links for 2005-05-31
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Quick and simple application to easily convert any video format to AVI files with the required settings to be played on iRiver H300 series players.
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MacOsX / Windows 2000/XP application for iRiver H100 or H300 series
…when you get all excited if Tesco replaces the contents of the bag of fun-size (translation from marketeese: 'small') apples you go through every week (from striped yellow-reddish South African Galas to shiny deep red USA Empire).
Thank goodness for the upcoming bank holiday. Very tempted to ditch my half-hearted DIY plans, get a fifty quid platinum weekend pass for the White Party Weekend instead and party-partee-partay.
Unless I succeed in stocking up with the rare Tesco Healthy Eating Red Berries Fat Free Fromage Frais (quite a mouthful that one, in more than one way).
Leaving witty comments to he who does it better, these is my bare personal votes on last night's Eurovision Song Contest qualifier contestants.
Vocal performance, stage presence and costumes, just like I used to do as a young Eurovision fan twenty years ago. With the added help of a spreadsheet.
Ah, technology.
| Country | Voice | Moves | Style | Total |
|---|---|---|---|---|
| Country | Voice | Moves | Style | Total |
| Austria | 9 | 7 | 6 | 22 |
| Lithuania | 6 | 5 | 5 | 16 |
| Portugal | 4 | 6 | 5 | 15 |
| Moldova | 8 | 8 | 6 | 22 |
| Latvia | 5 | 6 | 5 | 16 |
| Monaco | 7 | 5 | 6 | 18 |
| Israel | 6 | 5 | 6 | 17 |
| Belarus | 5 | 8 | 8 | 21 |
| Netherlands | 8 | 6 | 6 | 20 |
| Iceland | 7 | 7 | 7 | 21 |
| Belgium | 7 | 5 | 4 | 16 |
| Estonia | 6 | 8 | 6 | 20 |
| Norway | 8 | 7 | 8 | 23 |
| Romania | 8 | 8 | 6 | 22 |
| Hungary | 6 | 9 | 8 | 23 |
| Finland | 8 | 6 | 5 | 19 |
| FYR Macedonia | 7 | 5 | 5 | 17 |
| Andorra | 7 | 6 | 7 | 20 |
| Switzerland | 7 | 7 | 7 | 21 |
| Croatia | 6 | 6 | 5 | 17 |
| Bulgaria | 6 | 5 | 5 | 16 |
| Ireland | 6 | 5 | 4 | 15 |
| Slovenia | 8 | 7 | 8 | 23 |
| Denmark | 8 | 6 | 5 | 19 |
| Poland | 7 | 8 | 7 | 22 |
So, the ten countries going through to the final with my votes would be:
Everything is ready for the Eurovision Song Contest 2005
Originally uploaded by bitful.
Everything is ready for the Eurovision Song Contest qualifier.
TV tuned and connected to loudspeakers, and VCR ready to go.
Traditional Eurovision food at hand: a selection of home-made sandwiches, this year sans the distinctive flags-on-cocktail sticks.
Gallons of diet lemonade and frozen yogurt in the fridge.
The Icelandic flag proudly displaying on my laptop.
And Dr B. conveniently at his Ju Jitsu training.
Gay Haiku is finally out.
And so is Faustus, its author.
Well done!
(Should you want to buy the book, doing so via the Amazon.com link in this post gives the author a kickback.)
Damn. I have been cornered into driving my mother to the local cemetery today.
I am so glad I remembered to pack my tight Barbie hot pink polo shirt. And I so hope my nipple ring shows through.
The man has been dead for twenty years now – time to sort out my issues with my father perhaps?
Went for a run in the Italian countryside yesterday and found out that:
My intention was to spend two whole days with my mother, and for the occasion we returned to the family house (she moved in with my brother after a knee injury two years ago).
Three hours into the stay, I panicked. Was there enough food in the house? Did I have enough to read? Was the telephone line working so that I could go online? Did I remember to pack my mobile charger?
I was terrified to be cut off from the world, the very same feeling I had throughout my years there.
