My thoughts on inappropriate underpants

Today I had the kids at home all day; they are both under six but talking.

It was one of those days when I try to avoid them as much as possible, even though I am their guardian. There is an age old principle in parenting,
if they are crying, they are probably not dying, and this something I adhered to. But come about three I decided it would be good to at least give them one activity that didn't involve asking them to leave my office when there was an advert on whatever TV channel they were watching.

So I decided upon that stalwart, The Park.

They got dressed up as a bunny and a dog, as often they do, and I knew that I needed to get changed.

And for that, I needed underpants.

My domestic assistant does my washing. It's not a sexist thing, it's not a lazy thing. I do my things, she does hers. One of hers is doing my washing. And I must say, apart from the occasional fabric over-softening, She can't be faulted. But today, for the first time since I hired her, I was out of underpants.

There weren't even any available dry "one dayers" that any right minded guy would resort to. It was not a conspiracy, it was a black hole of underpants caused by the collision of various domestic singularities. It was the Perfect Storm (welcome to the first ever use of a storm metaphor to represent a lack of underpants).

I had two impatient kids dressed as super-sized pets standing in the hallway and I has no underpants. But I had options. Until you're strapped to the nuke, you always have options.

  • Go Bareback - I don't really like to do it. I don't know why. Its not just hygiene, there are chafing issues. There is the higher probability of "monkey tears" after the use of a urinal.
  • Go To Marks and Spencers and get some - it's just down the road. But it would probably involve leaving the kids at home.
  • Wear some of my wife's- I don't really have "transsexual" issues about this, I just don't like the idea of my wife wearing panties that I have worn. She is above that, in my mind.
  • Wear Swimming Trunks - There they were, in my drawer. In the drawer sans underpants, a pair of swimming trunks that would make an ideal pair of pants. Bingo!

Off we went. It emerged as an issue in my head, after a quarter of a mile, that my McGivered underpants would, for the rest of the day, be a real-time dual-side scrotal garrotte, with each step.

I tried to persevere, but it was just a few steps later that I realised that each step would also be but a stage in an endless cycle of self-wedgifying.
I had to go bareback. And I had to go bareback fast.

Bear Grills

I got out my ever-handy pocket Swiss Army Knife and cut the right side. I walked a few paces and cut the left side. That was that... I thought.

Even though there was a full collapse of underpant topology and morphology with those two cuts, the underpants would not budge. The fabric, 90% Nylon, 10% Elastic, grips like a goat on a bramble, and so there was not going to be any lateral sheer between my balls and this alien skin. No sir-eeeee, Bob.

I had to go in.

Both hands.

I want you to pause for a moment and imagine a man standing in the middle of a pavement accompanied by two young girls, dressed in a full-on bunny suit and dog suit, tails, ears the works, and this person has both of their hands in their trousers, to the forearms, and is "aggressively fidgeting".

I pulled and pulled the front side was free... then the back... it kind of fell like a flat jellyfish into the seam of my trousers and I thought rather than extract, I would leave... I had achieved my goal.... la liberte du lingeree.

I was done. Free!

My kids by now had run off. I closed my knife away and looked behind me. There, standing watching me, were four workmen working on the road.

There was a hiatus in my head. I raised my hands and shrugged and all I said, with an accompanying (I guess) dumb-looking smile, was , "There's nothing to say!" before I ran off after the two kids.... expecting at any moment to be gunnded down by a Black Ops Paedocopter.... To die a nonce with my makeshift pants slithered down my leg.

Swimming Trunks are for swimming.

My Thoughts on BBC's "The Passion"

The Passion is the BBC's new Easter Special; designed by The Hegemony with just one purpose:

To get bums back on this nation's pews; for just one reason:

To counter the damage done by Richard Dawkins and Tom Cruise to the notion of religious belief, think, "Children of God in Need".

It's an ambitious project - 2 hours of TV that needs to open everyone's eyes to the teachings of both the Kingdom of Heaven and the Word of The Lord; a scope probably not matched in breadth and complexity since Peter Jackson's LOTR Trilogy.

The Passion, based on a script written by The Disciple Formerly Known as Saul, could well have been the epic that it needed to be in order to meet the BBC's conversion targets, but there is one critical flaw.

It's not the miasma of textual contradiction inherent in the script or the fact that The Disciple Formerly Known as Saul was of questionable veracity before two millennia of editing, re-editing and censoring of his original narrative.

It's not even that Pontius Pilate speaks like Rab C Nesbitt.

It's the fact Jesus, in the show, is far too smug.

OK, so he is the Son of God. He knows he's special, but Nazarine or No-zarine, there is just no call for smug.

This Jesus walks the messianic walk, and all that jazz, he can even do humble, but there is always that smug smarmy "holier than thou" look on his face.

If that's the Messiah....maseltov!!!

my thoughts on the BBC iPlayer on the Apple Ipod Touch

So this is just launched... I shall give it a whirl....

Hummm..... It looks just like the Desktop version....

Categories>Comedy>Late Edition... here it is playing.....

Its play and browse.

The pictures are a little bit thatcopyofTheMatrixIboughtonPatPongin2003

It is steaming smooth and sound is in sync.

This is great.

This is new.

The is the BBC on my Iphone in My time.

We were thinking of getting a telly for the bedroom.... but now... maybe not.

I love it when a Saturday Morning has a lil paradigm shift.

My thoughts on Jonathan Coulton

I heard this musician talking on this weeks TWIT (133) and thought he sounded smart and funny, didn't really hear his music.

I liked the fact he realsed his work under Creative Commons.

I did an itunes and bought his album for my delightful ipod touch. I liked that album and then acquired, via the Bitorrent fairy, his "Thing a Week" Albums. Now I'm not sure if I stole these or not.... but I am erring on the site of less caution.

Creative Commons means Its OK to act like a common thief about other people's creativity, Discuss

Whats It Like?

Its musically excellent, diverse and interesting... sometimes funky.... sometimes country... eletcronic and acoustic... jazz/blues and blues/jazz.

Lyrically, its of the same caliber, more so.
It crackles with humor and insight and satire and romance and .... futurevisions. We have been thinking laughing and dancing. Super!

He sings about the big things and the little things, and, as any techlarised troubadour must, Flickr, Ikea and Zombies.

It is possible to label all musical experiences and media with a single term. In this case, jinglejanglejungleist, but don't take my word for it, listen to his music in your browser right here on his website.

This is also him, its the credits from the Game, Portal:

Jonathan Coulton, take it to the bridge....

My thoughs on Mad Men

I remember way back when, watching the first episode of The Sopranos.... and just thinking ... as the ducks did their thing (or was it geese?)..... that this was going to be good good TV. It turned out to be the best TV ever, IMHO. But now its done....

Last night I watched the first episode of Madmen, by the same man who made The Sopranoes, and felt very similar.

I wont even go into a description, watch online, this week only, in the BBC IPlayer:

Fingers crossed the series is perfect. here is my quick into guide to the male characters: