The Thread Of Complete Randomness

  • That's bloody weird.

  • Perhaps she should have the lawyer charged with murder. That might buck a few people up!

    Ian


    Works with chess - Not with life

  • Is there such a thing as slow electricity? I ask as I've noticed this: when I charge my phone at our London flat it gets up to 70-80% very quickly. Here at home in Scotland it definitely takes noticeably longer, I'm sure I'm not imagining it!

    Abandon all reason

  • Is there such a thing as slow electricity? I ask as I've noticed this: when I charge my phone at our London flat it gets up to 70-80% very quickly. Here at home in Scotland it definitely takes noticeably longer, I'm sure I'm not imagining it!

    The only thing that will slow this down is the power output and the demand used from that supply. Imagine 100 bulbs working on the same 240 Volt output, compared to say maybe 10 bulbs. Though the output is the same, the one with 10 lightbulbs will be brighter compared to 100. So you can compare your phone, let say to a single light bulb. The voltage will then drop depending on this demand on the grid.


    Often in the electricity industry, they use the term grid sharing. With more generating stations supplying a pacific area. So each power station's demand is a lot less on the grid they are supplying to reach the same output.

    Edited once, last by Noni ().

  • Is there such a thing as slow electricity? I ask as I've noticed this: when I charge my phone at our London flat it gets up to 70-80% very quickly. Here at home in Scotland it definitely takes noticeably longer, I'm sure I'm not imagining it!

    No, but the voltage could be different. If you have a voltmeter that does 250V, you could check it. If you had solar panels in London, it would be higher when sunny, as the panels have to output above mains voltage to force their output into the grid.

    Ian


    Works with chess - Not with life

  • Hopefully one good thing to come out of the pandemic will be the end of handshakes, a ridiculous and sometimes slightly nauseating custom. Elbow-bumping can sod off too. There's absolutely no need for physical contact when meeting people. A nod, a smile (or in my case a sort of half-scowl) and a a few kind words of greeting are all that's necessary.

    Spoken like a true Brit lol. For us "latins", the latter are genetically encoded.

  • Tyson Fury beats Wilder on KO.


    This his 3rd match that Tyson won, plus the 2nd, must has proved just how good Tyson Fury is.


    Wilder walked off not even knowledging Tyson's win, I thought this was rather ignorant and why I do not like Wilder. Most professional sports people would except defeat and praise the other winner.


    Finally after 3 fights, Fury can move on to other fights.:)

  • Last night I dreamt I was talking with comedian Alan Davies and 2 other people. I asked them to imagine this: in every kitchen is a chute and a tap. Into the chute we all scrape the leftovers and food scraps from our plates. The chutes convey the scraps to a central processing unit which combines everyone's scraps and converts them into gravy. The gravy is fed through another network of pipes which feed the taps. Thus, everyone has a gravy tap.


    Davies applauded me and said the idea was "genius".


    But it isn't, is it. It's absolutely disgusting.

    Abandon all reason

  • Last night I dreamt I was talking with comedian Alan Davies and 2 other people. I asked them to imagine this: in every kitchen is a chute and a tap. Into the chute we all scrape the leftovers and food scraps from our plates. The chutes convey the scraps to a central processing unit which combines everyone's scraps and converts them into gravy. The gravy is fed through another network of pipes which feed the taps. Thus, everyone has a gravy tap.


    Davies applauded me and said the idea was "genius".


    But it isn't, is it. It's absolutely disgusting.

    🤣


    You really wouldn't want those pipes bursting in the winter!

  • Reading about a councillor who's apologised for comments he made on social media involving laughing about dead grannies, demolishing green belt land, telling nurses to f*** off, etc. Leaving aside that and the fact that, as with all such cases, he's only apologising because he's been called out on his comments, I'm struck by the frequent use of that phrase "unreserved apologies" and "I apologise unreservedly". Has anyone ever pubicly offered their reserved apologies?


    "Reflecting on the comments I made, I apologise in a restricted, limited way." As opposed to wild, free-spirited apologies that dance around like inebriated elves.

    Abandon all reason

  • Reading about a councillor who's apologised for comments he made on social media involving laughing about dead grannies, demolishing green belt land, telling nurses to f*** off, etc. Leaving aside that and the fact that, as with all such cases, he's only apologising because he's been called out on his comments, I'm struck by the frequent use of that phrase "unreserved apologies" and "I apologise unreservedly". Has anyone ever pubicly offered their reserved apologies?


    "Reflecting on the comments I made, I apologise in a restricted, limited way." As opposed to wild, free-spirited apologies that dance around like inebriated elves.

    :D


    On a related note, the phrase 'apologize for any offense caused' always pisses me off mightily. A way to not apologize at all and make it seem like the target is at fault for not being able to take whatever the offense was in good humor. So it's another dig at them basically in the guise of an apology.

  • Sitting in a bar enjoying a cheese and jalapeño toastie and a lemonade. A customer claimed to his neighbour at the bar counter, who he'd just met, he was in the Sex Pistols, "but they never mention me. They probably will in future though." He explained all this at great length and with much detail. The poor stranger must've been losing the will to live.


    He's then detailed how he knew straight off this McLaren guy was trouble, he'd exploit them, and someone in the band would die. So he "resigned". But he knew they'd make it big, just as he did when he first heard Ronan Keating.


    I was inveigled into his monologue twice, to remind him of the names of Vivienne Westwood and Paul Weller. We then heard about his subsequent career in the Playboy club. He then advised him on his dress sense, saying instead of his jeans and leather jacket he should go for mod suits a la Jam-era Weller. Because "I know about this stuff."


    A bloke at another table unwisely dragged himself into it by suddenly piping up with the name of Weller's tailor. The ex-Pistol swivelled through 180 to aim his droning at Suit Guy.


    Turning back to Victim 1, he explained he loves rugby but no-one knows, because "it's a secret". We also had "I'm Phil, people say to me 'what, like Phil Mitchell?' as he's probably the most famous Phil."

    Victim 1 then left. The ex-Pistol then left shortly after, but just before he left he told the barwoman it took him "a third of 9 years to get over my experience in the music industry." So... that'll be 3 years then?


    I felt I'd just witnessed a real-life Fast Show sketch or that he was enacting Aldridge Pryor the Hopeless Liar from Viz.


    He was replaced at the counter by a big bloke who looks a little like Andy Bell out of Erasure, sitting with his back to me and giving me a grand view of his arse cleavage.


    Anyway I enjoyed my sandwich.

    Abandon all reason

  • It was very, very stormy this morning. I woke up extra early to get the first train to work as I thought there might be delays. The train service where I live is very fragile, for lack of a better word. If it's misty the damn thing is half an hour late.


    I stood there in the darkness, a little after 5am watching the trees bending wildly in these howling gales thinking, "there's not a snowball's chance in hell this train is gonna run", but also thinking that even if there are delays, I have enough buffer that it'll be ok.


    I could not believe my eyes when I saw the bright headlines of a train, around a minute late, cutting through the driving rain and plowing it's way nobly through the raging storm. "No fucking way" I thought. Gobsmacked.


    On I got and it pulled away and made steady, swift progress towards my place of employ until ten minutes into the thirty minute long journey it smashed straight into a sizable tree and lost all power. We sat in darkness for two and a half hours before they finally gave up and let us out into the storm to walk along the track, over mounds of rubble, to the next station. I'm now standing in the shivering cold, soaked, 3 hours after setting out, waiting for another train to complete the journey.


    Mother. Fucking. M. B. T. Fucking. A.