a nearby wall.

It was incredibly graceful, first the bird dropped: free-falling like a skydiver; then swinging out its wings swerving to aim itself at the wall.
It once more tucked its wings in with its body and rocketed forward only to deploy them again to softly land atop the granite wall.

I have never wanted to fly so much in my life, to spread my wings and show the flare with which I can command the air.
I can tell, just standing there staring in awe at this magnificent creature of the sky that what is second nature to it would be an incredible heart-in-mouth experience for me.

This, however bizarre as it might seem to the rest of the world; leads me back to the old haunt of computer games. The only way I can experience the amazing thrill of high-speed tightly-controlled low-flight is in a computer game. In fact the only place I have experienced such a thrill was fighting the force-feedback to bring a small fighter plane under control in Battlefield 2 (probably my favourite game).
The game includes a flying component which often can only be enjoyed at the detriment of the regular game-play. You could say that bf2 players suffer as a whole so a select few can enjoy the thrill of flight.
So next time someone challenges my love of computer games I will ask them in return 'How else will I fly like a magpie?'

An account of the Dublin Institute of Technology Students Union Presidential Election

Having stumbled accidentally upon democracy I stopped to watch it in action, I had spoken with all of the candidates at one time or another, Martin I had shared a campus with for a few years, Rebecca I had talked to several times after a friend informed me that I should vote for her because she wore PVC, and Al I had spoken with the day he decided to run, as he was posting his early proclamations.
I had originally decided that Al seemed an interesting and likeable character who would be worth having in office, even if only to see what he would do.
When I spoke in depth to Rebecca on the day of the electoral vote I found her aims comparable to my own, and her attitude that any vote was a good vote refreshing.
Having been around Martin for some time I know he is a frosty and stand-off-ish character who's dull outlook I do not share.
That said, this is only my opinion. A critic I was talking to later that day felt differently, he described the ballot thus: "It was like trying to choose which puddle of shit face first into".

I mingled with the crowd, gathered around the mini stage on which the votes would be counted, the candidates wore faint smiles, while their supporters laughed and joked. I naturally aligned myself with the candidates my Hunter S. Thompson addled brain had tagged as "Freak Power" candidates and their supporters.
When the vote count began the tension mounted. Where there had been pleasant conversation, now there was silence... as the vote continued it became more and more obvious that it would be won by Dunne, silence gave way to the murmurs of dark resentment. Spiky people expressed spiky opinions.
No one felt like chatting so I attempted to take notes, this had the opposite effect to what I wanted: The people around me started to ask me what I was writing, I felt unable to express to them that I wanted to have some record of how this felt, some reminder of the tension in the air or the foreboding in their faces. In the end I gave up after only three words. 'Dark dreary tension'.
Spirits were eased somewhat when the music system was restored by coiling broken wires together and hoping for the best, a Queen heavy playlist brought smiles back to peoples faces, and in an effort to relax one of the candidates on the subject of my writing I leaned back where I new he would see and noted that "Queen will never die" in my notebook. How successful this was, I cannot say.
The supporters around me had long stopped hoping for a win, and were now all but praying that the vote would at least require one recount, just to save face.
But it was not to be, when the first count was over the results were announced RON had received 92 votes, Rebecca had received 625 votes Alastair had received 480 votes and Martin Dunne had won the Presidency with 1491 votes.
There was no point in recounting the vote, Martin had simply run away with it. Martin was swept up by a group of young men and thrown in a pond in celebration.
For those who had lost, there was hugs and remorse. It was over for them. Both of them are Final Year students, there will be no further contest for them.

So a man I found painful company had been elected as DIT Students Union President.
This was unfortunate but perhaps unavoidable, as a current vice president he was a much more recognised face than either of his opponents, he was a Kevin St. student so he had dealings with students from both the Kevin St. and Aungier St. campuses. When it comes down to it, you simply cannot hope to beat name recognition.

But then what does it matter? As a friend of mine explained when I challenged her decision not to vote, in the end it makes no difference who is in power, they will all do the same things anyway.

-Ankhwatcher, Resolute Hunter S. Thomson fan.

Ponder The Adjusted

The Beast With Two Backs

Okay, so I’m very into this girl and she seems quite interested in me. Hooray.

