(written 20 November 2009)
I cheated at pool last night. I was playing a shot where I
had to cup my hand over one of our balls in order to rest the cue, and I played
my shot and then just kind of closed my hand around the ball and handed the cue
to Caron, and then when it was Gareth’s turn and we were strategising I placed
my hand over the corner pocket and dropped the ball in. Will the universe place
the banana peel of karma in my path?
My Outlook, whas ist miene email-client, has failed to open
up even once without saying that it wasn’t shut down properly and that it needs
to go and tie itself up with shoe laces and be spanked by a tall Moroccan woman
named Sasha before it can start up. And it’s not like I throw an anvil at it to
close it – I click the frikken little X at the top like I’m supposed to but no:
Sorry! Outlook wasn’t closed down properly last time because Jesus doesn’t like
you dissing him so hold on just a minute … … … … … … … OK! Bright & happy
now! Email away. I channel John Bender at miene fucking email client.
Just because you can write code doesn’t mean you can’t also
be a stupid fucking idiot:
So we found a piece of code this week, for an enquiry form
on a website, that gives the following instructions:
- 1: When
a user clicks the SUBMIT button, send the enquiry form to abc@company.co.za
- 2:
Unless the user selects a Regional Office from the drop down list, in which
case, send the form to the relevant email from the following list (and then a
list of “JHB > jhb@company.co.za; Cape Town > cpt@company.co.za” etc…)
- 3: If
the user doesn’t select a Regional Office, send the form to def@company.co.za
- 4: Make
it mandatory for a user to select a Regional Office from the list.
Someone had actually written that all out in HTML and gone
“righty-ho then – OK, and, SAVE! Hmmm… I wonder – ah! Peanuts! Yummy. Ooh –
look: a couple of raisins left too. Deeelish!” Key-riyst.
Other pieces of joy on los interwebs:
I am trying to register domain names for far flung countries
such as Uganda, Ghana and Angola – so www.website.co.ug, .co.gh and co.ao.
Luckily I am highly skilled in operating the little black clickety thing that
makes stuff move about on the big flat rectangular thing that makes the shiny
pictures, because otherwise it would have been really difficult – like trying
to remove Anthony Keidis’ head from way up his own asshole – rather than just
phenomenally hard – like trying to register domain names for countries such as
Uganda, Ghana and Angola. My afternoon of thankless toil was broken by the
joyful message at the top of the Angola domain name registering website, which
is in Portuguese and has a nice gigantic message at the top in Times New Roman
2852pt saying: “English Version Bellow”
“Untitled Week” by Tom Schwarer, 2009
(148.5mm x 210mm; Pencil on Spiral-bound notepad; hole top
centre inflicted by the artist):
I have made a picture of my life – actually the
1/120000000th of it that was last week - which features us going to brave the
Aftercare concert together (Sam & I have to be there - I’m not sure what
sort of self-flagellatory motivation makes Gareth lend us support at these
things…).
“Untitled Week” by Tom Schwarer, 2009 (148.5mm x 210mm;
Pencil on Spiral-bound notepad; hole top centre inflicted by the artist)
Anyhow, it was only thanks to our ingenious invention of the
Poor Man’s Tequila Sunrise that got use through the evening of Jesus songs
mixed with ultra-dumbed-down lip-synching (I get the feeling that the other
kids’ parents don’t sing along to the Moldy Peaches – it’s all Beyonce Beyonce
Beyonce straight down the line at their houses.) To whit:
Poor Man’s Tequila Sunrise:
1 x Can Fanta Orange
1 x last 4 shots Tequila in the bottle
1 x Bottle of Water
1 x Jacket
Method:
Empty the bottle of water; Laying the jacket over your arm
to cover the whole lot up, pour the tequila into to now empty water bottle. Top
off with Fanta. Screw lid back on bottle. Shake. Drink openly. Forget sorrows.
The rest of the picture shows me sitting in the dark in the
land of no electricity drawing a picture of my week; Caitlin singing a Jesus
song about how everyone gets a wobble (in their faith), surrounded by other
children also singing this song; my sunburn; the dogs; an advertisement + instructions
for mixing Poor Man’s Tequila Sunrise; blank space filled with useful
instructions on how to make Sam’s Mom’s video camera work.
Poem, describing our descent and slow return from the depths
of the firey pit of damnation and swamp-gas that was the Aftercare concert:
----------------------------------------------------
It was a normal summers day
We went to see the kiddies’ show
We sat down on the concrete steps
Just as the school-hall lights went low
Then horrors large and 18-armed
Piled up fast and thick and fast
Song on song, mime on mime
We thought each breath would be our last
Our eyes and ears lay on the floor
Beaten bleeding crying “-gaaarrr”
We wept and held each other close
And then we heard a voice from far:
It said “Take Fanta, mix it with
Tequila (look in your car boot)
Put it in a water bottle
Drink it up and you’ll get through’t!”
And so we did and slowly we
Crept back from the depths of hell
Like zombies given brand new brains
Who think that life is, well, just swell.
-----------------------------------------------------
Jimmy crack corn and I don’t care,
Tom
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