Help! I say, Help, boy!

I am hoping some of you chaps can advise me on whether my latest computer problem sounds, on the balance of probabilities, like it is actually my computer, or the exchange I use to dial out on.

Of course, the bizarro-world serendipity I suffer from means that I find that quite independently, ntl's mail server is down, so I haven't been able to access anything that's not automatically forwarded to my hotmail account for a couple of days. In the past that hasn't stopped me accessing the web, so the fact it's all come together at once is just a crusty cherry on a stale cake.

Anyway, this morning I tried to log on, and failed. I actually did connect a couple of times but at speeds that would have made an old 14.4 modem laugh in superiority. I think the best connection speed was 9660kps, the worst was in three figures. After that it refused to connect at all, the modem would dial out and I would get either the loud and prolonged squawk of a modem at the far end that won't connect to the computer, or equally annoying but easier on the ears, static.

My alternate dial out to a different provider acted pretty much the same, and on both dial ups the modem would intermittently sulk and pretend it wasn't there after a couple of failed tries. I don't blame it.

Now, my techie friends, does that sound like a problem with my PC/modem, or a problem with nt-hell's phone exchange?

Oh, and the web server is still down - I can't access it through any of my usual routes from the office.

Help! I say, Help, boy!

I am hoping some of you chaps can advise me on whether my latest computer problem sounds, on the balance of probabilities, like it is actually my computer, or the exchange I use to dial out on.

Of course, the bizarro-world serendipity I suffer from means that I find that quite independently, ntl's mail server is down, so I haven't been able to access anything that's not automatically forwarded to my hotmail account for a couple of days. In the past that hasn't stopped me accessing the web, so the fact it's all come together at once is just a crusty cherry on a stale cake.

Anyway, this morning I tried to log on, and failed. I actually did connect a couple of times but at speeds that would have made an old 14.4 modem laugh in superiority. I think the best connection speed was 9660kps, the worst was in three figures. After that it refused to connect at all, the modem would dial out and I would get either the loud and prolonged squawk of a modem at the far end that won't connect to the computer, or equally annoying but easier on the ears, static.

My alternate dial out to a different provider acted pretty much the same, and on both dial ups the modem would intermittently sulk and pretend it wasn't there after a couple of failed tries. I don't blame it.

Now, my techie friends, does that sound like a problem with my PC/modem, or a problem with nt-hell's phone exchange?

Oh, and the web server is still down - I can't access it through any of my usual routes from the office.

(no subject)

As I was walking back up the road from Clapham North tube, I was struck by precisely what a flangeparrot nature can be.

As I believe I observed not yet a week past in this very forum, winter still sits damp, chill and heavy on the land. Maybe a touch less so in London than points north, but the drab grey of winter continues here, too. And with the dry Arctic blasts of the past two days from the north-east the point is reinforced.

The colours continue grey and washed out and the greens listless and drab. People scurry, coats wrapped and arms clasped as the wind cuts through them. Even young Norbert, the Bromfelde Road fox is silent at night, appearing but infrequently and with red eyes as if to say, "Spare change for a cup of tea, Squire?"

The trees are stark and lifeless - nary a bud yet to be seen. Spring is pressaged only by the huddled clusters of daffodils tentatively poking their yellow heads above the parapet that is the lawn outside the council flats on the corner.

It is cold and it is still winter.

SO WHY THE FEK IS THE CHERRY TREE AT THE END OF THE ROAD - NEMESIS TO MY SINUSES - COVERED IN BLOODY BLOSSOM AND COLOUR LIKE IT'S FEKKIN' CORONATION DAY?

Answer me that, why don'tcha? And pass me the chainsaw while you're at it.

Thank you and goodnight. I'm off to sneeze and snuffle.

Bastard pollen.

(no subject)

As I was walking back up the road from Clapham North tube, I was struck by precisely what a flangeparrot nature can be.

As I believe I observed not yet a week past in this very forum, winter still sits damp, chill and heavy on the land. Maybe a touch less so in London than points north, but the drab grey of winter continues here, too. And with the dry Arctic blasts of the past two days from the north-east the point is reinforced.

The colours continue grey and washed out and the greens listless and drab. People scurry, coats wrapped and arms clasped as the wind cuts through them. Even young Norbert, the Bromfelde Road fox is silent at night, appearing but infrequently and with red eyes as if to say, "Spare change for a cup of tea, Squire?"

The trees are stark and lifeless - nary a bud yet to be seen. Spring is pressaged only by the huddled clusters of daffodils tentatively poking their yellow heads above the parapet that is the lawn outside the council flats on the corner.

It is cold and it is still winter.

SO WHY THE FEK IS THE CHERRY TREE AT THE END OF THE ROAD - NEMESIS TO MY SINUSES - COVERED IN BLOODY BLOSSOM AND COLOUR LIKE IT'S FEKKIN' CORONATION DAY?

Answer me that, why don'tcha? And pass me the chainsaw while you're at it.

Thank you and goodnight. I'm off to sneeze and snuffle.

Bastard pollen.