Cure
In a spirit of self-improvement I've started to address some of the painful aspects of my life, as mentioned in my previous post.
I've discovered that I can compensate for the lack of tap-tapness in my new shoes through the simple expedient of carrying castanets wherever I go. As I walk I can tap out an appropriate soundtrack, with the added benefit of being able to introduce complicated flourishes as the mood takes me. Suddenly everyone in the office is convinced that I'm performing surrupticious flamencos in the corridor while their backs are turned.
I've compensated for the scrolling on the digital recorder by realising that the machine has far greater flaws. If I tell it to record, say, The Simpsons, it will start recording at precisely 8pm and stop recording at precisely 8.30pm. This is a problem, as the weenies in charge of TV programming at Channel Ten don't seem to want to let any given episode of the preceeding Masterchef program end. Maybe they worry that any attempt to limit the goose that lays the golden ratings will kill it? Perhaps they do not understand the mysterious voodoo that made it popular and cannot approach the Make It Stop Now button without fear and trembling? Whatever the reason, I'm resigned to missing the denouement of every single episode of The Simpsons for here on. How I will cope without closure remains to be seen.
And finally, I've solved the issue with my iPod by deleting a whole bunch of music. The iPod only holds 18.55 Gbs, or about 4,500 songs, and I had more than 5,000 in iTunes. So goodbye to most of The Pixies. So long to Velocity Girl. Sod off to great swathes of Carter the Unstoppable Sex Machine, and tìoraidh! to anything Enya recorded after 1995. And unfortunately it's bon voyage and bin voyooge to several hours' worth of Goon Shows. I burnt them to a data DVD, so it's not like they're lost, but it won't be the same without random jokes suddenly popping up when I'm listening to music on shuffle.
Okay, so I lied about one of these solutions. You got me. As people who know me well will attest, I would never delete music off my iPod.
I've discovered that I can compensate for the lack of tap-tapness in my new shoes through the simple expedient of carrying castanets wherever I go. As I walk I can tap out an appropriate soundtrack, with the added benefit of being able to introduce complicated flourishes as the mood takes me. Suddenly everyone in the office is convinced that I'm performing surrupticious flamencos in the corridor while their backs are turned.
I've compensated for the scrolling on the digital recorder by realising that the machine has far greater flaws. If I tell it to record, say, The Simpsons, it will start recording at precisely 8pm and stop recording at precisely 8.30pm. This is a problem, as the weenies in charge of TV programming at Channel Ten don't seem to want to let any given episode of the preceeding Masterchef program end. Maybe they worry that any attempt to limit the goose that lays the golden ratings will kill it? Perhaps they do not understand the mysterious voodoo that made it popular and cannot approach the Make It Stop Now button without fear and trembling? Whatever the reason, I'm resigned to missing the denouement of every single episode of The Simpsons for here on. How I will cope without closure remains to be seen.
And finally, I've solved the issue with my iPod by deleting a whole bunch of music. The iPod only holds 18.55 Gbs, or about 4,500 songs, and I had more than 5,000 in iTunes. So goodbye to most of The Pixies. So long to Velocity Girl. Sod off to great swathes of Carter the Unstoppable Sex Machine, and tìoraidh! to anything Enya recorded after 1995. And unfortunately it's bon voyage and bin voyooge to several hours' worth of Goon Shows. I burnt them to a data DVD, so it's not like they're lost, but it won't be the same without random jokes suddenly popping up when I'm listening to music on shuffle.
Okay, so I lied about one of these solutions. You got me. As people who know me well will attest, I would never delete music off my iPod.
posted by Blandwagon at 12:56 PM
2 Comments:
Um. That's off OF your iPod.
Thanks.
Probably. But if that's the worst typo I do today, it will be my best day evar!
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