And I can sort of feel that I am on the top of a slope of sorts. In the respect that, if I don’t screw it up through some spectacular means we are more or less definitely going to hook up. (I realise the inanity of that statement, which is to say that it essentially means ‘if we don’t not get together: then we’re going to get together’).

So now I cannot help myself but feel that I should attempt to obtain style-points.

One notion which rather stuck in my head was the concept that when we go to have sex (which could be anywhere from one day to one month from now) that I should attempt to woo her with the proposition of making “the beast with two backs”.

“The beast with two backs” is a term for sex which I encountered in the Neil Gaiman novel ‘American Gods’ (thank you Magrat, it was a lovely present), and it always seemed to me as the worst possible term for intercourse. It doesn’t seem very dirty, or exciting and it certainly isn’t sweet. So I find it utterly without merit. Which means it is perfect for gaining kudos, showing moxy and obtaining style points. So there you have it, if and when the time comes I will woo my lady to bed using that phrase.

Hopefully something like this:

“So… [I run my hand up her thigh to her waist, and then go on to massage a little circle onto her ass while I say] you wanna make the beast with two backs?”.

To be honest, if this girl lives up to my secret hopes she will reply either “No… because you’re going to take me like a dog” or “Okay… but I’m going in the drivers seat”.

Hello world, or more likely nobody.
Wow: I'm talking to the world but nobody is listening... blogging is futile. Get up and assimilate the day.

Well that asside, I have just two things I would like to throw out there.

Firstly... I just had a really weird dream, I was running around and around this sort of factory, but it wasn't quite a factory: in places it looked like a school or a shopping mall.
Anyway I was running around, and Chris was there, but he was working there. I was a patron or a prisoner, and he was a member of staff.
So I was running around and around this place, with Chris occasionally giving me directions, there were other runners too doing the circuit.
Suddenly I realised that the solution was in the milk bottle. I think I said it out loud, because I was immediately terrified that the runner behind me had heard and would get there before me!
So I doubled back, running through the halls of an empty american high school and back into a the dark grey factory, I ran up a down escallator and there it was!
It, was a large slowly spinning turnstile device, quite similar to a tie-rack. On it was a number of bottles and cartons.
I saw a volvic bottle bleached white and nearly grabbed it, thinking it would have milk in it, but then I remembered that it was bleached white by turpentine. So I looked again, and there it was! A green Avenmore carton. (This was the old low fat carton, they are now pale blue)
The carton was attached to the turnstile i such a way that I had not choice but to pull off the lid in order to get it down. I looked in, I saw and smelt that it was washing up liquid and I knew that I was right, that I had won.
I stood up (the turnstile was only at chest hieght so you had to squat to see under it and get at the bottles) and walked to the door, where I was congradulated on solving the puzzle and allowed to walk through.
At this point I was woken up.

Now the girl. Last week started on something of a high note. On sunday night I went to the movies with an attractive member of the opposite sex whom I had had my eye on for some time.
Everything went fantastic, the movie Charlie Wilson's War was great, and we had a lot of fun together. Unfortunately Ireland has an irritating habit of closing down on Sunday, so by the time the movie was over there were no pubs for us to go to.
So we parted ways at the taxi rank on Dame St. at this point I was in a frankly hideously good mood.
Then I made a big mistake, I failed to follow Swingers Rule.
Swingers Rule is from a trailer for the movie Swingers, which was at the start of one of my favourite movies growing up.
Swingers is about a man who got married young and then was divorced years later. He is trying to date again but he lacks all the necissary skills, so his friend have to teach him, talk him through the process.
Anyway, one particular scene in the trailer showed him coming over to his friends and exclaiming excitedly that he had "her number". He wanted to know when he should call her, they said wait two days, he asked how long they would wait before they would call their babys: they respond in unison "two days".
It was exactly this rule that I utterly failed to follow. I barely waited 12 hours. And that was that, I came on too strong, girl was wierded out. I acted like a twat. The end.
Oh well, next time, assuming the Universe (through quantum) grants me a next time. I'll try and play it a little cooler. In fact, a lot cooler.
Maybe I'll wear sunglasses all the time...

Left Limits

Given a function f(x)
We say that f has:

A Left Hand Limit Equal To l!

But only at the point at the point x0-oo-oh
If the value of f(x)
can be made as close as we wish to l
as x approaches x0 - From the Left

The girl beside me is hot like hell
Her cleavage invites like the gates of hell
I may not feel that rump tonight
But she looks great in the afternoon light.

