The Pineapple Tin Factor

Or: How Technology Demonstrates Dumb Insolence
I have referred to this factor in the past, though not for some time, so allow me to refresh your memories.  Jerome K. Jerome (whose parents were utter swines) is the author of that timeless classic "Three Men In A Boat".  This is the story of three friends who, utterly without relevant experience, decide to go on a boating trip.
     Things do not work out well for them.  

A typical event

     Amidst the chaos of their travels, they sustain their spirits by reminding themselves that they have a tin of delicious pineapple chunks -
     And no tin-opener.  Someone had boo-booed.

CAUTION!  Do not improvise like this

     So they do try to improvise, and nearly kill George.  They try brute force, beating it with an oar, beating it and beating it, uselessly, until they beat it into a shape that frightens them so much they throw it in the river.
     They had beaten it into a shape horribly like a grin ...*
     Thus has it been with Conrad and his Digital Devil Device, or mobile phone if we're being formal.  For the past nine days my laptop has stolidly refused to recognise any new photos that I've taken.  Restarting, rebooting, restaboting, pleading imploringly, dangling both over a naked flame - nothing's worked.
     Until now.  I used the "Phone" option instead of the "Card" option and - there's the new photos.  Mind you, it did take a good twenty minutes mucking about with Windows 10's  Photos app and trying to export and <drones on for another five minutes> we are!  Art?

It's a battery

     From my i-pod dock unit's remote control, which also THANK YOU TECHNOLOGY refuses to work.  I suspect the battery has died, so Conrad shall have to try and wheedle one out of Wonder Wifey, who has a collection of batteries hidden somewhere.
     No, motley, I do not want a slice of fresh pineapple.  Do you want me to be sick?

You Have To Be Kidding!
Conrad and First Bus have a somewhat fraught relationship, because they're run by a bunch of idiots and employ evil psychopaths as drivers.  You doubt me?  I have proof - Art!

The 182 bus

     This is me standing at the 83/84/X84/163 bus stop, waiting for the 82.  The 182 should have driven straight past here, gone into Picadilly Gardens and then up to it's stop on Lever Street.  But no; matey stopped here and got the passengers off, before changing his signage to "Sorry Not In Service" and driving off.
     My explanation is that he was running late  and thus determined he was going to get back on schedule by ignoring anyone waiting at the proper stop.  Yeah, pal, great for your timetable, not so much for your passengers; I wonder how many times this has happened  when the 181 or 182 simply don't turn up at their stop when I'm waiting for them?

Conrad.  ANGRY Conrad.

Conrad's Succulent Buttocks
Sorry if that generates a ghastly image you can't unsee, for I have been bitten in the nethers by the Coincidence Hydra again, so those self-same buns must be especially tasty in their raw state**.
     I refer, of course, to "Action This Day", that collection of essays about Ultra and Bletchley Park.  It turns out that the Teutons (and their Italian allies) were profligate in their use of ciphers for all sorts of communications; after all, you can't use a telephone line to speak to a ship at sea.  Anyway, there was a group of ciphers that Perfidious Albion's codebreakers gave the names of fish, such as "Sturgeon" and - pay attention here - "Tunny".  Art?

A Tunny

     Okay, I was reading this tome on the way into Gomorrah-in-the-Irwell (it being especially wet at this time of year) and got off to walk to the Dark Tower.  What did I espy on this walk (vomit and beer bottles can be taken as read)?  Art!

Behold! 

     I think the universe is trying to send me a message.  Why not just use social media?  It would be a lot less creepy tha  DON'T SNEAK UP ON ME LIKE THAT!

Tricks With Bricks
Yes, we are looking at another tricky Lego build, another in their range of "Star Wars" vehicles.  SW, in case you are unaware, is an obscure trilogy that came out decades ago, with some really cool designs in it.  Including the All-Terrain Attack Transport.  Art?

When Behemoths Attack

     These things are undeniably cool.  Conrad, ever the realist, wonders what their ground loading is, since that's an awful lot of mass being carried on a relatively small surface area.
     Anyway, the Lego version:


      As evidenced from the "14+" indicator, this is not quite as tricky as the "16+" kits, as it only (!) has 1,137 pieces.  Also, it 'walks' when you put the batteries in and turn a switch, which is geeky cool.  I can offer you a link:

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Emx0JqYo1bM

     - that takes you to a Lego fan's Youtube video.   He demonstrates the walking function at about the nine-minute mark, if you're feeling at all impatient.  If you are, then these kits are probably not for you***.

Finally - 
Let us cast our bloodshot, scratchy eyeballs back over the past, in particular that "Panzer Ace" book  by Richard Von Rosen, which I detailed some of yesteryon.
     After battling in Russia and getting badly injured, RVR ends up getting sent to Normandy with his Tiger unit, where he discovers just how unpleasantly intense and accurate the artillery of Perfidious Albion could be, especially when directed by an aerial spotting plane.  No matter how often his Abteilung shifted position, shells were constantly dropping on and around his tanks, until finally the spotter aircraft ran low on fuel and left.  This horrid experience also confirmed another of RVR's worries: lack of Luftwaffe.  His unit could only move at night thanks to the skies being ruled by Allied airpower in daytime, and in summer meant only 8 hours or so of safe time.

Camouflage a bit pathetic, I'm afraid, matey

     At this point RVR begins to wonder if they're not being told the truth about what's really going on amid all the vaunted V-weapons not ending the war in their favour.  

*  Apologies for no picture, it's just not out there.
**  Experiment to confirm not needed.
***  But you could always pay someone to build them for you.