Now blogger has pop-ups telling me about its new and great improvements, stuff it.
Some things are meant to be invented and this is one of them. I want a dozen delivered for my birthday, passionfruit flavour would be nice and raspberry of course. How delicious does this look.
I hadn't realized that a week had passed since I blogged. Passing out in front of a warm fire will do that. The Weather Bureau announced that we had more warm days in July this year than last year. I do not believe them. If it wasn't so traumatic, I'd get last year's diary out and check but that means seeing what mother was up to and it's bad enough this year. She was cold yesterday, that's SHE, the one who is in the warm bed talking to the dipstick who'd just come in out of the freezing July. She has a cotton blanket, two mohair rugs and a flanny nightdress on. She can't find her other blankets. That's because the stupid old bat made me take them home a month ago because they were too heavy on her legs. AAAAAAAAnd here it comes, the last word as always, 'was I sure?'
So, we continue with the internet. All of a sudden I can't log on again. Mr. Terrribly Efficient had put in a pop-up box that won't let any updates go on without my permission which included me trying to log on. For once Windows was a help, that'll go down a treat at Head Office when they get a yes, it was a help instead of the usual fuckoffno. The setting was on halfway and it needed to be on high, it comes up, I say yes and internet log on window appears. I can't believe how many apps are running along with my log on. I still want my XP back.
Now for the scam news. After all the drama, I get a phone call from an African, not racist, I know the accent from the girls down at the Home, he was gabbling, I yelled since this was 9 o'clock at night. Something about my computer and it was sending virus signals to Microsoft. Another African takes the phone, the supervisor and easier but not much, to understand. I said everything was fixed and virus scans detected nothing. He insisted that I sit at my computer and hand over remote control to him before my computer was damaged beyond repair and I passed on the virus intent on world domination. Well that's what it sounded like. He had the nerve to tell me not to yell, me, who yells at robot calls. God how I miss the old fashioned phones that one could smash down and shatter ear drums.
Next day, another call, another African but much more refined in English. Computer virus detected at Microsoft, danger of cyber crime, virus world domination, must hand over remote control or zombies will eat my brain. They shouldn't have given me a day to prepare, bad mistake. Which of my 3 computers is in danger.....crickets chirp.....the one you are sitting at.....I'm on the phone.....crickets chirp.....aren't all 3 of your computers at the same IP address.....of course not........why not?.......my husband, the IT consultant likes to change and test virus programmes........crickets chirp....chirp.....chirp.....clunk. Damn, didn't get to use my last bomb. I'll keep it until next time, that's the one where I tell him, his call will be recorded and sent to the fraud squad for performance evaulation.
And I still want my XP back.