Exquire: the Blog

SWEIII: RoTS

2005-05-20T13:26:00.000+12:00

Three is really a magic number. Three legs make a tripod stand securely. There are three primary colours. Martin Luther King said "I have a dream" three times. The third in any set is vital; the master stroke of a combination.

I'll show you how this technique is used.
Star Wars is crap.
Star Wars is crap.
Star Wars is crap.

You'd expect 'Star Wars Episode Three: Revenge of the Sith' to be the leg that holds up those other two hapless excuses for cinema we saw in one and two. Too bad it's not.

Don't get me wrong - I'm a big Star Wars fan. I download fan films. I can name five planets, at least. I refer casually to "The holy trilogy'. But I won't blindly say this movie makes up for the last two, because it doesn't.

In a series synonymous with cinematic twists, the big one here is that there aren't any. It comes off as a bloated franchise desperately tying loose ends and bustling through the expected routine plot. Action is an excuse for a one-liner, acting is passionless and blue screen, production is of a level you wouldn't swallow from anything not called Star Wars.

Episode III is a modern tragedy with all the correct hallmarks. The movie had the dramatic potential of any playwright’s daydream, but Shakespeare’s tragedies didn’t have to sell merchandise. I couldn’t help but feel, under all the lame quips, flashy CGI and token politicking, the genius of the plot was weeping.

The trilogy ends up a lacklustre, entirely predictable meander towards the actually-interesting original three. Capitalise on ILM and see this movie as big and as loud as you can, or you're wasting your time. Actually no, see it anyway - I mean, how could you not? But find a sugar daddy to take you so you don't have to pay.

Four stars. And that's out of ten.

I'm as happy as Larry is.

2005-05-09T14:27:00.000+12:00

I'm perfectly happy.

This represents a few problems, like, that I don't really need anything. Of course, people are forever trying to give me more reasons to be happy, but I just don't need them thanks.

I saw an advertisement once that seemed to subtly hint that I could be happier if I purchased the company’s product. “Hah!” I thought. "You’re wrong!" And I stopped watching the advertisement immediately.

I was buying some potato salad at the supermarket the other day, and the n00b behind the bar asked if I wanted a plastic fork. I could see where he was coming from, but he'd made the tactless mistake of not recognising me. So I just looked at him, a smile creeping across my face, and said "Do you know who I am?"
He said "No?" And I just walked away. Yeah. I don't need his plastic fork to be happy.

***********************

Ok so here I am living a life of immense satisfaction, and a guy at work says "How are you?"

When people ask this question, it's clear they expect you to answer "good" and get on with it. Don't do that. I suggest you answer the question with 100% transparent honesty. Tell them exactly how wonderful you and the world around you are. I did.

"Sunshine and rainbows" I said, and was on my way again, laughing to myself about how incredibly happy I am.

Yesterday I thought things couldn't get better. Boy was I wrong. Today is easily twice the day yesterday was.

Today is perfect. I mean, so was yesterday, but you'd expect that in a perfect world.

The Wall of Bass Technique: A nonsubjective capitulation (that's a review)

2005-04-22T22:49:00.000+12:00

Timmy Schumacher and Baitercell present the Wall of Bass Technique on KOG recordings.
And I review it.

It's got a brick on the front. That's not because it's a play on the word "wall" in the title, but because it rhymes with "Click here, to buy."

Remember the "yo momma's fat" jokes when you were fourteen? Every damn one of them applies to this album. My CD collection instantly gained 200 pounds. This album deep fries its toothpaste. It has its own post code. It influences the tide. Jenny Craig campaigns against this album.

The good:
Some of the songs are pretty good.
Darth Vader won the Papacy.

The bad:
My friend Rob got kicked in the nads by some girl.

Anyway, the album has some real pearlers, but mostly they're ones industry-watchers will have already heard (What's down Low, Lay it Down, should ring bells). Except now they've been impeccably remastered for CD - and WOB's production values drop the bomb.

The weaker content is generally that tainted by talented vocalists from the NZ music scene, like Mareko, Four Corners, and Jason Gunn.

Everyone has a different favourite on this compendium (assuming there are only fourteen people in the world, and one of them likes the 30 second silent track). It's a sausagemeat smorgasbord crossing genres, socio-political limits, and taste. If you make it through the whole thing there's a rock remix of Lock n' Load, which hands-down qualifies as rock.

Start at track 2 and keep the remote handy. This is a volume control roller coaster.
***** out of six and a half.

Hate your parents? Live with me!

2005-04-21T15:53:00.000+12:00

Large, cheap room in sunny Freemans Bay available next week.

Room is big enough for your king size bed, spa pool and scale model of Tokyo/Godzilla costume. Large, ugly windows, exposed beams, next to kitchen and my room.

Student flat to die for - on the link bus route/ walking distance from AU, AUT and town. With a big LAN, 2mb Internet, and a water cooler, it's any geek's dream!!!!1

Suit tidy, practical-minded, creative young person with an iron stomach and a sharp wit.
$120/w including bills, unfurnished (can arrange furnishings for n00bs), more details to come.

Late review: Phantom of the Opera

2005-04-13T10:24:00.000+12:00

I wrote this back when it wasn’t late, but wasn’t feeling generous enough to post it anywhere but as comment 666 on IMDB. It’s hip to be irrelevant. Coming soon: My Jurassic Park review.

If you like soft-core porn, you'll love the Phantom.

I've never seen the stage show, but was already very familiar with the music. Or should I say, three or four tunes that fail to carry the whole movie.

The first time we hear the resplendent organ theme I thought "Wow that was early." Little did I know we were in for half an hour of each theme, slow and histrionic stretched like butter over too much bread.

It's a stretch to call this a movie, which would imply something moves. Rather, it's a lot of sitting around, repeating the same things until you're numb. The movie is clearly made so you can still follow it while you straighten your doilies, fetch a shandy in a crystal glass, and knit.

Most strikingly, the film is presented in a totally soap opera style, with all the hallmarks and clichés of cheesy false melodrama. No I mean ALL the hallmarks. Soft focus; eat your heart out - this is pure oil-on-the-lens fuzzy-town. Everything is candle-lit, low aperture capture, giving it that "glowy" look with immoderate opulence.

As if that wasn't enough, indoor scenes rain petals, and outdoor scenes have gently floating snowflakes. Focus softly, light it dreamy, give a soft vignette and wear an awful lot of lace and we're there. I would have fallen asleep but for one saving grace: TITTIES ON SCREEN.

Face it, there's heaps of them. The actors have been carefully dressed so you can recognise them by their cleavage, so you actually never have to look at their face. I can't think of a single scene that didn't have breasts in it - not even when it's snowing. I feel it degrades the women, you'll spend the whole film thinking "Man, I'd hit it." But don't worry. There aren't any subtleties you'll miss.

If it's called Rock it's supposed to.

2005-03-31T13:43:00.000+12:00

The Beatles shocked the world with their long hair and rocky music. Rock music continued to shock by being shocking. Now, rock music shocks by not being very shocking.

When I listen to rock, my expectation is that it will. I expect falsetto singing, ugly stinky men in black jeans, flaming skulls to rain from thunderclouds. I want a skin-tearing guitar solo to burst into town on a black steed and raise an army of skeletons to pillage the capital.

I want organs to be the nerdy kid that said "Fuck off and die!" to the teachers and then wagged the detention. I want the drummer to collapse mid-set. Then keep rocking out until the murky darkness eats him with a spoon.

I want to ride through Dargaville in a shit Holden with a fire-breathing driver at midnight, dropping a reeking pestilent acid on the tar seal in front of us, and burning it behind us with a thick grey toxic smoke. I expect my gums to be raw from the stress on my teeth I get from gnawing on the hangman's blood-stained hemp ropes.

But rock music sucks now. That which does have balls, certainly doesn’t have hair on them. Being twenty one and obviously responsible for this mess, I’m looking to my peers and asking “Where did we go wrong?”

I blame low-riding. Filthy kids and their half-down extra-large made-in-Korea jeans. You and your pathetic feet getting caught in your pathetic pants. Take your pathetic skateboard to the op-shop and get some suspenders.

You can't rock out in low jeans. They'll fall down and everyone will laugh at you. You look ridiculous, you twerp. Look at your stupid bum. Don't show off that your mother has no taste in underwear. Thanks for killing rock with your idiotic pants.

Twat.

Easter Special: Saying it with titties.

2005-03-23T22:30:00.000+12:00

It's been only several months since I started this blog. Looking back on it, those few months have been a time of growth for me, personally, professionally, socially. As I look back over my musings of this time, as published in the numerous postings here, I'm proud of the achievements I have... achieved and the... achievements I have achieved.

But while this is an excellent start, it is still the start. Most of my readers are my friends, colleagues, inmates, AA members and topless women at protests. I'm also read by myself, lazy and indifferent retail slaves, my mother, the American cabinet members that quit, market research professionals, Redmond, Beelzebub, Chris Costello, faggots, pirates, Dinesh, Clare Greenway, Phoebe, and a bunch of people that hate my guts and write comments.

I want more readers. Heaps more. I want people from overseas, people that really don't know me at all - friends you can afford to lose, randoms who stumble across this place while searching for whatever vile search terms bring you here.

Blog philosophy:

If you do read over all those past entries, you'll find that I have several long standing rules with this blog. The main one is thus: text only. At first I didn't even want to change colours and add emphasis, but I found it was the best way to group classes of text. One of the underlying ideas for this is that when I sell out, I can easily publish the whole blog as a book without having to do a scrap of bloody work. There are several phenomena blogs can have that books cannot, and so I've tried to keep the blog limited to text alone.

These factors could be seen as limits for a blog, a medium that is commonly considered to be "set free" by hypertext mark-up language. But I prefer to see them as something of an ironic challenge. Although I am quite capable of a bit of web-wizardry, I leave it out to spite the ever sparklier and more intricate Internet we're used to. By simplicity, I mock the complicated web of confusion users have to learn to navigate through. By driving the site by content alone, it becomes rich and engaging. It's not meant to be a quick stop-through on your way to enjoying yourself, this is it: the Internet ends here but at least you've got something to read now.

In a further ironic way, when you consider my content is aptly described as "bullshit", the interface is "no bullshit". With a no bullshit interface, I'm able to deliver the bullshit more pertinently to my readers. I'd rather have it that way than have to get through a lot of other bullshit before you get the bullshit you came for. I think I speak for many when I say that I'm fed up with the usefulness of the Internet being gradually eroded by its own bullshit advancements.

Easter is a special time and ...

... do you reckon everyone's stopped reading this tripe yet? I do. Now for the titties.

Update: It don't stop. Click here to send me your titties

And FINALLY:

Exquire: The recipe book

2005-03-21T09:24:00.000+12:00

Unhype smoothie
As published on the Monin website

OK, this is a special drink for a special time. It's 4:48am, and you're staggering around your kitchen still hearing the echoes of the club in your head. It's silent in your flat and you feel completely out of place. You've got work tomorrow at 8:30 and you're dreading it. Your current gustatory sensation is that combination of sweaty air and morning mouth. You need something that will calm your tense muscles, sober your eyelids and restore life to your limp, sore body.

What you need is this. (Recipe for two hungry zombies at ten to five, or three at quarter to three)

~~*Unhype Smoothie*~~
- A couple of ripe bananas
- A good 300ml of soy milk (Not cows milk!)
- A good splash (A serving spoon?) of lightly coloured Monin syrup - going for a fruity kind of fragrant honey taste with this one. Lychee's perfect, lavender or melon or peach are winning bets.

Put it all in your blender and wake up the whole neighbourhood with it (though it'll seem quiet to you). Your estranged flatmates will emerge mooky-eyed and ask what in the devil you're doing. Tell them you're making a smoothie, offer some (they won't, so it's safe), give them a cuddle (you'll be surprised how warm they are) and send them on their way.

Turn off the blender.

Pour the mixture into glasses, remembering that I never said it would look good. Give the blender a half-hearted rinse and put it with Wednesday night's dishes in a fine balance so the next person to go near them knocks it off and has to clean it.

Sit down (this'll feel really good) and toast to freedom, Auckland parks, and sick-days at work. When you drink up, you'll feel *yourself* again. In control, on top of the world, and full of fruit. Go to bed and sleep like a stone(r).

Got something to say? Say it with titties.

2005-03-09T09:36:00.000+13:00

Protestors in New Zealand are finding a new medium of effective communication: titties.

Indeed the trend is alarming. If you get your tits out, let's face it; there's cameras. The New Zealand media, bored shitless by a decent government and painfully stable local celebrities, embrace the opportunity to publish a few nudies and be all naughty like the protestors are.

Importantly, this means it works. No matter what you do at a rally, the people with titties are gunna be the focus in tomorrow's paper. You can say anything with titties.

Titties against petroleum
Titties against Destiny Church
Titties against Monarchy

If you've got titties, you've got a voice.

Hell, I'm not even gunna talk to anyone any more; I'm just gunna write stuff on my chest and wait 'till I get in the news. You can read what I've got to say there. Actually, screw this blog I'm publishing by titties now. Keep two eyes on the news.

Why aren't you all like this?

2005-03-07T22:25:00.000+13:00

Exquirë says:

I wrote.
http://exquire.blogspot.com/

Phoebe says:

yasssssssssssssssss

Phoebe says:

i hope its about me

Exquirë says:

Oh, it's not sorry.

Exquirë says:

But believe me, you don't wanna be in this entry.

Phoebe says:

ooooh

Exquirë says:

Ah but you can comment! Then you're a part of it.

Phoebe says:

i love commenting

Phoebe says:

you are sooo funny

Phoebe says:

in such a weird way

Exquirë says:

A mate said this was my best yet. Woo-hoo.

Exquirë says:

Those two terrible writers had it coming

Phoebe says:

dude i LOVE the dinesh story

Phoebe says:

like i LOVED it

Phoebe says:

with a passion

Exquirë says:

Oh that's cool. I fucked him six ways eh. What a jerk.

Phoebe says:

i loved it

Phoebe says:

it was fantastic

Exquirë says:

You're my number one fan.

Exquirë says:

Malu's, too

Phoebe says:

im both of ur guys fan

Exquirë says:

Yeah

Exquirë says:

It was my first day back at uni (part time) today.

Phoebe says:

oh no

Phoebe says:

how was it

Exquirë says:

I wore a brown suede Westminster bowler hat.

Phoebe says:

LMAO

Phoebe says:

ghahaha

Phoebe says:

ohhh malu must love u so much

Exquirë says:

One guy goes "Why did you wear that hat?"

And I said "I assume you wore that red shirt because it's a hot day, and it goes with your eyes. That's why I wore this hat."

Phoebe says:

ahahhahaha

Exquirë says:

It was so good.

Phoebe says:

youre great

Exquirë says:

And this other girl (as if there wasn't warning of this) goes - "But... but it's not normal."

Exquirë says:

So I said "You know, if I was you this morning, I would have said "Mum, it's my first day of uni and it's TOO HOT to take a jumper."

Phoebe says:

i dont get it

Phoebe says:

i dont like it when i dont get it!!!

Exquirë says:

OK, you know how mums go "take a jumper?" Well this girl had one. Today. It's scorching hot today.

Phoebe says:

oh lol

Phoebe says:

it was sooo hot today

Phoebe says:

why did they pick on u

Phoebe says:

why didnt they just shut up

Exquirë says:

What they didn't get immediately, was that I only wore that hat so they'd ask stupid questions.

Exquirë says:

If I hadn't worn that hat, meeting them would have been entirely boring. Before long, the three of us were getting along just swell.

Phoebe says:

LOL

Phoebe says:

i love the way u think

Phoebe says:

its so crazy and funny

Exquirë says:

If you like, I'll post this conversation as an entry.

Exquirë says:

Then you get to be in a blog entry

Phoebe says:

i'l be famous

Exquirë says:

Not really, I have about five readers. But I'll get heaps more soon with any luck.

Every day, idiots are published

2005-03-01T09:59:00.000+13:00

It's not every day you read something published that shouldn't have been. Who am I kidding? It is every day. Every day, the web fills up with more clueless writers getting paid by clueless bosses to add their late, worthless commentary on the digital revolution. I would suggest, if you know sweet fuck all about your subject, don't write about it.

I look out for intriguing articles with foresight and fresh information. My keywords for these articles are generally innovative and "hot" products like "Gmail", "Apple DRM", "Longhorn", "SP2", "Fuck off and die", and "Paris Hilton stolen sideswipe pics"

My search results range from fruitful to downright rotten. Every now and then, you get a real stinker. I'd like to focus on the stinkers today.

Here's a guy called Jeremy D. Zawodny, "contributing writer" for www.webpronews.com (Where you can expert to get web new written by pro's). You see, Jeremy has so much time that he took one sunny afternoon off from contributing writing, and read the Gmail terms of service.

Here's what he had to say -
http://www.webpronews.com/

For those of you without a functioning mouse, here's the crux -

This is a little odd. I was reading the Gmail Program Policies and noticed this in the large list of things that users may not do.

Interfere with other Gmail users' enjoyment of the Service.

If someone sends a message to my Gmail account to tell me I'm fat and it's pissed me off, does that constitute interfering with my enjoyment? Can I have their Gmail account terminated for doing so?

He's serious.

I sent Jeremy a little letter.

I read your article on Gmail’s clause to not interfere with other users’ enjoyment. For one, the word “enjoyment” is popularly defined as
3: (law) the exercise of the legal right to enjoy the benefits of owning property; "we were given the use of his boat"
WordNet ® 2.0, © 2003 Princeton University

A synonym of “enjoy” is “use”.

For two, if your legal knowledge is this limited, why are you reading lengthy program policies?
More importantly, why on earth are you writing about them?

I wrote about you in my blog.
http://exquire.blogspot.com/

Thanks,
Craig Neilson

PS. You’re fat. I hope that pisses you off.

Case closed.

Here's another stinker, written by the prolific Clare Greenway, the only person that publishes stories at www.boostmarketing.com - a site that gets a lot of Google News exposure. Too much.
After a bit of research, I also found this to be a repeat story by the same writer on the same site.

http://www.boostmarketing.com/story.php?id=687

The opening sentence here reads (Verbatim, always);

Okay, so we are guilty too of hyping Apple Computer products, but with the new iPod mini range and price cuts, what's not to love about Apple at the moment?

And the rest reads as you'd expect, with prices and everything. Sorry, but there's no in depth DRM discussion here, we're just reminding everyone that Apple have something called an iPod. In other breaking news, Princess Diana got her shit fucked in a car crash.

Boost allows comments. Fuckin' A. My comments on this story include "There's plenty not to love about Apple at the moment." and "ruining what it means to own music". Oh, and "Maria, I hope your iPod goes with your handbag".

Of course, like any enterprising $2 whore, I link my blog under every damned post. Comments are allowed that luxury.

To my readers, I beg you, when you find crappy online journalism, ruin it. Go to the comment button, to the email button, ridicule the writing for the trash that it is. If possible, do it in the domain they chose to put it - the public one. Practice on me.

When you try to fuck me, I will get on top.

2005-02-15T19:42:00.000+13:00

Some people are not very clever.

I'd like to introduce you to Dinesh, a lad I bought a phone off, on Trademe.

Trademe is a great place. Full of bargains, genuine sales, in general, I've had a wicked time there.

But not with Dinesh.

As reported last week in my blog, my phone died, and I needed a replacement asap. I found one on Trademe with a buy-now of $45. All citations are VERBATIM, nothing is even exaggerated.

Used Black color Nokia 6210 for sale.

Phone is in good working condition. Never had any problems. Just replaced the face plate once as there were too many minor scratches.

The screen might need to be replaced as there are some thin lines coming up when txting.

Package includes:

Nokia 6210 Phone with battery working on Vodafone network, Nokia 6210 Software CD, Phone charger.
Data transfer cable and data transfer software CD FREE for 'buy now' buyers.
Reserve price if not far away so bid..bid..bid..
Photo shown is very similar to the phone for sale. Simcard NOT supplied with the phone.

In the questions and answers, Dinesh extended on the issue with the screen:

"It's not visible lines. It's a couple of very thin lines that come between the text, just like strikethrough the text. It just comes and goes."

I bought the phone for the full $45 and had the money on its way that afternoon. Two days later, I unwrapped something that looked nothing like the picture, with a screen that made the phone unusable.

I also had an email:

"Hi mate! have you got the courier? Waiting for your feedback in trademe. So did u get it last nite or this morning?

cheers"

"Hi Dinesh

It arrived this morning. I'm just looking into it and will email you about it soon."

Ten minutes later I sent

"OK, I'll soon post this feedback, with a "neutral" summary. Let me know if I've misread or misinterpreted the auction somehow, and if there's some easy way to fix the screen that I should know.

'I needed an urgent trade, and Dinesh did all he could to help out. He was very quick in answering questions and kept his promise to send the phone as soon as he received payment.

The phone, however, was not as described or pictured in the auction description. It was described as "good working condition" however it's practically unusable for most features other than normal calls. The defect in the screen was mentioned, but made to sound minor. It really cripples the phone's normal use.

In all, the description and picture was misleading, and the buy now price unfair. I would hesitate to trade with Dinesh again.' "

As expected, Dinesh wrote back, but for the most part kept his cool...

"Hi mate,

I read your mail. I thought you are buying the phone because you knew what you are bidding for. That was the reason that the phone was so low priced with all the extra gear I supplied with it. I bought the phone a year ago and it sounded exactly the same as I have listed it in my auction. The connection kit costed me around $100 a year ago and I have given it to you for a cheap price.

Like I listed in my auction, the screen has to be replaced. But other wise the phone can be used for texting, Infrared works perfect, data download/upload is great.

Tell me of an auction in trademe where u can buy a mobile phone with all these features for $45???????? You need to understand why this phone was available for such a low price. The actual price of the phone I sold it to you for is $15 and the conection kit is $30.

O.K. here's the breakdown of the phone costs- Nokia 6210- $15 PC Connection Kit- $30
Courier-$5
Total- $50

Am sure that $15 for the phone is a great deal. The picture and price was NOT misleading. It's just the right price you get for the phone.

That is what you get for $15. You need to understand this.

Bye and please change you feeedback style. And I expect a positive feedback too. If it is a neutral then I will then need to change yours too.

Cheers."

You read it right - he's threatening to change his feedback on me because I wasn't happy with the deal. At this stage he had already placed positive feedback because I sent the money immediately and did everything a buyer's meant to.

Feedback on Trademe is important. It makes up a good part of your online trustworthiness.

I called his bluff, though, because complete honesty online is ALWAYS the best policy.

"Hi again, Dinesh

I don't feel positive about the auction at all, so I won't post "positive" feedback. As a buyer, I did everything you asked, so I do not deserve anything other than positive feedback. I think your threat to change mine is unwarranted.

I'm aware that the package would have been "a great price" if it was as you described/ pictured. However, even at the lowest price I am still entitled to a fair trade. Regardless of how low the price was, the phone does not match the description of:

"Phone is in good working condition. Never had any problems."

You also answered questions in a way that drastically understate the problem.

I'd be willing to send the package back to you for a refund. I will pay for shipping. I'll gladly post positively for smooth handling of an auction that didn't go through, if you're willing to do this.

Craig."

"Okay mate! You can post neutral. I agree that you did everything well,but it was all ONLY UNTIL you received the goods. I am sure you will be a happy nokia customer when u get the screen replaced. It's only the screen that's playing up. This is my 'neutral' feedback to you: "Trader purchased the phone accepting to the conditions in the auction about the faulty screen and a very low price for a working order phone. But then said he needs a better screen which makes the trade confusing. Very confusing trader"

I'm sorry but I think this is what I need to post. There are a lot of places where you can get the phone serviced in Auckland. It's not a threat but a request to review your feedback.

Cheers

Dinesh"

Go back and read my emails to him if you like. I'm sure you'll agree I was absolutely confusing every step of the way.

Whatever, moron.

Trademe has a 500 character word limit, so I had to snip some detail from my feedback. Immediately after I posted it, he came back screamin'.

"Can you please explain this in your feedback:

'The phone, however, was not as described or pictured in the auction description.'

WHAT WAS NOT DESCRIBED IN THE FEEDBACK THAT WAS NOT IN THE DESCRIPTION???

It's ok about the neutral feedback but you need to edit this statement.

I explained all about the phone in the auction description. The cling sound is a screw behind the screen that needs to be tightened when u replace the screen. I bought another nokia so was not bothered to go and get it fixed as I did not have the time.

Can you change that phrase please?"

I think my reply here was cracker. It's exactly what he had coming, and the slightly more aggressive tone was the match to Dinesh's idiocy powder keg.

"Hi again

That's the shortened version of the feedback I originally sent you - not everything would fit. I think that shortened version is still pretty accurate - it's from this:

'The phone, however, was not as described or pictured in the auction description. It was described as "good working condition" however it's practically unusable for most features other than normal calls. The defect in the screen was mentioned, but made to sound minor. It really cripples the phone's normal use.'

As I said before, some things were not entirely accurate, and others were misleading.

If I were listing this phone (I intend to soon), my description would read something like this:

"The broken screen on this phone makes it pretty much unusable for anything other than normal calls. It is in bad condition, and has something rattling inside. All in all, a classic phone with some great connectivity software for your PC. With some minor repair, this package will be a great deal."

I think that's a fair description. Yours wasn't."

"Yeah rite! Thanx for all the confusions and arguments. Finally I realised that you had wasted my time and yours. Please don't waste others time in Trademe as well."

I hope you're still reading, because here's where Dinesh does something unbelievably stupid. Have you ever seen someone completely set themselves up for a fall? Ask where their glasses are while they're wearing them? Claim they don't have a black sweater while they're wearing one?

This scene is straight out of one of those pantomimes where the audience yells "IT'S RIGHT BEHIND YOU!" and the villain goes "What?"

Dinesh continues:

"I will do a $100 bank transfer to your bank account(Double your amount) if you are able to find the same 6210 with the connection kit for $45 in trademe. I bet no one will give you a $100 Nokia connection kit for 30 bucks. You need to know what you get for the money you pay."

I trust you're thinking what I'm thinking.

Being a-few-days-later, and 2005, I've hooked myself up with a half decent phone to get me by. One that has a working screen. I no longer require Dinesh's phone. In fact I'm willing to sell it.

Hell, I even told him I was going to sell the phone, above.

Hardly able to contain my excitement at humiliating Dinesh and scoring a hundy in the process, I wrote back.

"You're on! I'll keep an eye out for 6210 listings that come up with a connection kit. $100 indeed!"

And the IDIOT - this is where I lost my last scraps of respect - had the audacity to say

"Sure mate! Go for it! You have time until 31st december 2005.
ENJOY!!!"

OK, this made me reconsider the plan to get a mate to list the phone.

