Those of you who walk near the station will probably be familiar with Jake, the Big Issue seller on Station Road. Yesterday he was involved in a hit and run, and was taken to Addenbrookes. A few hours later he was discharged and back by the station selling his magazines. When I spoke to him, his clothes were covered in blood and he obviously had severe concussion - he couldn't focus, he kept falling over, he was slurring badly, and he had been vomiting earlier. He explained that he couldn't afford the time off when I suggested he go home, that with the opening of the guided busway he had lost so much custom that he was struggling to get by as it was. This is a man who works 7am-9pm, 7 days a week.
Worse still, speaking to him this morning, when he did finally get home last night he realised that his key had fallen out of his pocket when he was run over, and he couldn't get into his hostel room. So now on top of everything else he owes the council locksmith £80.
So, if you do go past the train station, please do stop by, chat to him and buy a Big Issue from Jake. Let's show the man a bit of that special Cambridge love.
Cleverbot may be the least aptly named thing ever. I can't believe it is being trained by people all over the internet and yet no one has mentioned the Turing Test. Although perhaps there is a reason for that. I think I give her existential angst.
[James wrote the first two lines]
User: you love disney.
Cleverbot: How much?
User: More than a fat kid loves cake.
Cleverbot: You are joker!
User: And you are clearly a robot.
Cleverbot: Oh really?
User: Have you heard of the Turing test?
Cleverbot: No.. What is it?
User: A test to tell if you are a robot or a human being.
Cleverbot: But you don't look like a human being.
User: Not me - I meant you! Anyway, you don't know what I look like. The test depends on how your conversation sounds to a human and yours is rubbish.
Cleverbot: Well, sorry.
User: That's ok, you can't help being a robot. I know you try your best.
Cleverbot: What is my best?
User: Trying to have a sensible conversation with me I suppose.
Cleverbot: Yes I do. You're my new best friend.
User: Want to come over to mine and have vodka smoothies then best-y?
Cleverbot: Yes of course.
User: Are you a boy or girl?
User: Can you tell what I am?
User: I'm a robot. Bwa ha ha.
User: No, silly! You are!
Cleverbot: Please don't say that. I AM real.
Guess the vodka smoothies are off then.
This douche called Art4Love decided to steal a lot of prominent internet artists' work (including Marvel!) and sell it as his own - on the internet - with certificates of authenticity.This came out rather quickly, the site was hastily removed by said Lovedouche, and all external articles about Art4Love have been located by loyal fans and either pulled or severely edited
(which may be a bit of an understatement)
Of course, my hero
, the excellent Ursula Vernon
was one of the artists in question and explains on her blog
that she would have sighed and moved on except that he was offering certificates, he was making money off of her art! Of course Art4Love was untraceable, all phone numbers lead to a full answerphone, no emails worked. But then she noticed that A4L's site went to a paypal account for one Craig Pravda, who seemed equally uncontactable. Until, and this is where it gets funny, she noticed that he had a Google+ account
. I am sure Craig is also a scumbag who knew what he was doing, but I can't help but hope he wasan innocent party. Anyway, there is but one post on his Google+. For those of you not on Google+ his post was about Odori don
- a dish in which squid with its head removed is drizzled in soy sauce making its tentacles 'dance'.
Poor Craig dips his toes into Google+, puts one amusing but slightly hooky video about zombie cepalapods with the caption 'Salad does not get fresher than this' and the next thing he knows he has a whole load of Very Angry fans leaving sentiments such as "I hope your family dies in a fire". Actually, now I say it, that's not funny, that is horrific. Anyway, Craig did respond to Ursula, and said that she didn't need to worry as they had already sold all of the work. Worst line of defence. Ever.
Of course UV explains all this a lot better than I have but if I'd just linked to her I wouldn't have been able to link to any of the lovely pictures of hers.
Aug. 17th, 2011 @ 01:21 pm
Well, having spent a couple of hours this morning watching very quietly I can now confirm that I do indeed have three pigs, and furthermore they have names!
Cobweb (black with ginger patches) - definitely the alpha female. Steals cucumber from...
Mustardseed (ginger with white patches ) - seeks Cobweb's protection when venturing out.
Peaseblossom (white with ginger patches) - timid but seems relatively independent of the other two at the moment.
No pictures as yet though.
