A piglet squid

Photo borrowed from Daily Mail

The title is slightly inaccurate. Boris Johnson described his 250,000 K  salary for his second job as a Telegraph columnist as “chickenfeed”, but I thought “chickenshit” had a better ring to it.

To many writers 250,000 K would seem an unattainable sum, and to add insult Boris remarks that he knocks out his work very quickly on a Sunday morning between his cornflakes and kedgeree, while it can take an author several years to write a book for which if he’s lucky he’ll end up with 10 K.

Still, I do love Boris for his renegade attitude, impossibly blond hair, the sheer beariness of him, and the fact that his opinions frequently coincide with mine, as they did on Monday of this week in his Telegraph column on Afghanistan and opium poppies. It’s something I have been saying for some time: why are opium poppies being grown in England, when they are being destroyed in Afghanistan, whose main source of income they are? The pharmaceuticals need opium poppies in order to create the morphine which is used to palliate extreme pain; why are they not buying it from a source that desperately needs the revenue? Where is the logic?

And please, does anybody know where to find the “pound sterling” sign of a French laptop keyboard?

Many thanks to EllieVellie for this splendid Golden Blog Award, of which I am as proud as I am unworthy.

As a recipient I am bound to:
1. Show the award in my blog.
2. Link back to the blog that tagged me.
3. Pass on the award to other blogs I enjoy.
4. Inform the bloggers of their award.

So I pass the award to:

La Vie en Rose

Starflight

The Vendee Blog

Deborah Rey

Talking about blood here.

We Brits are banned from giving it in France because we are full of mad cow disease, so this doesn’t concern us personally, but here’s something that I find a little worrying.

“Don du sang” is a frequently seen sign in towns and villages – it means “Blood donations”. There’s another version, though: “Collecte du sang“, meaning “Blood collections”, and I can’t help finding that somewhat sinister, overlaid with shades of Big Brother.

Giving blood implies a voluntary activity; having it collected, on the other hand, summons visions of stealthy tankers stopping outside houses during the small hours, with long supple tubes being fed through the windows by men in white overalls, tapping into the vital juice of the oblivious, slumbering residents.

Maybe I’m over-reacting, but just to be on the safe side, in case the “collectors” call,  we’ve decided to put a large notice on the gate: BEWARE, CONTAMINATED ENGLISH BLOOD. 

The only problem thrown up by Windows Vista so far has been with Office Premium 2000, and specifically Word. Whilst Access, Powerpoint, Excel – none of which I ever use – all worked perfectly when I installed them, Word kept failing. It loaded, but when I opened it there was no tool bar, and a message announcing “Word not responding”.

From searching the web I found that this is a fairly common problem. And I also found here what seems to be the easiest, quickest and most successful solution: Delete MS Office Live Add-in. It worked.  

Today we are taking the dogs for their first camping holiday in a tent.  Could be fun.

Or hell. 

New Boy doesn’t arrive until tomorrow, but when he does he’ll be wearing Windows Vista. Now, the very very very nice man at Boulanger (as opposed to the rude man with the face like a kugelsack at Planete Saturn), said that at installation I can select my own choice of language from Vista. Does that sound right? It’s no big problem if not, I can manage an OS in French, but in the mother-tongue would be preferable. So if you know the answer, be kind enough to share it.

Another question: Is Vista as horrible as so many people claim?

Here’s another one: M. Kugelsackface said that Windows 7 will be available for free download for computers bought after 30th June. M. Niceman said he didn’t know the answer, but thought Windows 7 was only for use with touchscreens.  Is that right?

If not (because New Boy doesn’t have a touchscreen), is Windows 7 a good idea?

Be a nice geek and give me some advice here.

Maybe I’m the last to find out about Spotify, but in case there’s anybody still out there who hasn’t heard the word, listen up.

It’s a neat little program that lets you listen to music on-line. Legal. Free. Lightning fast.

It downloads in a couple of minutes.

Try it!     Download Spotify

Enjoy.  

Sometimes we have to make difficult decisions. I have thought very long, and very hard, about making this traumatic change, and it is not without tremendous angst that I have finally committed myself irrevocably.

After a long and fruitful partnership, the time has come to call it a day. I have done my best to understand your odd quirks and occasional tantrums, not to mention certain times when there was a total lack of commitment and co-operation, but realistically I have to accept that it is time to move on.
We cannot continue like this, never knowing whether you are with me or against me. Patience is not one of my many virtues, but God knows I have done my best to humour you. And to be fair, I know that you have done your best, under difficult circumstances and in failing health. Both of you.

And so, Old Faithful and Understudy, this is to declare publicly, that with regret, as from this coming Thursday, as Sralun would say: “YOU’RE FIRED!”

You will both be stripped of your hard drives by Security, and then consigned to the recycling depot, in the unlikely case that they can find any remaining parts worth recycling.

You will be replaced by New Boy, who comes with integrated web-cam, super-sexy screen, two hearts beating as one, gigahertz all over the show, RAM coming out of his ears, and Windows Vista, which everybody says stinks but I’ll make up my own mind on that.

I should have done this long ago, but until now my marshmallow heart has ruled my toffee head. Now the head’s in control, so I wish you well, and thanks for the memory. I’ll never forget you, particularly all the times you crashed needlessly, corrupted my documents, and swallowed vital information into your own secret black hole.

Dear M. Responsable, Rayon Informatique, Planete Saturn

I write to offer you my most sincere thanks for your time this afternoon. Meeting you was an extraordinary and very profitable experience.

As I explained (once you had been physically dragged away from “bavarding” with your colleagues), I am looking for a new computer to replace the two decrepit models currently held together with string and sealing wax. I had seen the particular model I wanted, in your shop on Saturday afternoon, but not having sufficient money with me, came back today suitable approvisioned. Only to find that since Saturday the price of the machine had increased by €40.

With a singularly bored expression you announced that as the machines were selling so well, you had decided to increase the price. The Saturday price was a special offer (although there was no mention of it at the time.) You shrugged Gallicly.

I would like to buy the computer at the Saturday price. You said that was not possible, and began walking back to your chatting colleagues.

Whilst I was ready to leave the shop (ineffectual and rude salesmen (especially those as physically unattractive as yourself)) are one of my pet hates, TOH persuaded me to have a look at some other models in case there was amongst them one which might be an acceptable substitute for the one for which you were overcharging.

Having found two models which were similar but not identical to each other, we hoped to have an explanation from one of your staff as to the benefits of one over the other. But all three of you were lethargically talking to a young woman, (does it really take three of you to answer questions on your products?), so after waiting patiently but in vain for several minutes, we left Planète Saturn with my cheque book intact.

Why, then, cher M. Responsable, Rayon Informatique, should I be showering you with gratitude, given your incompetence, laziness and breathtaking insolence? Because, cher Monsieur, we went directly to Boulanger, where not only were we served quickly, politely, efficiently, enthusiastically and charmingly (all characteristics of which you were totally devoid), but we found a superior model of computer, and for €100 less! How lucky is that!

Let me say, cher M Responsable, that this letter is for you personally. No other salesman in Planète Saturn, has ever motivated us to seek a better deal elsewhere. On the contrary, they have always given us impeccable service, thus morally obliging us to purchase from them. But you are cut from a different mould! Bravo. Eternal gratitude. I shall recommend your department to anybody looking to save money on a computer.