Never bet against a Geek

I have been sorting out the To-Sort folders on my machines, it’s a job you can tell is long overdue by the recursive To-Sort folders that have moved from long dead machines to the To-Sort folders of newer machines. In one of these long distant folders I found a photograph, which reminded me of a story. A story I am going to share with you dear Constant Reader because it teaches an important message. “Never bet against Geeks” because they are resourceful and think outside the box.

It was December 2002, University’s had broken up for the Christmas¬† break and there was a group of us out celebrating seeing each other again after the long semester.

An Important fact to remember is that in 2002 mobile phones were not as common as they are now. Very few people had them, and even less carried them about due to their large size. Oh, and a phone with a camera, that was pure science fiction.

So there we were, several pubs along our way through a pub crawl when someone mentioned that it would be great if we had a photo to remember the night. But who takes a camera out with them on a pub crawl?

We had no chance right?

Well that’s what the majority of the group decided, and I say majority because there was two of us who decided there must be a way, nothing is impossible right?

So, we were out in the middle of the local town, slightly drunk, with no camera and the need to get a photograph. We had no chance, right? The rest of our group were so positive they even made a small wager. A wager of several drinks was involved. This was their big mistake.

You do not give a geek a puzzle. If you do, you do not tell the geeks its impossible. And if you really do that, you really do not add a wager of beer!!

We had no chance right?

Correct, we did not have “No Chance” we had “Every Chance” for we were geeks. I recalled there was a webcam setup in the window of the local council offices, so if we stood in the area it pointed at we would be in a picture. We just needed someone to go to the webpage and grab a screen shot of the image. This is where my fellow Geek, popped into a phone box, phoned his Uni digs, where he knew one of his room mates would be about to do the necessary.

So we organised a signal, and went to go stand in front of the webcam, While 100 miles away someone sat at their computer and waited for the signal, then did a screen capture, and emailed us the image.

Challenge completed, a photo of the evening was procured. and many free drinks were had.

So, dear Constant Reader never bet against a geek, for as the bible says “The Geek will inherent the earth

Wayne - Rael - Wrexham Web Cam (14  DEC 2002)

USA – Secret Summit


I recently had a mini holiday in Pwllheli, I’d gone to visit some old friends who were holidaying there at the time (*EDIT: Oddly all the friends there can probably be found in The Pleasuredome rest home for the mentally unstable.) This Mini-Holiday led to several thoughts, events, Stories that will make it onto this Blog. This one is titled :-

“USA – Secret Summit”

I took a rather random and scenic route from my part of North Wales, to Pwllheli, for several reasons like :-

  1. Diversions/Road Closures
  2. A SatNav that refuse to talk to any Satellites
  3. The Avoidance of a road where I had a really nasty crash the last time I drove to Pwllheli to meet a Dome Spod.
  4. & The fact I was not really paying that much attention to where I was going since I knew the basic route.

So there I was happily driving along a small mountain road with little or no traffic when I noticed a large hall in the trees that was oddly flying several American flags. “Thants Odd” I thought. And I decided it was a lot odder when I got closer to the building to find a large car-park full of large cars, all sporting those American bonnet flags you see on embassy/presidential cars.

So what I would like to know from the American readers is. What secret official summit were you guys having in a hall hidden away up in the Welsh mountains?

FAQ: Spod? Spod? What the Frak is a Spod?

I often refer to myself as a SPOD. due to my years Spodding on different telnet talkers and the like, Unfortunately I now often get asked “What is a Spod?” from the uninitiated youngsters that litter the Interwebs these days. So since its a semi-FAQ I hunted out the old description of Spod from the help files on some Talkers that are still floating about if you know where to look.

Spod (n)

– A person who is nearly always found slumped over a keyboard, usually from the minute they awaken (if they even slept at all) to the minute they pass-out on their keyboard.

And Now for Something Completely Different

Time seems to be flowing a lot faster than normal these days, I swear I only have to blink and several days have flown past. For example I was considering writing this post Monday, I blinked, made myself a cup of Coffee and its now Thursday Friday? Anyway, here goes the actual post :-

Its been a few years now since I have done a “what I did the Weekend” style post. And I’m feeling nostalgic for reasons you will discover by the time you finish reading this post, so here goes for old time sake.

