DD_Brando

Oh, yes please Dave - that's really gonna help me out. The 7 HP 64bit has only been activated once. I'll fire it off as soon as I can. Brill! Ross PS @ FT... Thanks for the kind thought Arjen. I could maybe have persuaded my neighbour, Catalina, to write Dutch things to Microsoft - but what things??? We'll never know

In an effort to get my strange friend back online I have purchased a discontinued Intel Deskboard which appears to have everything he needs. The only problem is that it is not supported by Windows 7 and I'm left needing a legit copy of XP. I have an OEM copy of Win 7 which I'd be happy to swap. If anyone is interested? B

Yeah. Sorry to rain on your parade Mick - nothing personal.

Can't really say I've ever trusted the Daily Telegraph further than I can spit. Only a Tory-backed rag could print a line like "...... iconic Spitfire aircraft buried in Burma during the Second World War are to be repatriated to Britain after an intervention by David Cameron." I can't help thinking that the phrase "repatriated to Britain" is entirely inappropriate and disrespectful too, considering the number of British soldiers whose deaths have really earned that soubriquet in the last decade. As some wag stated, "... a squadron of Spitfires? Well, at least we will have something to fly off our new carriers!"

That's the trouble with being an equal-opportunities employer! I take on an expert in mouse problems but I'm not allowed to sack him because he's got pointy ears and fishy breath. That's not PC, you see. But I will mention the tool belt and the lack of ESD strap. Best not to mention the ambidextrous thing - he'll just run up a tree.

Summed up in one photo

Not very sportsmanlike, sorry chaps, to interrupt a good yarn; but I will jump back to zZap's OT If you're still around zZappa, that machine would really benefit from another Gb of RAM.

We have another owner, er, cat. His monkey-name is Wilber, but his identity is really PC Stripe, Claw of the Law, Keeper of the path, the garden, the sofa; terror of the rodentii, squirrel-taker extraordinaire. AKA We came under their control just over five years ago

Point taken, Colin. But, honestly, even my cat is having a face/paw moment over that one.

Yeah, sorry for breaking off. Here we go again.... So my friend who has maybe 15 years experience of screwing up computers is wanting me to help him. First and foremost, I say, let's get into the BIOS and see what gives... Fire it up and hit Del when it beeps" So off we go but with no joy. No BIOS menu, just straight on into pre-post warning screens. Is it a USB keyboard? Check. Is it plugged in ? Of course - client is getting a bit shirty now. OK, repeat and rinse - hitting Del repeatedly when it POSTs, no joy After a little more of this I decide to get him to reset CMOS in case the BIOS is corrupted. Switch off; Jumper shifted; battery out. Wait for it...reverse....hit Del etc. Nada, nix, nuffink. Just warnings. So, just as we're going in for the umpteenth time, he says (or rather mumbles) there's a "spare wire" coming out of the keyboard. A spare wire? What sort of spare wire? "A white one with a purple plug on it." Oh, like a PS2 connector? I ask gently. Yes comes the reply, the keyboard isn't plugged in after all...... Can I just go "Aaaaaarrrgh!" now?

This one needs an honourable mention in the telephone-tech-support Hall of Infamy So I field a call today, Sunday(!), and it's a mate whose computer is playing up. Can I help him out? What can I say? Unfortunately I'm just rubbish at snappy comebacks. That special moment; when the lizard brain is shrieking - 'get under a rock. Quick!​' ; my in-grained schoolboy politeness totally prevents me from saying 'I'm so sorry, I'm just getting a taxi to the station - we're going sailing for a week in Scotland' and leaves me blurting the fatal "oh, sure, I'll help you out" I suppose that really was the instant referred to in the title, but for an even worse example read on... My mate is an okay guy, alright? He's forty-something, single, and quite intelligent. He read Economics at a well-known University; red-brick but with an excellent reputation; and took away an Honours degree in Economics which led eventually to a post in the flavour of the day Australian government. At some point he also sat a Master's degree in basic and bullshit and it has never gone away. To be continued...

It's a road sign? Placed at the apex of an Alpine hairpin it would look like a good definition of doubt (not to mention omg, wtf, and total panic!)

Thanks Leon, it may well be worth a coat of looking at! I just hope it stays factual and isn't in that irritating format where they have to remind you of what you're watching every five minutes - something allegedly related to the attention span of your average Homer Simpson-type viewer. I have to say that the title of the program doesn't fill me full of hope But I'll be watching it for sure cheers!

.... maybe......

At the end of the tax year the Tax Office sent an inspector to Audit the books of a Synagogue. While he was checking the books he turned to the Rabbi and said, "I notice you buy a lot of candles. What do you do with the candle drippings?" "Good question," noted the Rabbi. "We save them up and send them back to the candle makers, and every now and then they send us a free box of candles." Oh," replied the auditor, somewhat disappointed that his unusual question had a practical answer. But on he went, in his obnoxious way: "What about all these bread -wafer purchases? What do you do with the crumbs?" "Ah, yes," replied the Rabbi, realising that the inspector was trying to trap him with an unanswerable question. "We collect them and send them back to the manufacturers, and every now and then they send us a free box of bread wafers." "I see," replied the auditor, thinking hard about how he could fluster the know - it - all Rabbi. "Well, Rabbi," he went on, "what do you do with all the leftover foreskins from the circumcisions you perform?" "Here, too, we do not waste," answered the Rabbi. "What we do is save all the foreskins and send them to the Tax Office, and about once a year they send us a complete prick."

Ouch!

Welcome Zzulu Erm, there seems to be a bit of a mix-up going on. The "privet area" is a virtual hedge where Dogz gather for a communal cocking of legs - whereas the private area is where Dogz gather for ..... er......oh, well never mind. It appears that spelling doesn't mean anything here As you were. B