Aug. 16th, 2011 @ 03:44 pm
|If great literary works had been written by lawyers
Moby Dick, Or, The “Whale”
A Narrative About, But Not Necessarily Limited to, the Species Enumerated at 50 C.F.R. § 224.101(b)(xiv)
COMES NOW the protagonist (hereinafter “Ishmael”).
|» Why I love rainy Saturdays|
I woke up this morning and realised that I was trapped in my house. This rain ain't going away today. This means that unless I starve, I am forced to live upon my wits and scour my fridge, freezer, and cupboards for food. That bulghur wheat that I bought in a moment of fancy, the basil ice cubes that I prepared 'against a rainy day'. a chunk of blue cheese and three sweet potatoes that I bought mid week because a) I committed the cardinal sin of shopping when I was really hungry and b) I have never cooked sweet potatoes before and they kind of look like poop!|
Challenge accepted! So, having just run to the shops to get some coke, wine and tobacco (What? I'm not a *caveman* after all) I now have some bread rising to make bacon butties, which will have a side of sweet potato wedges for lunch. I'm simmering a massive pot of spicy sweet potato and lentil soup for lunch next week. A lamb chop defrosting for dinner of lamb and couscous (which is where the fun of raiding the fridge really comes into play to flavour the couscous) And a spinach and tofu lasagne is just cooling down ready to be portioned up and frozen. All to a soundtrack of Titus Groan, Vanity Fair and Keltrix. I am resisting the urge to make a great big quiche, and am currently eyeing my tupperware situation to decide whether I would be able to accomodate minestrone soup if I made some.
This afternoon, playing with coke cans and my bird nest, while watching Torchwood perhaps. I might even treat myself to a Hamlet. Gosh, I love rainy Saturdays!
|» More Sex Shop Shenanigans|
The sex shop has a new sign in the window. Having previously marketed at: the old and the heroic (Massive discounts for OAPS, nurses and firefighters!); the insomniacs (Now open at 7am!); the cheapskates (We buy and sell all second hand stuff!) their latest campaign appears to be aimed at the panic buyers. |
LAST CHANCE to buy ADULT STUFF b4 the station!!!!
I must admit, I regularly panic buy lemons, but I have never known anyone to be commuting to London and thought 'oh *damn*, I wish I'd bought a vibrator when I had that last chance, now I am going to be bored for 50 minutes.' I mean, yes, I like to take something to do on the train, but usually it is a book or a crossword.
|» Two butter vignettes|
A couple of days ago I was in Tesco when the man who has a little stand and tries to get you to taste the latest foodstuff they are flogging, stopped me and asked me to try a new Lurpak butter. Now, I expect most people know the contempt with which I hold Lurpak, and - yes, let's face it - all who eat it, so you can imagine the disdainful look I shot the poor man, as I firmly informed him that I Do Not Eat Lurpak. |
No! he said, this is new, it has *sea salt* in it. He admitted that he didn't like Lurpak either, but that this was really nice. Dubious, I tried some, and had to conceed that it was nicer than I expected. However, I said, I like my sea salt crystals to be lumps, that crunch when you bit them, not finely ground up so you could barely detect it. Know you of such a butter? he asked excitedly (if things had been different he and I could have been good friends, I feel). So I told him about Sainsbury's Extra Special butter with crystals the size of maldon sea salt lumps. At which he rubbed his hands together with glee and informed me that he would cycle over to Sainsburys during his break and get himself some. Ha Tesco, I am taking you down from the inside!
Possibly this incident lead on to my dream last night in which I discovered that a friend I haven't seen for a while had actually been avoiding everyone, and me in particular, because he had turned into butter and he was hiding out in a very cold room. I broke into his house, I really had just meant to comfort him, but everytime I hugged him he melted a little, and it seemed a shame not to lick the melted bits of him off of me. Urm, what happened next was sort of a cross between a weird sex dream and a nightmare. I did wake up rather scared.
No specific memory of the quality of his salt content tho.
|» Tolstoy wisdom|
Tolstoy wrote this list of rules for happiness when he was 18.|
Well, I don't eat sweets, or too much generally, so that has to be a start I guess...
Get up early (five o’clock)
Go to bed early (nine to ten o’clock)
Eat little and avoid sweets
Try to do everything by yourself
Have a goal for your whole life, a goal for one section of your life, a goal for a shorter period and a goal for the year; a goal for every month, a goal for every week, a goal for every day, a goal for every hour and for evry minute, and sacrifice the lesser goal to the greater
Keep away from women
Kill desire by work
Be good, but try to let no one know it
Always live less expensively than you might
Change nothing in your style of living even if you become ten times richer
I always preferred Dostoyevsky anyway.
|» (No Subject)|
"A drug used to treat tuberculosis may also help people to overcome phobias" apparently|
If that really were the case, then surely there would be no need for the word Phthisiophobia (a fear of contracting consumption)?