On saying something and instantly regretting it
Warning: This post may contain the very slightest traces of swear.
Last night I found myself saying that one phrase no man on God's Earth should ever utter. That one sentence that results in hour upon hour of shouting, screaming, physical abuse and - much , much later - a dreadful skull-cracking headache.
"Yes, I'll help you set up your wireless network."
This well-meaning gesture aimed at helping some blameless friend or relative in need do their shopping in front of Coronation Street will almost certainly, some eight hours later, end thussly:
"JUST CONNECT YOU FUCKING FUCKING FUCKING CUUUUUUUUUUUNT!"
"WHAT DO YOU MEAN 'UNABLE TO ASSIGN ADDRESS' YOU USELESS, USELESS FUCKERRRRRRR?!"
"PASSWORD? PASSWORD? THERE ISN'T A FUCKING BASTARD FUCKING PASSWORD YOU MONG OF A MACHINE!"
"Have you got a hammer?" "Why?" "I'm going to SMASH THE FUCKING THING TO FUCKING PIECES AND FORCE EACH AND EVERY ONE OF THEM VIOLENTLY UP YOUR RECTUM, Aunty Violet."
And Aunty Violet will then say: "Actually, it was only an idea. I hardly use the thing, anyway"; just before a brief, tragic train of events are set in motion that will alomst certainly see you written out of her will, and a body eventually turning up in a bathful of quicklime, clutching the smashed remains of a wireless router.
Or, you can just give up, and slink off home hours later, utterly defeated by nerd technology.
Ah, catharsis. That's why I set up this site.
Now: Does anybody know how to set up a wireless network? No reason, I just want to inflict pain.
News just in: I spent so long last night on this wireless non-network, I've only just realised that I missed the penultimate episode of Life on Mars. ARSE! ARSE! AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAARSE!
This: Misty done a thing.