So, a quick dash to the supermarket and the newsstand later, I settled for a quiet evening in with mother in front of the telly.
And suddenly I was twelve again. I had my secret stash of food hidden away (if my mother saw the quantities of nosh I can put away in one session she'd be horrified and worried that I had developed diabetes like my dad). I sat down on the sofa and spread out the Guardian and a couple of books around me.
After a quick look at what the Italian TV landscape had to offer (tits and arse, none of which interested either of us), I switched over to HRT and saw the gorgeous blondeness of Feminem (yes, no kidding) singing this year's Bosnian Eurovision entry. When I realised that all this year's participants were performing on this preview TV show, with voting and all, I got all excited and told mother how I'd always liked the Eurovision Song Contest and only now that I live in the UK I get to experience the build-up publicly and talk to people with like-minded interests and this year I had already received two invitations to Eurovision parties and I was hoping to host a small one myself for the qualifying round before the live final but Dr B. was not too happy about it being a school night and all, and look, that's Anjelica Agurbash from the Belarus, wearing what looks like a chocolate wrapper with green muppet fur sticking out of it…
I turned around. Mother had gone to bed. Out came the food, and the familiar feeling of sticking out like a sore thumb.
I mean, up until yesterday I had never even remotely considered anyone under thirty-five as a recipient of lust.
Yesterday though, as I was settling into my seat on the plane (last row, so that I could beat all the other passengers and be the first one out as I had no luggage to collect), this vision in combats and black t-shirt walked in. Looked at the two empty seats right next to me that were screaming 'Me – pick meee…' – and walked past.
Ooh he was gorgeous. And not a day over twenty-five. The confidence he oozed single-handedly reminded the whole world why Italians are renowned for being striking.
He went past me again on the way to the toilets. Alas, he did not leave the door slightly open for me to sneak in past Natividad and Katri (too busy anyway flogging the airline's scratch cards – WTF?).
A closer look at his clothes showed he must have ramsacked the queeniest end of the latest H&M's collection – just as well, as I told myself that he probably sounded as camp as a row of tents. Or had a lisp. Or that he was one of these annoying Italian straight men who send out gay vibes and jam my radar.
And as I turned back to my fiendishly difficult Su Doku I realised I had turned into an old fox who could not get to the grapes. Or something.
So I'm off to Italy for just two days. So often have I travelled there during the last three months that it feels like a non-eventful short trip somewhere outside London – and so it should be, considering the ridiculous cheap fares.
OK, so this time I splashed out in order to be able to travel on a Saturday and not have to take Friday off (yesterday's Government's reshuffling meant it was the busiest day of the last four years at my job).
Still, this weekend's ticket only cost slightly more than what I blew on a single night out last weekend. Scary.
It feels good to be able to catch up with friends and family whenever I feel like. This time I'm going to see my mother, because during my last trip there with Dr B. I only briefly saw her at lunch twice in four days. She did not once voice her disappointment, but that crushed puppy look on her face made me promise I'd try and go just a couple of days to be with her only.
The words 'passive-aggressive' and 'Catholic guilt' inevitably spring to mind.
Please please please go to the nearest polling station and help decide who is going to run the United Kingdom for the next few years.
My future depends on your choice. Unfortunately I will only be able to apply for British naturalisation in a little over two years (the fifth anniversary of becoming a British resident) and until then I am not eligible to vote.
Do it for me. Don't waste your ballot. Think of all the people who fought hard for you to hold this privilege.
I would have thought that it is common sense never to trust any email that asks you to go to your bank's website and enter your details. If in doubt, report the email to your bank asking to confirm its legitimacy.
And as the average email inbox, unless protected with anti-spam filters, can receive dozen of such emails a week from different financial institutions who randomly target users–does this not make people suspicious?
Apparently not, as one in 20 online users admit to having fallen for internet scams.
Sometimes it's as simple as checking the URL. If your bank's website is located at http://freeweb.cz/freeusers/yourbank/index.html?user=gullible_twit, you know where you stand.