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Jun. 7th, 2005 10:08 amTinkering with LJ.
There needs to be a way to change my icon settings. I have 15 right now, but I have more inactive ones still on the site from when I had extra icon space, and I want to use some of those, but LJ is assigning me my 15 icons out of my 38 uploaded icons completely randomly, and there doesn't seem to be a way to get the inactive ones back without deleting all the icons and starting over from scratch, so round and round and round we go.
Oh wow, people. Blinking.
I got away from the cold calling centre of doom last Friday, away from Toni with the funny name who consistently mistook my polite interest for actual enthusiasm. It's strange, but when hiring a temp for a paltry wage, he actually seriously expected me to care how many people showed up for his poxy little seminar (about three, incidentally). If you're in Brighton, you may feel free to go along and point and laugh. It's at the Hilton Metropole on the front at 6:30 this evening, and Toni is the one who looks like a Tellytubby crossed with Robert Kilroy-Silk.
So, House is getting it's UK terrestrial premiere this week, so I may give it a go and find out what the fuss is all about - from the vibe I'm getting it seems to be a bit like Green Wing, season two of which I am awaiting breathlessly. The only trouble is it clashes with Kath and Kim, arguably the best Australian show since Round The Twist.
I watched about two minutes of Big Brother 6 the other night, and, wow, well. Maybe it's the fact I've read Ben Elton's 'Dead Famous' since BB5 - an excellent critique and very funny murder mystery, if you're interested - but I have never in all my days seen such a bunch of empty-headed, boring little twats. I hate, hate every single one of them, with their stupidly spelled names and their 'Oh, we should respect Mykhael's feelings' or 'No, Enema has every right to express herself, Peatar' after Enema has just said something along the lines of 'I fink there's like a terrorist chav paedophile immigrant under everybody's bed innit?' and then it's into the diary room and backstab backstab backstab. We should deny them the oxygen of publicity; I would feed all of them to the Ravenous Bugblatter Beast of Traal.
There needs to be a way to change my icon settings. I have 15 right now, but I have more inactive ones still on the site from when I had extra icon space, and I want to use some of those, but LJ is assigning me my 15 icons out of my 38 uploaded icons completely randomly, and there doesn't seem to be a way to get the inactive ones back without deleting all the icons and starting over from scratch, so round and round and round we go.
Oh wow, people. Blinking.
I got away from the cold calling centre of doom last Friday, away from Toni with the funny name who consistently mistook my polite interest for actual enthusiasm. It's strange, but when hiring a temp for a paltry wage, he actually seriously expected me to care how many people showed up for his poxy little seminar (about three, incidentally). If you're in Brighton, you may feel free to go along and point and laugh. It's at the Hilton Metropole on the front at 6:30 this evening, and Toni is the one who looks like a Tellytubby crossed with Robert Kilroy-Silk.
So, House is getting it's UK terrestrial premiere this week, so I may give it a go and find out what the fuss is all about - from the vibe I'm getting it seems to be a bit like Green Wing, season two of which I am awaiting breathlessly. The only trouble is it clashes with Kath and Kim, arguably the best Australian show since Round The Twist.
I watched about two minutes of Big Brother 6 the other night, and, wow, well. Maybe it's the fact I've read Ben Elton's 'Dead Famous' since BB5 - an excellent critique and very funny murder mystery, if you're interested - but I have never in all my days seen such a bunch of empty-headed, boring little twats. I hate, hate every single one of them, with their stupidly spelled names and their 'Oh, we should respect Mykhael's feelings' or 'No, Enema has every right to express herself, Peatar' after Enema has just said something along the lines of 'I fink there's like a terrorist chav paedophile immigrant under everybody's bed innit?' and then it's into the diary room and backstab backstab backstab. We should deny them the oxygen of publicity; I would feed all of them to the Ravenous Bugblatter Beast of Traal.