Why? Because by December 31 2005 (bear in mind it's February, yo), there is absolutely certain to be someone else selling one of these things on Trademe. Trademe even has email alerts, so I wouldn't actually have to do any work to prove him wrong.

I quickly realised that if he didn't give me a fair trade, he hardly deserves a fair bet.

When you try to fuck me, Dinesh, I WILL get on top.

And fuck you.

So a mate of mine listed the phone and connection kit, with a reserve and buy now of $45. Here's the description:

"Phone works, but screen needs replacing. Good for making and recieving calls, but difficult for texting and other functions that rely on the screen. Apparantly this is common on 6210's and is fixed easily and cheaply.

Phone will come with PC connection kit - software and data cable.

Also comes with

-Charger
-Original box
-Owners guide

Bidders be aware this phone will need some repair for normal use."

Before long, people were placing questions and low bids. It looked just like a real auction, because, it was. If someone buys the phone, they can have it.

With shaking fingers I calmly wrote to our friend:

"Hi Dinesh

I found this auction.

http://www.trademe.co.nz/ link

My bank account for transfer is

(details)
Craig Neilson

Please let me know when the payment has been made.

Craig."

His response was confusing to say the least, and somewhat anti-climatical (don't worry, there's a climax soon). He seemed bemused by it, feeling a little ridiculous, and clearly in denial.

It's by far his worst written dribble yet, remember, verbatim:

"So atleast by this way I hope u understood that my auction was 100% genuine and true and it was absolutely prefect deal. I wanted you to find it for yourself what I exactly mean and what I trade here in trademe.

So you want me to believe every tom, dick and harry who post fukn fake auctions? Try to either believe what you see or just don't bid and waste people's time.

Ofcourse money speaks! Need to thank scott though! Lol"

...

Did you follow any of that? I sure didn't. I think what he's trying to say is -My auction was real (no shit, I have your phone) -That auction's a fake (it isn't) -I really have no idea what he means by this last part.

Unsure, I scribbled back a quick note-

"Er, I didn't follow your email. Does it mean you've transferred the hundred bucks?"

Not my best writing. I tried him again the next morning:

"Hi Dinesh

I checked my bank account and it doesn't appear your money's gone through yet. When did you make the transfer?

Craig."

I have to hand it to this guy, with his ship sinking into a world of shit, he still claims that I haven't kicked his ass. Usually I'd honour that, but this guy just sucks at it.

"Re read the email I sent you." (He means the one noone could make any sense of) "How can someone send money looking at some fake auctions. I wanted you to realize about the genuinity of my auction."

He quotes himself. I think we're meant to read this inditing again and realise how clear it is.

"'So you want me to believe every tom, dick and harry who post fukn fake auctions? Try to either believe what you see or just don't bid and waste people's time.'"

Follow that this time? Neither. OK here's that climax I promised:

"AND PLEASE DON'T EMAIL ME ANYMORE. HAD MOST OF MY TIME WASTED MAILING YOU. Don't be a fool. Have some common sense and think before you do anything."

Did you see that?

I think we'll get that last big again in slow motion. Dinesh, the guy that bet me $100 he wasn't a twat, said:

"Don't be a fool. Have some common sense and think before you do anything."

I'll give you a moment to laugh this off.

The temptation to just send that line straight back to him was stellar. Thing is, I'm fucking broke and could with a hundred dollars

- so I upped the hustle one last time.

"It doesn't look like a fake auction to me.

The guy's even listed his cellphone number in an answer to a question.

You should call it - it's no fake.

In a written agreement, you promised me $100 to find an auction like that. I did. Why don't you stand by it?"

I think I stumped him with this. There really isn't anything to write back. I'd defeated him, so like a dead cow, I ran up and flogged him for all I'm worth.

"Hi again

I haven't heard back on this all afternoon. Can you please let me know
when you have made the transfer.

Craig."

At last I had stirred a response. Read this slowly, it's your last chance.

"This is the last e-mail you are reading from me.

I can understand that you are facing difficulties in understanding the language. Maybe you need to go to some language school. There are heaps in Auckland.

You will NOT get any money. The reason I told you to find auctions selling Nokia 6210 phones was I wanted you to realize that my price was equally as good as the auction that you found. I wanted you to find it for yourself. Atleast now you should have understood what am trying to say or ask someone who knows english to explain this to you.

Don't email me anymore.

I have blocked you off my mailing list.
bye"

This is one of those astounding messages where you just slowly shake your head with your mouth open. This message adds weight to my theory that Dinesh is a racist, frustrated school boy with grey short-shorts and bad teeth. Dinesh, you munter. You just don't say this kind of shit.

Sure enough, it was indeed the last I heard of Dinesh, but not the last I wrote to him.

"Hi Dinesh

It’s me, Craig. I suggest you read this, I’ll be quick.

I am planning to post on the Internet a complete log of all our emails. Included will be my commentary along the way, auction descriptions, etc.

I will not change any of the words either of us wrote. Everything will appear verbatim.

I plan to link to this log from your feedback page, as well as mine.

If you’d like to take back anything you said, or change your mind and pay up like you said you would, I’ll reconsider publishing our conversations.

This is my work address, if you reply to it I won’t get your response until Tuesday (I’ve got Monday off). I’ll probably post this on Sunday. To respond, unblock (address) and send your email there.

Craig Neilson"

As you can probably guess, because he was too busy spending the $45 I sent him, Dinesh was too busy to reply. His loss, this story is now linked from his feedback page so everyone on Trademe can laugh at him.

I don't like ridiculing people publicly, but Dinesh really brought this upon himself. In a way I wish he wasn't so stupid, but then, it wouldn't have been such a good story.

UPDATE: I win

Hi craig,
Had blocked all ur email addresses so did not get any of ur mails if
you had mailed me. Noticed there was a negative feedback placed which
you did not tell me earlier.

Anyway if u still interested courier me the phone package and I will
refund your money to your account straight away. That is the least I
can do at this stage.

Let me know. It's upto you.bye

Hi Dinesh

Thanks for the offer. Unfortunately, I don't trust you at all.

Craig.

To answer your question, G clamps.

2005-02-08T20:35:00.000+13:00

I went to the hardware store, needing something to staple a metal mounting-plate for a projector, onto an iron girder that holds the roof up at my place.

After umming an aahing like your average retail slave, the guy showed me some G clamps.

Holy hell, you can do anything with G clamps.

Within days I wasn't sure how I ever lived without G. I can pince anything together like big removable steel glue. I can harness the gripping powers of friction, and attach shit to things.

I attached myself to the ceiling.

I stuck those god damn curtains together so they wouldn't come open.

I repaired my exhaust while still travelling on the motorway.

Hell, I even used it to put up the now famous pirate flag.

From precision engineering, to the most stubborn nut cracking, G clamps do it all. I suggest you go and get some.

