The Grumpy Middle-aged Perfectionist

so, the time has come for me to get a spot on the web and moan like a crack-whore on a saturday night outside a kebab shop. I have decided to park myself "here" for the time being. I will do a lot of moaning, hopefully most of it will be legitimate. I want to moan, call it therapy if you will. Fuck it, nobody else listens nowdays as the modern world is all about "me me me me me, handout handout handout handout" whereas I grew up in a "us us us, build build build, community community community" style-household.

There, first post and alienated around half the population below 30. And just getting warmed up.

and on to the purpose of this post (and to slide in my first moan). I want to introduce myself, so the returning readers get an idea of the pleb behind the keyboard. My name is Warren. I didnt pick it, neither did my parents. Just some dumb shitheads cant pronounce a perfectly normal name, albeit not 100% english, so I have decided to use this mis-pronounciation instead. It makes life easier on those not blessed with two brain cells to rub together.

Mr Warren just cant stand bad design, or bad logic (I determine "bad" in this sense of the word to mean anything I dont agree with. You may stop reading now if you so choose.) Mr Warren will also wax lyrically about the good old days occasionally. As long as you understand good old days to mean 1980 and 1990. Before we all got this craving for "instant" fucking everything. Instant messaging, instant pvr tv loving. Mobile phone ring me whenever it is convenient for you lifestyles.

Which, quite naturally, brings me to my first point I am going to make. Mobile/cellular phones.
Those that know me also know I dont own one. Ok, sorry, that is a half-truth. I do own one, I just dont know where it is. I think it fell down the crack between the sofa cushions sometime in the last century and I havent bothered to go look for it. Some of you may think "my god, how can he survive", yet, here I am , perfectly functioning and breathing human being. And may I add, happier because of it. See, the damn things, you guys take them with you everywhere, you pull them out at the slightest opportunity to show your friends the blinky lights and download ringtones for 99c of a shit song that loops for 30sec when the actual full single song is that price on itunes. Basically, "they" have got you hooked on them. You are now part of a balance sheet. And you think you are cool because of it.

(tinfoil hats will be on sale at the end of this post)

secondly (thirdly?), people can now phone you when it is convenient. the problem is, convenient for who? the initiator of the phone call decides to ring you, because THEY have the time. However, there is no mobile phone on this planet that can tell you whether the person you are phoning is NOT busy fucking your mom at that moment. It may not be convenient for them to answer. Yet, the damn thing will ring. Like this "hammer time...duh du du duh, du duh, cant touch this" and now you expect the owner of the phone to drop everything, and push the button. Like a well trained chimpanzee. ringing sound=push button.

Whichever deity you listen to, let me tell you, he/she didnt design you as some entity well trained at responding to a noise by pushing a button. You are HUMAN, capable of thought. Capable of making a decision. You do not *have* to do anything. You ALWAYS have a choice.

Do the right thing, show your creator you are free-spirited and next time the phone rings, just ignore it. You will get a warm fuzzy feeling inside knowing you have just regained control of your life.

And if you are panicking that maybe someone really really needs to get hold of you, dont worry, if it is urgent they will ring again. And perhaps it may be convenient for you to pick it up this time. Or perhaps you will be doing something more important, like watching paint dry.