aqcom driving Imported From Epistula

Famous for the wrong reasons

The top three articles on Aquarionics are.

For amount of wuffie generated: ESF

For amount of Google hits: How to convert AMR to MP3

But for shear amount of comments, draining of my faith in human kind, and horror value:

How I failed my driving test

It’s not an amazingly written article. It’s not even that funny. But it did something quite neat at the time, and became the number three result for “failed driving test” in Google in the UK.

And the first that allowed comments.

Now, for a second, go and read that thread. Catch up on FIVE YEARS of people wondering why only running over a pedestrian a little bit counts as a fail.

Yesterday, I implemented the ability to shut off comments on arbitrary posts. So.

What little of my readership remains: Should I disable comments on that article?

Humour Imported From Epistula


Someone has put a maze of monkey puzzle trees between my house and the law enforcement training academy, in order to protect us from the noise.

Police are baffled.

comics Imported From Epistula

Super heroics

My housemate has Wonder Woman pajamas.

I point this out because over the last few months my live has disolved from a central role in an extremely convoluted romantic comedy to a wacky (and possibly also Zany) sixties throwback sitcom, where two single men and two single females live in a small house in Walthamstow with a dodgy landlord and even dodgier internet connection. We have a med student, a primary school teacher, the slightly older person will a full time job and stress and such (hi, I’m Aquarion, I’m your narrator), and Sian.

Sian has Wonder Woman pajamas.

We have to take a couple of steps back at this point, because this entry hasn’t had enough digressions already, and explain that over the last six months or so, I have discovered something new to throw my limited budget at, and this is Comics. Specifically, DC comics. I’ve always liked comic-style art and storytelling, but up until recently I’ve been the type of apreciator who buys the graphic novels instead. Then I walked into my friendly local neighbourhood comics shop (who also sell online, and do subscriptions and such) and my fate was sealed. Not only did I start buying comics, they started recommending comics to me – the fiends – that I would also add to my subscription list.

Then I left Bedford, with an agreement to phone them and get them to ship everything I missed since my last visit. Which I forgot to do until last week. Last week I phoned them, and asked if they could ship me the stuff they’d been keeping on hold. So now I have a large stack of comics to read. Including the new Wonder Woman series, which I leant to Sian, because she was in danger of being productive.

And now Sian has Wonder Woman pajamas.

This manifested itself about half an hour ago, when I went downstairs on a break from doing designy stuff to get a glass of milk, and Sian – whose bedroom is next to the kitchen – leapt out in the costume. I’m not sure how they’ve done it, to be honest, but with the Wonder Woman pajamas they’ve managed to package a pose. It appears to be impossible for someone wearing them to stand without doing so hands on hips, legs slightly apart. Superhero pose. Comes with the costume.

This would be bad enough. The questions as to whether we have enough kitchen foil to make some bullet deflecting bracelets were bad enough. I deflected the theories about creating a Lasso of Truth. However.

Sian wants us all to have superhero costumes. Marta would be Super Girl. Mike can be Wolverine. Me? I got Batman, which would be cool, but I changed it to Captain America, on the basis that I’m out of canon for the time being. This doesn’t appear to have worked. I may be forced to fight crime.

Along with the rest of me.

Fiction Imported From Epistula

Ouija Typewriters

J.R.R Tolkien has a new book out

(Yes, it’s a new novel based on the same unfinished notes that were used to create The Simarillion. Still)

Current Affairs Imported From Epistula

Swinging on Roundabouts

In the United States of Advertising:

A new chorus of critics says it’s time to lower the drinking age
[…] The final drawback is pretty straightforward: It makes little sense that America considers an 18-year-old mature enough to marry, to sign a contract, to vote and to fight and die for his country, but not mature enough to decide whether or not to have a beer.

Meanwhile, in Great Blairton:

Change drinking laws for binging Brits, says think-tank
[…] Young people should be banned from drinking until they reach 21 or be forced to carry a card that records their alcohol intake, an influential journal claims.

Imported From Epistula weblog

A Meme

If you read this, if your eyes are passing over this right now, even if we don’t speak often, please post a comment with a memory of you and me. It can be anything you want—good or bad. When you’re finished, post this little paragraph on your blog and be surprised (or mortified) about what people remember about you.

Like Dan from whom I ganked this, I don’t do many memes here, but I’m (a) curious as to who is reading this still (Actual content soon, promise) and (b) What the answers are.

Also, I don’t guarantee this will work, but may or may not be coming soonish, or the basis for same.