G clamps are in no way affiliated with Google.

MSN Messenger is down: nobody is surprised.

2005-02-08T14:34:00.000+13:00

Having run out of criminals, it looks like that ol' God chap is using EMP to shut me up. Yesterday, my cellphone quit. Today, the good folks at MSN have decided that nothing's wrong with Messenger not working for a few hours.

No it's not just you: MSN messenger is OFF.

Messenger itself helps out with a super-friendly error message:
"We are unable to sign you in to .NET Messenger Service, possibly because of a problem with the service or with your Internet connection. Please make sure that you are connected to the Internet. 0x81000301"

No shit, Sherlock. This error message is tantamount to "Something is wrong, so, something is wrong. Make sure you have hands. And because the following is not useful, 0x81000301."

MSN's Messenger status page helps us out with an ASP error and advice on how to fix the page we're trying to view - assuming we're Microsoft.

Messenger is important. Microsoft knows it, so it (by default) pumps out ads, starts with Windows, and signs in at every opportunity. It also gleefully takes dozens of megs of RAM - which is understandable given it's an application that sends lines of unencrypted text to a limited list of buddies.

Sometimes I’m just too astounded to coherently criticise bad work.

I say again: Google, hurry the hell up.

I forgot my faggot.

2005-01-15T11:30:00.000+13:00

So I was shopping the other day, but something was wrong.

For a change it wasn't the 13 year old trendwhores littered around the mall selling pussy by txt. It wasn't the sterile lighting, or the tumultuous din of hundreds of panicking soccer mums. It distinctly felt like I'd forgotten something.

Patting my pockets I found my cellphone, keys, wallet, change, that's fine. But when I spotted a snappy young gentleman chance a quick coup d'oeil at my bottom, it hit home what was missing.

I'd forgotten to bring a faggot.

This, to me, spells certain doom. I only shop with faggots. I can dress myself only marginally better than your mother dresses you - so I make it a policy to take a faggot by the hand before I hit the High street.

I sat down and carefully explained to my girlfriend that looking for a man-bag without a witgiven fudge packer's advice was sure to end in tears. I scanned the food court for a saviour but to no avail. Then I took a deep breath and did something risky.

I went on alone.

You know that scene where Luke Skywalker turns off the guidance system? It was like that. I was gunna fly my ass into a clothes store and dress it. Watch out, death star, I'm gunna fuck you up.

After hours of boisterous mirror-looking, I ambled out of the mall and nervously drove home. What were the boys going to say? Would they like my yellow shirt with flowers on it? Did my butt look big in those jeans?

At first opportunity I booked in with someone who called himself - I kid you not - "The Milan fathion polithe". I slumped as I walked toward him, aware of my nudity covered by 100% cotton weave. The look on his face was one of shock; of horror, of confused anguish. He said "Did you do this?"
I gave a chagrined nod.
"I'd hit it."

Joy came over me (sic). I'd pulled it off. I went shopping without a homo, and yet one would still do me. I've levelled-up; I've evolved; my faggot trainer wheels are off!

Incidentally, the girl at the "fashion store" was none other than Lisa Archbold, the NZ judo champ who's going to go to the Olympics and beat everybody up. She looked like a pixie without wings, and had the same hairdo my brother had when he was 8; but she could have kicked my tight ass at the drop of a hat. Those that I left confused after my last retail piece, being able to kill anyone you feel like is a good way to achieve the confidence level required to sell me something.

Papyrus is the new Comic Sans

2005-01-07T11:13:00.000+13:00

Comic Sans is the poster-child for bad design.

Giant printed flags, horrid websites, tactless home made garbage. It's the McDonalds of fonts, impossible to escape, always there to remind you that one person can't change the world.

Nothing says "I don't know what I'm doing" better than Comic Sans. You see it everywhere. From business cards to neon signs, this cancer crawls over and infects anything where you can find a computer, and a bad designer.

It's bad taste. Comic Sans was designed by Vincent Connare for speech bubbles in a Microsoft program that starred a purple guy with a big nose.

The purple guy should have taken the font to his grave.

He didn't, and Microsoft made Comic Sans a web font. This means pretty much every computer in the known world is capable of wrecking wrong-typeface mayhem. Now all we need is stupid users.

In recent times we've seen a new shadow grow over the sanity of typographers worldwide. The global phenomenon: Papyrus.

Chris Costello up and designed Papyrus fresh out of College. I'll be honest; it's a great display font. I don't want to victimise Chris - he's a good guy - but Papyrus is a threat.

Display font means that you convey one meaning with it, and call it a day. I might use Papyrus to say "Egypt", and then write my essay in Times. But what's the bet we're gunna see a deluge of people using Papyrus for everything? A pretty good one.

I interviewed Costello with a few burning questions, like who's to blame:

> What applications have included
> Papyrus by default, and what estimates can we make to the number of
> computers with the font installed?

"I know that Papyrus is included with Mac OSX and I think it is also included with some Windows packages but I am not sure. I really have no idea of the number of computers with the font installed."

Oh god.

Papyrus comes with MacOSX and Windows XP. Every idiot has that font - and the power to use it exclusively.

"I think the worst uses that I have seen are in the many badly designed websites that I see with Papyrus used as the default body text. I originally designed Papyrus as a display font and it only had upper case characters. I added a lower case set because I did not think any typeface distributor would be interested in it. I had no idea that it would become so popular as body text."

Or, I presume, that my local supermarket would write their Xmas hours in it. Or that a chain restaurant brand would lack foresight and use it for their signs. Food labels, CD covers, movie titles and spotty faced goths writing suckful poetry. Prepare to find Papyrus every place you shouldn't.

Here's the rub: If you were a professional artist, and you poured hours of your youth into an artistic tool that inevitably ended up on hundreds of millions of computers, you'd expect to be rolling the dough, right? You'd expect to have retired at 24 with three dozen wives and a private small nation. If a narcissistic, snot nosed trendwhore of a blogger wrote you a bunch of questions, would you feel compelled to answer them? Hell no!

Rather, Chris sees as little as seventy bucks a quarter. "I have been receiving quarterly royalties since then that can be anywhere from $70-1000 U.S. dollars... I only get about 4% of the sales of the font."

OMFG DUDE WTF. When I read that, everything inside me said "It's not worth it." Papyrus makes for a sizable part of the way we type, and some bloke's getting less than four grand a year in royalties? You got it.

And to top it off, people everywhere are pissing all over Papyrus.

"My biggest fear is that it will become overused or pigeonholed and then ultimately shunned by designers as a dated or 'New Age' font."

Damn straight, Chris.

> Thanks, I hope we can discuss these things. It should be an insightful
> blog entry!

"Anytime, I hope this helps"

I pray it does, too.

Pretend I'm normal.