Take x close to two
Like you hold your baby close to you
But keep it less, than then two
or else you just might go through

If x is nearly two, then x-squared is nearly four
and we can make it close
and we can make it big
But we always will be limited by that value: less than 2
So what I'm really saying is that it never will be four.

So when I say
f(x-) = L
Don't you walk away...

---
Rory Glynn
If you really want to get this you have to listen to some Guns N' Roses and then read it.
Axel Rose needs to sing it.

In my Canteen

In my canteen:
The food is always stodgy,
The chips are really dodgy.
In my canteen.
The fish is just terrific,
The meat is non-specific.
In my canteen.
The cleaning is atrocious,
The tables make me nauseous.
In my canteen.
But when you need a feed
It's the place your guaranteed
It won't make your wallet bleed!
And that's why it's my Canteen.

-ANkh
This isn't specifically about DIT's canteen, which isn't that bad... except for the cooking.

Crazy

I'm crazy,
so crazy,
just crazy,
and lazy,
and blue.

I'm crazy
so crazy,
just crazy,
and hazy,
about you.

I'm crazy,
so crazy,
just crazy,
to blasé,
to sue.

I'm crazy,
so crazy,
just crazy,
but my pay,
is due.

Obviously I was too busy sticking to the format to make any sense...
-ANkh

Bored

I need some human interaction
Or at least a good distraction
I might as well be in traction
As live a life devoid of action

I am so bored
Bored
Bored
Why am I so bored?
Bored
Bored


I need someone to talk to
Something to think and something to do
I've got a catalogue to flick through
Does that sound appetising to you?

I am so bored
Bored
Bored
Why am I so bored?
Bored
Bored


I just want to go home
To end this frivolous roam
I'll sit on my nerd throne
And invade Berlin or kill a clone.

I'm just so damned bored!
It cannot be ignored
I need to go out and be scored
Or I might as well be freeze stored


I'M JUST SO FUCKING BORED!

Plane Ramblings

I am currently sitting in seat 12c listening to johnny Cash cut with punk rock.

My vessel sails over a patch of lake scattered wetlands north of Vancouver, unfortunately I cannot access this information first hand but instead must rely on a gps driven mapping program to inform me.

Why Do I Not Look Out A Window?

Simple: on an Airbus A330 the left side of row 12 has no windows. Bit of a downer.

According to the digital map We are passing “Norway House” home of an impressive sand spit.

What Is A Sand Spit?

A sand spit is a product of erosion and deposition, specifically it is caused by what is known as “Longshore Drift”.

Longshore Drift causes sand to be pulled along a beach. This works just fine until the beach gives way (i.e. the rock or other solid that the beach formed on are no longer there) then without a beach to bounce off the drift looses all of its strength and drop its load.

After some time the load forms more beach and the waves rebound off this making more deposited beach after that first stretch, this process continues until the sand source is cut off. (either by the complete erosion of the source or by human interaction in the form of building various barriers to stop the sand from leeching off “their” beach.

I just heard “Grace Kelly” by Mika, and I admit: I'm growing fond of it despite myself.

Now Johnny Cash is singing about his lover being the nearest thing to heaven... Boy oh boy do I miss my girl. Ten hours without the ability to send her some sort of short soppy message is killer.

Ah, that body of water is “Lake Winnipeg”, some more control over this GPS feed would be nice.

It is 11:02 Pacific Coast Time. 7:03pm at home.

That give me about 3 more hours in this accursed contraption.

Redhatt Bootstrap Linux! The in-flight entertainment computer just restarted. It is running RedHat Bootstrap Linux, I wonder if this is automatic or if someone is actually at a console somewhere...

It's taking quite a while to get running.

The stewardesses mentioned earlier that they had not been told how the system worked beforehand.

I wondering if this relates to wht is making the lites turn on and off randomly. Or the mysterious “Computer Problems” that delayed take off.

Interesting: It is again running its gps system for me to look at, but now it has a much more detaled feed, its telling me outside temperatures, wind speeds etc.

How odd.

So, this crate is Penguin Powered, how about that?

Do I Trust a Penguin Powered Plane?

Sure, why not? If you can't trust the nerdiest software around, who can you trust?

“Dreaming Dreams of driving a Zamboni, all over Saskatchewan” - Weird Al Yankovic.

