So – a New Year. And the decline in my formulating resolutions continues.
2015 – was the year of social media, with the intention that I’d “just stop” as soon as it hit 2016. Which was successful, but I’m considering waiving the “just stop” stipulation, as it turns out the whole fbook thing was actually quite useful – especially when visiting home.
2016 – resolutions are still in the period of gestation.
1 – review stuff. I’ve managed to make a start on this, reviewing cafes/things on TripAdvisor & the Google. And I’m considering a full compare/contrast piece on chocolate milks at some point, as it seems that a couple of companies in New Zealand have finally put out some decent chocolate milk.
2 – something like “do more stuff” – which is a bit of a cop-out as it seems certain I’ll be doing that anyway, with a certain influence
3 – even more of a cop-out, something like “continue the good work of previous resolutions” – which would pretty much just allow me to continue doing all the things I want to do anyway such as “don’t drink shots”, “eat one-handed whenever possible”, “don’t eat bread”, “don’t eat anything white”, “drink more red wine”, etc etc – while also providing a loophole for re-immersion into a certain “social medium”.
New Year’s Eve – was good. Matarangi, swim at the beach, lots of kids about – then a “weatherbomb” rolled in, and the evening was spent performing the traditional and ceremonial “binge drink”, listening to a lot of HLAH, and some Darcy Clay – and at some point I was given a “bubble-bomb” – consisting of a handle of delicious champagne, with a sherry glass containing sparkling rose in the middle. And according to photos, after that there was some dancing, some red wine with Hayden after everybody else gave up, and then some champagne all alone.
Typical New Zealand New Year’s Eve
Since then, some bullet points would be:
- Quick visit with Lyn in Whangamata
- Few days with Chook in Tauranga, first night of which I sprained my ankle so was forced to stay for several days
- Playing with the niece and nephews
- A week or so at Akarangi – few bike rides, some squash, a hangi, etc
Other random observations:
- While I’m away, headlines in the UK announce “BRITAIN is braced for its coldest winter in 53 years”, with a “brutal SNOWBOMB” on the way, etc. To be fair – these are sourced from some of UK’s more ridiculous publications – but I’m still pretty smug about having summer in Aotearoa instead.
- I’m hoping at some point to re-publish some of the few posts I managed to salvage from the Google’s history of the previous incarnation of this… and maybe even, when I’m bored, write some very condensed retrospective bits.
And, it turns out that somebody else has the exact same desires, and the exact same lack of understanding of the english language.
Different phone number, same request (demand? simple statement?).
I am getting a little worried, but the intrigue is outweighing that for now.
So – got a text message this morning, from a number unknown to me, stating:
“I want ur dick ass and feet”
This has perplexed me, as you would expect.
- What does this person want with my “dick ass and feet”? What do they have planned for that combination of my body parts?
- How do I respond to this? Should I respond?
- But every time I start to ponder the above questions, I realise there is one question more pressing than all others, which needs to be answered before the other questions can even begin.
This, people, is why so-called “grammar nazis” exist, and are (often) justified… without grammar, multiple meanings are possible.
- Ignoring the “ur” – I’m going to assume this was meant as “your”, and just a case of modern lazy/mis-spelling…
(although intriguing possibilities multiply if that isn’t true… was it supposed to be “Ur”?)
- I don’t know if this person wants my dick, ass, and feet;
if they think my ass is dickish, but they want it anyway, plus my feet as a bonus;
or if they think both my ass and feet are ‘dick’, but want them anyway (or because of?).
I guess a true “grammar nazi” would make a point of taking the message at face value… that this person is crying out for feet, and some ancient Sumerian dick-filled (flavoured? patterned?) ass.
I know my grammar is far from perfect… I know there are grammatical errors in this very rant for people to gleefully and smugly point out. But I do try to at least use enough punctuation to make my ungrammatical ramblings unambiguous. I sometimes re-read an email at work a dozen times: inserting commas, semi-colons, even words – until I get some possible meaning out of it. And usually arrive at multiple interpretations to select from, often contradictory.
Grammar, particularly punctuation. And spelling. It could be the difference between you getting some smelly old Iraqi dick-smelling ass and feet; and my sweet dick, ass, and feet.
It’s worth the effort.
: another, optimistic, interpretation has been suggested – perhaps a secret admirer who has given me the nickname “ass and feet”.
Any other suggestions?
[edit2]: whoever this is, they’re persistent. A repeat message was received in the evening, reiterating their desire of my dick ass and feet. I had to respond, if only to get some more clues as to intentions.
So, it seems the company hosting my website has, well… disappeared.
And, like the professional-computer-nerd I am, I never took a back-up of main content.
I’m hoping to get something off the old company if I ever track them down, in the meantime… this is it.