2004-12-25T17:52:00.000+13:00

For a few days, I'm going to live in a real house. The house has a TV. I swear I'm going to watch it

OK, I'm open to suggestions for this project. I know it's going to be challenging, so I've come up with a few activities I can do to simulate a normal existance:

I'll watch TV.
I'll drive to work.
Dialup.
I'll go to a shopping mall - at least once.
I'm not going to make ANYTHING.

Help me out here - I have little concept of what you all do in your little houses. What TV shows should I watch and at what time? When is the densest traffic (so I can add to it)? What's a mundane housekeeping chore that I can put off doing while watching more TV?

I accept I am out of touch.

God tries to shut down my blog, fails.

2004-12-14T11:20:00.000+13:00

Don't get me wrong, god's a powerful bloke. But there's some things he can't do, like shut down my blog.

On Friday night someone nicked my laptop. Those that know me, know me with my laptop fastened to my back. Not because I'm some horny geek boy that doesn't go anywhere without a computer, but because I'm so cool that it's quite appropriate for me to have high tech devices on my person at all times.

To you that picked up my laptop, I hope you die of natural causes before you can sell a fully encrypted, password protected computer without a shred of resources. And that's quite likely, idiot.

I take this as a clear sign that god hates me. He also txted me last week and said "stp ritng tht blog FFS". How rude, I'd just sent him a card with "Happy Xmas" and pictures of santa and presents on it. Bitter asshole.

And to my expansive readership, if someone tries to sell you a Toshiba 1400 with my name irremovably on the Windows welcome screen, kindly brain damage their future children and run away calling "SILVERMOON LIVES!"

That oughta confuse ‘em.

M'S'N' up the Internet

2004-12-06T10:50:00.000+13:00

If there's a single company that doesn't get it, it's Microsoft.

However, they're another one of the corporations that bow down and kiss my feet, so eventually they brown-nosed me into reviewing the latest tripe to spill from the offices of MSN.

Messenger 7 beta: Doing all the things you didn't want and more.

I remember a day when smilies were used to communicate how you felt. No honestly, there was a day like that once.

Now, in MSN 7, there are three smilies in the formatting window. One for smilies, one for "winks" and one for no reason other than annoying the person you're talking to.

That's not a lie - there's a button that vibrates their chat window and makes a noise. Virus writers, pay attention to Microsoft's understanding of how to infuriate people.

Er, no, that is all that feature does. It's called a nudge. With my sound system, it's like strangling me to get my attention.

"Winks" are a new, more annoying and bandwidth heavy piece of arse that don't aid communication. They're little flash animations that play in your friend's chat window. I know.

I am investigating the possibilities of putting multiple flash animations in your display name. I’m so cool, my display name needs animation.

As if Messenger needed to take more RAM, it does. And you got it, winks will toast your CPU too. Madness for a product claiming to be more friendly for tablet users - this will only drain battery faster. You guessed it, can't turn it off.

In there for tablet PCs is that you can handwrite messages to people. Haven't you been sitting there, talking on MSN, and wished you could draw stuff with your mouse and send it to one user at a time? I found that drawing penises and sending them to impressionables was all this tool was good for. Before long there'll be a deluge of imbeciles drawing out "wots up how r u" and vibrating your windows, because that's the way to make friends. Mark my words.

Right from when you start MSN 7 you know it’s gunna be bad. More space in the parent window is taken by the ad', the top-bar that indicates your status, and the side tabs. In other words, the most useless bits of messenger are now bigger. Now that's efficient screen real estate (Actually it isn't, this is a sarcastic remark).

WAIT YOU CAN CUSTOMISE YOUR SIDE TABS! Oh, by selecting what order they appear in. I want this ad’ above this ad’, and MSN Personals (by Match.com) at the top, because I’m not even single.

You know how you can click on the bottom of MSN chat windows to select them again, and how you always do? (It's the best place to click). Now you can't. There's a link there that reads "customize MSN Messenger". When I set up Windows I told it I was from New Zealand. I told it I spoke New Zealand English. I have told Microsoft countless times that I speak the English that the English made. One more piece of American spelling and I'm gunna flip. It’s “Customise”.

That link opens an Explorer window (WTF? Firefox is my default browser) and takes you to somewhere you can download winks, smilies, and tasteless backgrounds. I clicked on it to customize MSN by taking away the shit. No-can-do.

Brooke Richardson, lead manager of MSN communication services said when releasing their blogging tool the other day, "We wanted to introduce it to a more mainstream audience and show them it can be about more than just blogging."

This thinking is flawed in a dangerous way. To me it reads "bloating out the way people keep in touch is better than just keeping in touch". MSN 7 embodies this, on its general release (and no doubt forced upgrade) the Internet, and talking to people, will be worse.

Google, hurry the hell up.

My taste buds are a whore.

2004-12-02T15:18:00.000+13:00

Every now and then I do these taste testing things, because I'm the kind of bastard that likes to be one-up on the market for cereal bars or something.

They call me up, and have their standard questions. They say "Do you or anyone you know work in the following areas, marketing, research, advertising, or pharmaceuticals?"

I have a standard answer to this, because I happen to work at the biggest direct marketing firm in the country - but these bozos don't know that.

"I work at AIM Proximity, does that count?"
"Um? I don't know. Usually people just say no."
"Well let's move on then."

I had a taste test today, where I started by waiting and reading the Pavement magazine from the year 2000 they provided as entertainment. Before long I was escorted by someone wearing pointed shoes to a seat and a breakfast bar.

I started the analysis of my reaction, and commented on the colour of the pallid milk and tumescent cereal. Before long, as you're no doubt guessing, I lost it.

"WTF are you feeding me? What is this pussy bar? It should be a MANLY bar. ARRRRRR. Like a pirate breakfast." I scrawled under one comment heading.

"This bar has no leadership" I wrote for another. "It should be dashing, bold, daring, like Captain Kirk." I've never even seen Star Trek.

"This bar has no balls. I'd like to see it try and commandeer a ship, huh?"

Ever so politely, the pointy shoed women would come to me, smile gently, remove my paper and half eaten breakfast while I gazed out the window and sipped water from a disposable plastic cup.

"When I'm defending the world from alien scum, I need a proper breakfast bar, ie, not this pathetic wish-I-was-apricot shit."

"Listen, if you want me to buy this, it has to be solid. A breakfast bar you claim to be 'big' shouldn't remind me of grandma."

Just when I was starting to enjoy it, the session ended and in place of a sissy breakfast bar they gave me an envelope and a double generous helping of polite smile. "Thanks for coming, Mister Neilson." I got out and opened the envelope, welcoming twenty five dollars to my wallet. What's this? Something else in here, too.

It seems what goes around comes around in the karma laden industry of market research.

"Thanks for contributing"
In Comic Sans.

Keep your enemies close, and, er, something.

2004-12-02T13:42:00.000+13:00

I predict that as the next Bushism.