What I did The Weekend.


Nothing compares to a penguin.

I have recently reconnected with some old friends on various Social Networking sites, and we have been catching up and reminding each other of various stories and escapades from the past. I will probably post a few of the more “safe” stories on here at some point.¬† Until then, and to counter the last post of mine which was political, here is a series of quotes that were recorded at the 1997 Birmingham Spod meet (See I told you I would Post them! I just needed to find the bit of paper)

Basically someone said something that sounded “dodgy” so a pen & paper was found and people started making a list of all the innocent things said that could be taken out of context and sound “iffy”. There was a running count being kept of who was winning.


Pleasuredome rest home for the mentally unstable.

Some nostalgia found on the old Pleasuredome website (c)99

The sign on the gate said

Pleasuredome rest home for the mentally unstable.

Wheels crunched on the gravel path. An old man in an armored wheelchair rolled past, pointing his plastic pulse rifle at invisible aliens and grinning widely. He turned the corner and vanished into a clump of bushes with a cry of “We’re in the pipe 5 by 5!” The visitors walked on.

In the center of the lawn, an old man bounced happily on a double bed in the middle of a small lake. Several nurses were trying to persuade him to come back to shore, but he ignored them, staring longingly at the clouds.

At the edge of the lake, another old man with a grey mustache sat cheerfully in a model hovercraft. He waved at the visitors and offered them one of a number of toy rubber eels which shared the craft with him, but the visitors declined and hurried on.

Further on, a group of old women had set up camp around an oak tree, in which sat a rather worried looking old man. Several of the women were shouting for him to come down and be hugged, but he refused. One of the women, who for some reason had twin Supersoakers strapped to her zimmerframe, was hurling abuse and sarcastic remarks. The visitors took a slight detour to avoid them, and almost ran into an old man with long grey hair who was ignoring all attempts to persuade him to leave his computer and come eat.

Nearer to the house, more and more of the old people were sprawled on the lawn, staring at the screens of various laptop computers. Several power outlets had been set up at convenient intervals on the lawn. One or two of the old folks noticed the visitors and giggled insanely at some private joke.

At last the visitors reached their objective. A tall old man sat hunched over his computer near a clump of willow trees. His gnarled and arthritic old hands tapped patiently on the keyboard. The visitors stood behind him at a respectful distance. Over his shoulder they could make out a login time of 20 years.

One of the visitors coughed politely. “Mr. Rodney?” he asked. The fingers stopped, and the old man turned his head slightly. “Yes?” he asked, at length. The visitor cleared his throat. “, rooms have been deleted.” he mumbled. Rodney frowned. “You came all the way out here to tell me that?” he asked, puzzled. He turned back to his screen and discovered he had been idle for almost a week. He sighed, and shouted across the lawn to an elderly couple sat facing each other over their laptops.


The man turned. “What?” he shouted back. Rodney nodded slowly at the visitors. It took almost a minute. “Are you coding something?” he shouted. Tref looked guilty for a minute. Rodney sighed. “Pack it in, would you?” he asked. Tref muttered something and went back to his screen. Rodney grinned and glanced at the visitors. They smiled and thanked him. He waved them away and went back to his mysterious twelve windowed screen.

The visitors returned swiftly the way they had came. Already the sun was setting, and many of the residents had been taken indoors, although several had only just come out, and were sneaking around the long shadows, hissing at people. The man on the bed had been lured to shore with a piece of cheese, and several nurses were struggling to push the hovercraft and its grinning occupant towards the house.

The group of women under the tree had vanished, but the old man remained perched in the branches, warily eying the ground. A little man with streaks of ginger in his long grey hair tottered past, shouting something about a friend list of six hundred.

They reached the gate. Far off, the sound of bickering Welsh voices could be heard. An old man ran past, pursued by another with two blocks of polystyrene in his hands. A third man, wrapped in newspaper, stumbled after them. Gradually the lawn emptied, and only the occasional frustrated cry of “Laaaaaaaaaag!” broke the evenings silence.

The visitors stepped through the gate, and back into the real world. Behind them, the gate clanged shut, metal locks clicking into place. The faint humming of an electric fence could be heard. They got in their car slowly, and paused to glance back. Then the driver started the engine, and they screeched off at full speed, into the gathering night.