Saturday so it’s time, again, to recharge my time accelerator, also called my pill poppin’ weekly, morning and evening, organiser.
Other than that, all’s quiet with one more observation to make regards computers. And that would be how boring they actually are once you’ve basically beaten Bully Billy and got it doing wot you’d like it to do rather how a crowd of code kiddies would like you to like it to do.
Anyhoo, so’s not to be beaten into, like, total boredom, I popped over to this place for the first time with this kit. Damn! Oh dear, how sad, never mind. A weekend fiddling with the Firewall beckons then. It’s always Billy Port 445 is it not? See? He’s not for being beaten and will do anything he can to get the last, like, awesome chuckle up there on the mother ship.
Music you say? Why not it’s the weekend with clocks to attend to tonight.
You’ll all, I’m sure, be familiar with The Wellerman, right? Wot got me after a little look last night was the huge number of versions of said song there are out there. After the original, I kind o’ liked this take of it. Have at it this weekend. Oh, before you do the clicky thingy, give your ear buds a bit o’ bass, okay?
Give it a pass if you don’t want your head to wake you at three of a morning playing this repeatedly and insisting you silently sing along.
Quote; Alan Villiers.
“The singing of sea shanties as working songs at sea is a lost art.”
2 comments:
You don't hear many marching songs now either.
Or rugby songs.
But the catalogue of HR Department anthems is swelling. As is appropriate.
Heave ho, and up she, zie, zir, they, rises.
Oh Shenandoah, I long to see you, but in an entirely mutually consentual manner,
Doonhamer,
Love it. Very cleaver and, sadly, very true.
That's got to go up front next post. Thanks.
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