There are fifteen members of the American cabinet, and seven of them have fucked off to better jobs.

Tom Ridge
Homeland Security, fukt.

Ann M. Veneman
Agriculture, sorry cowboy.

Don Evans
Commerce, I would have left too.

John Ashcroft
Justice - did this guy ever do his job?

Rod Paige
Education, gone.

Colin Powell
Secretary of State

Spencer Abraham
Energy. Yes, including oil.

All quit their jobs.

Why? Clearly, everyone hates Bush. I think that's a fair conclusion to draw. Maybe these guys realised that Washington DC, where they have to live and work, hate them most of all. Nine out of ten people that live there didn't vote for them.

Imagine if everyone hated you. Yeah? That's what it's like to work for Bush. Half the people from your work left, and it's not to do with the working conditions. And your boss keeps making a fool of himself by talking rubbish on TV. Sounds bloody awful to me.

Bush's inauguration is on January 20. That's the thing where last time his limo was pelted with eggs and rocked by thousands of angry protestors. One of the bands playing at the inauguration ball is Asleep at the Wheel. Jan 20 seems like ages away, but on the scheme of things it's very close.
We've got four more years of this.

Don't call me Craigy.

2004-12-01T11:41:00.000+13:00

Only one person in the world is allowed to call me that: My mum. You are not my mum.

Don't make me think about this - there is no way you can be my mother. Look, I know you'd like to be my mother, but the fact is that you're not.

Even my mum is restricted on her Craigy usage. Namely, she's not allowed to call me that when anyone else will hear it. She's not allowed to refer to me as Craigy when she's talking to anyone else; basically, she's not actually allowed to call me Craigy either.

Right, that's it. Noone is allowed to call me Craigy anymore. Noone.

I am sick but it's worth it.

2004-11-29T15:01:00.000+13:00

So I rushed out at seven thirty the other night because I realised I didn't have Half Life 2.

After speeding home at almost the speed limit (I'm that kind of bad boy), I sat and waited while installing. Five CDs. And then decryption over the Internet. Installation takes two hours. WTF.

But let me say this now --
Nothing about this game will disappoint. Hot damn it's hot. It's like they got a piece of the sun, encrypted it and put it on 5 CDs. I had to open the window, it’s that hot.

So I enter the game and I'm running about looking for my buddies and their government resistance movement. Compared to anything, it looks and feels real. I’ve picked up a habit of throwing TVs out the window, and now when I see them that’s all I want to do. Anyway I'm going through an abandoned train station about half an hour in when my worst fears are realised.

My brain is convinced it's moving. My ears know I'm not moving. Conflict. Nausea. Spew.

I hit Esc and ran for the dunny. When I saw it, I realised that we were close. Like old pals. I gave it a hug, and out-of-date falafel, potato, peas and spicy cheese sauce went everywhere. And to get there, they went through everywhere.

My sinuses are hooked up funny, so when I puke, it all comes through my nose. To this day I have chunder stuck in the thin part of my nostrils, so I'm walking around with my mouth gaping open, looking retarded like a blog reader.

The good news? The pressure in there is fukt, so my hearing and balance are out the door for the moment. And you're right, that means one thing:

I can play Half Life 2 without getting motion sick.

Want me to buy something? How about selling it?

2004-11-23T11:39:00.000+13:00

Listen punk, there are certain ways of getting me to buy the ridiculous, overpriced ca-ca you call products in your store.

If you're not playing some sort of game with me, you're gunna lose my one. For your benefit, I'll offer some tips now.

Here's what should happen when I walk in:

Keep an eye on me. I'm cute so this shouldn't be hard. As soon as I look a little confused, or lost, or like I have a question, you'll be there. Avoid such clichés as
"Can I help you?"
Because you're tired of saying that and I can tell. Try something along the lines of
"You look confused, and they pay me $10 an hour to talk to people like you.
Man that would be cool. I'd immediately want to buy something off you and validate your existence.

I know it's hard to break the ice, and that you're intimidated by my virile stature. But don't expect me to come crawling to the counter where you're oh-so-busy playing Minesweeper to get some service. I'd rather crawl backwards out of your shop. If it takes you longer than ten minutes I WILL BREAK SOMETHING TO GET YOUR ATTENTION.

Part two: Take hints.

I understand I am an unconventional customer. But I will drop hints. And by drop hints, I mean I will come right out and tell you I am a war president if I have to.

"No no no, you see, I'm both CHEAP, AND POOR. And I work full time as a champaign taster, so demand the best. Sell me a duvet." (Let's go artificial)

"I'm sorry, you're going to have to be a better salesperson for me to buy this five hundred dollar shower head." (Aim lower, talk more)

"Honestly, how can this pot be $50 more expensive than this one?" (Help me justify buying this or I won't)

Part three: This is your job.

I am the most interesting thing that will happen to you all day. You and my wallet have teamed up to be my therapists for a quarter hour. Laugh at my corny jokes. Openly tell me when things are good, or when they're not. If you can berate your own stuff with things like "I wouldn't dream of paying twenny bucks for this shit" I'll believe whatever you tell me.

Wait I'm onto something here - actually tell me stuff. You're an expert for the day. Pull trivia and blatant lies about your ware straight out of your ass and feed it to me on a spoon. I won't care how bad it is, 'long as you entertain me.

If there's one think I know it's that I could get everything cheaper elsewhere. Let this thought sink in. What did I come to you for? Now get to work!
If you don't want to work there
Don't work there.

Part four: OMG are you THE Craig Neilson!?

Complete me. I walked into your store because something is missing in my life. Maybe it's a cheese grater. Maybe there's a guy I saw with a prettier girlfriend than mine, so I've decided I need his watch. Whatever it is, you have an opinion on the subject too - tell me it and I'll decide whether you're entitled to that opinion or not.

Part five:

There is no part five. Are we still here!? You don't deserve me for this long! What's this, still in my wallet? MONEY! You lose.

I am Exquire.

2004-11-22T19:03:00.000+13:00

Someone else has the sign in name of Exquire.

No.

This is my name. My own. I came up with this as part of a team of five people, it took all afternoon. We carefully carved the name out of ancient Latin words that meant cool things like "laser guns" and "spys that get heaps of nookie" and "Rose petals on a winters morning".

But alas, when I signed up for Blogger today, it told me - get this:

"Sorry, this username is not available"

OMG.
Let me get this straight: Blogger is owned by Google. I am one of a handful of Google's bestest buddies that get to test Gmail. How can the audacity to tell me

"Sorry, this username is not available."

Those words are ringing in my head.

But I have a thought, now, also in my head.

Maybe Exquire already is me. It couldn't really be anyone else anyway. It's gotta be me. I must have already registered, back when I had long hair.

And you know what? I was right.

WHAT A RELIEF.

I am the only person cool enough to make a blog called Exquire.

Welcome, one and all.