Saturday, July 23, 2005

Babe, You Can't Turn Me On

Hmm. My new life as a recovering co-dependent ("a period of time alone is crucial," according to Marie Claire. I hope their features editor realises that there are people out here who are following this advice to the letter and that she's fully prepared for the angry mob of wailing, masochistic doormats who will inevitably march on King's Reach Tower (we can do stuff in herd formation, see?) when it all goes horribly wrong) has hit a major and unexpected obstacle, before it's even really got underway.

I often claim that I never watch TV when I'm on my own (I know I said yesterday that I've never been on my own, but obviously I was lying) because I don't know how to switch it on. I've always assumed that this was a hilarious joke on my part, because what functioning, thirtysomething company director doesn't know how to turn on a television, for God's sake?

Ah. Hmm.

So this evening I thought I might settle down on the sofa in my pyjamas* and watch some old rubbish, a la Bridget Jones. But no. Can I turn on the telly? No, I can not. Yes, it's plugged in. Yes, the socket is switched on. Yes, I've managed to locate the "power" button, and yes, I've pressed it a number of times. No reaction whatsoever. Nada. What the bloody hell am I supposed to do now?

Christ, this solitary life is difficult.

On the bright side, I *did* learn today how to hack into an iPod, replace the Apple firmware with Linux and install a Spectrum emulator (the litmus test for all hacking experiments, it seems) on it, so it's not all techno-woe. If only I owned an iPod...

Nooooo! *Now* I find out that the quite frankly fantastically funny, talented and attractive Julian Barratt was at today's geekfest too. WHY did I not know this in advance? Still, I did make eye contact with The People's Internet And Snack Confectionery Hero, Dave Green. One day I might be brave enough to actually speak to him. At which point I will immediately blow my techno-cred by getting all giggly and confused and admitting I don't know how to turn the TV on.

Tomorrow I plan to hire a Transit van. No reason**. I just really like driving vans.

* It turns out I don't actually own any pyjamas. I'm really crap at this.
** Apart from moving house, of course.

13 comments:

Smat said...

Perhaps we need to re-institute the 'Life Skills Survival Course' from many moons ago - phoning taxis, switching on the kettle, telephoning the bloke you were madly obsessing over without dribbling all over the carpet afterwards.......

patroclus said...

Smat, you aren't helping. Great to see you, though!

I suppose I'd better buy a kettle then, had I?

Smat said...

All of life's neccessities can be purchased at Sainsbury's, IKEA, and Argos, all handily situated on the Purley Way, Croydon.

Smat said...

and while you're still a 'recovering co-dependant', get a freeview box, then you can follow Rock Star:INXS on VH-1, just like me. But then I'm sad.

cello said...

How did the van driving go?

Fizzy good said...

Sometimes you have to press 6 or standby on the zapper when the little light next to the power button is on red. On mine, anyway.

Do you call it a zapper? I know some people who call it a doofer, but I think they're just unwell.

Smat said...

it's a "wotsit-thingy-controller-no-not-that-one-the-grey-one-stop-flicking-through-the-channels"

Herge Smith said...

Driving vans is ace. You're all up high, you can look into other peoples cars, and other drivers fear you because of all the van urban myths. (some based on fact).

You really didn't miss anything by not being able to switch on the telly... there was nothing on.

patroclus said...

I know Herge, it's great. And you can also pull up at the lights next to some hapless (probably co-dependent) female in a silvery sports car, lean out of your window and say "Excuse me love, what's the best way....into your knickers?". Only I wouldn't do that, of course, because I'm a girl. But it did happen to me once, on the A4 Bath Road in Slough. And it made me laugh all the way home.

Konrad said...

This T.V. thing reminds me of something. A joke about an Eastern Germany guy who calls Media Markt and complains that his Sony V.C.R. doesn't work. He finally finds the power button and screams: It works, it works!!!!!!!
Most amazing is the patience of the Media Markt service guy.

Wyndham said...

If I can get hold of one of them vans, can anybody lend me a Jack Russell for the day?

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