French Connection U.K. - ing computers, goddamn them and their spawn unto the 71st generation; sometimes it's almost, almost like I could forfeit all of their benefits for the lack of stress not ever using one entails. They wind me up that much.

Of course, then I wouldn't be able to show off all my toys to you guys so I guess I'll have to battle through with it

Also I must mention here; for the sake of not going off on yet another tangent and losing a good thread; that the titular band of this very entry is gonna get its own dedicated blogificationalisement soon.... but anyway -

- Yeah, *fruitcage* ing computers are *fruitcage* ing *beep* : mine `went down` today (and that's an I.T. industry term for "I don't know what I did but I sure as hell won't admit I could be to blame") and it was not network related; I'm not even on a network because we're a 2-bit company that rents an oddment of land from the Railway people - Railtrack; Network Rail; Spacia; Trackwork = who the hell actually designs the timetables out of that lot anyway??!!? - and we are hardly prestigious enough to own more than one PC [even if those 2 aforementioned `bits` are each 6 feet long and made of solid gold and with diamonds set into them].

And in any case it wasn't the fault of any other networked machine, also, it wasn't related to any of that regular and beloved maintenance that we all look forward to so much - today it has been defrag'ed (3 times), disk cleaned-up, system application and security files logged and deleted (twice), `internet options` completely removed, the desktop cleaned up, My Computer managed as much as it can be; no scandisk performed because "XP Doesn't Need Scandisk; Derp!!" *fruitcage* ing XP.....

Nothing I could think of - I even uninstalled the Realplayer version that had bizarrely survived my last scouring - even though I hate RealNetwork's guts with more passion that Cassanover on Viagra - and I terminated any and all other ###### that had wormed its way onto the system with extreme prejudice; I would have taunted its upbringing and mocked its parents' employment situation had I found any viable ground to stand on in that respect: I was feeling preju- motherfunking -diced, and then some.

It had me riled up a little bit.

Yet the bloody thing still runs like a leper in a garden centre (have you ever noticed how many things you bump into in garden centres that really dig into your legs???) it's *fruitcage* ing lame, defunct, null and void; were it to have been fit for burial it would be pushing up the daisies, I almost suspect it to have been nailed to the desk, it has almost ceased to be; this, is a virtually ex-computarrr!!

Okay, so that was blatantly an excuse for a Mony Python parody, but the case still stands that I am as irate as John Cleese in a pet shop holding a dead parrot.

Good job I didn't actually pay for this system (oh thank you, jesus, for these IT budgets we are allowed to have; and thank you ever so much more for the naiivity of the tech-illiterate Owner of this company - "why, yes, of course we'll need around the £1500 mark for a new system from Novatech *barely controls smirking laughter* ... ") otherwise I would be miffed.

Oh well. I'll do my best not to cave in the heads of any customers or bite their faces off while apparently providing Customer Service tomorrow (I'll bloody service you matey, right alongside the ****-ing earhole!!) and just have to hope that I can resolve it like the last few times this happened.

If not, well, then there'll probably be some dark and woeful tales from Hampshire Constabulary in years to come; concerning the Deranged IT Manager and the case of the Railway Yard Massacre......`