I currently float due south of Saskatchewan. Which puts me probably in Canadian Airspace.

Here comes “Whole Wide World” by Wreckless Eric, a fairly soppy allegedly punk song. I wish this plane was aimed in the opposite direction.

Why Am I Crossing The Rockies When I Only Want To Cross The Irish Sea?

Beats me.

Ah, the child sitting across the aisle from me has woken to find that he is stil on that damned plane. You wouldn't be that excited by the prospect either.

I'm glad there is some punk on, because Mr. Cash would have a hard time drowning out this little fella.

Tell Me About The Airbus A330.

Well its a plane, It has two wings, it runs an in-flight entertainment system based on redhat linux.

It has all the standard trappings of a modern airliner. Big plastic everything. If it were to crash the emergency exit is one row in front of me, and manned by an elderly couple I don't trust.

But I'm just bitter because of the legroom I would have if I was sitting there.

Current status of Rory Glynn:

Tired : True.

Bored: True.

Lonely: True.

Sore: True.

Sleepy: True.

In Need Of A Visit To The Lavatory: True.

In Desperate Need Of A Visit to the Lavatory: False.

Full Of Piss And Vinegar: Always.

Breath Fresh: False

Dragon Breath: Possibly.

This trip marked a new high for me in painful long distance flying:

I ate the whole dinner except the yellow rubber and the cold pasta, twice.

Also I watched two films in their entirety.

Those films were:

The Cleaner

& Music and Lyrics

The Cleaner is a traditional “unlikely espionage” comedy movie. Much in the style of “The Man Who Knew Too Little”.

Music and Lyrics is a modern Hugh Grant movie where he plays his Four weddings and Gossford character, but with an inkling of backbone.

Both films made me feel lonesome for Seāna.

Okay, I think I'll go for that pee now.

-Rory

The Hole Song

When you leave,
You leave your hole behind!
When I come,
Its just your hole I find!

When you're hot,
You can be quite conductive.
But when you're cold,
Your not so seductive.

I need you,
to be more,
I need your:
to be impure!

You'll be better
I'm really hoping;
When I add a letter
In a process called Doping!

If you were N;
It would be conductive,
If you were P;
I would fall in your... hole.

This song is actually about the doping of Silicon chips.
Electronics

The Latest NESW From The Front

Hey there!
I'd like anyone who still looks in this direction to check out my new direction:
NESW!

I gotta go.

I gotta go.
I gotta go.
I gotta go, like the snow, hanging low on,
the branches of trees in Wintertime.
But now it's summertime.
And it is not sublime, the snow of Summertime.

I gotta leave
I gotta leave
I gotta leave, but do not grieve, for I will be back again.
When I come down this Track Again.

[Drum Solo]

I must be gone.
I must be gone.
I must be gone, because the Spring has been and gone.
And I'm not where I Belong.

I gotta dash.
I gotta dash.
I gotta dash, This girs a lash, but offers hash, from her stash.
And I can't be having That.
I'll get my hat, go feed my cat.

And now the Ramones, who's words echo through my bones...
Listen to the Ramones.

I gotta get away.
Gotta x6 Get Away.

Note: The term [Drum Solo] refers to some sort of musical interlude or rambling or whatever... Not an actual drum solo because i hate them.

Also: The capitalised words are to be sung at a higher pitch... like in a Yes song.

Wave

Here's a song which feels a bit Jimmy Eat World to me... See what you think.

Wave because you see her.
Wave because you know her.
Wave because you need her.
Wave because you want her.
Wave because you love her.

I have changed the second verse back to its original content because It feels better...

Wave because your in the water.
Wave to your son and daughter.
Wave because of the light in your eyes.
Wave because you hear their cries.
Wave because your not that tough.
Wave because you can never get enough.



A bit random... But I like it.

-ANkh

I Lobster

I Lobster.
You Lobster?
He Lobster!
She Lobster!
Us Lobster!
They Lobster!
Why Lobster?
How Lobster?
Who Lobster?
WHAT LOBSTER?

-Um... Lobster everybody!

Battling The Beast.

I'll chop off both your necks you freak!
Actually we have only one neck
But we've got a long spicky tail, and a beak
Oh Good! I'll send you back to heck.

That beak is sharp
like a carp
That's irrelevant
Like an elephant.

Yes I aknowledge that this is very bad.
-Rory Glynn