A Sunday roast, that’s what I like.
It’s a great way to end the week.
Unless of course you’re Cornflake, who insists that Sunday is the beginning of the week, in which case, it’s an excellent start to the week.
Whatever, we’ve been and done it and had champagne too.
I needed it, this week has been urgh.
I sorted out my covid passport shit, much simpler than I’d anticipated and I’m ready for Frenchie visiting.
I successfully re applied for my old lady bus pass, way more complicated than it should have been, but done and dusted.
This was also the week I faced the printer challenge, the enormous DTG printer that I bought over a year ago has to start earning it’s keep…..or else.
I’ve been putting it off, I knew it wasn’t going to be simple and once primed it has to be used almost daily. I bought the printer new, direct from a supplier in China. It was substantially expensive although about a quarter of the price of similar machines available from agents in this country.
Clever?
Not so much maybe, I think it’s made of parts from a variety of big brand DTG printers, a Frankenstein of a printer, and all the instructions are in Chinese.
I’ve watched hours and hours of videos, in Chinese, and I’ve trawled YouTube for additional info.
GorJus was on hand, when I hit optimum frustration level, with some actual knowledge and importantly, calm.
Picture if you will, the vision of my mother dealing with a complicated and frustrating knitting project by throwing it on the floor and jumping up and down on it.
That was what I was channeling…but more so.
Had it not started behaving as I thought it should I was going to take a hammer and chisel to that bastard printer. Really.
Why not sell it?
Or give it away?
Its behaviour felt personal, it was going to have to die.
GorJus insisted I had to be nice to it, I however believed that death threats would be more effective, and apparently I was right as the next day it was much better behaved.
This may of course have been because by then I understood some of the printers foibles. For instance, it doesn’t print centrally, but now, after 3 days of fannying around, I sort of know where it thinks the centre is and can position images accordingly, I also now know that not having the surface to be printed at exactly the right distance from the printer head results in all manner of crazy printing shit, and I can kind of tell by eye when it’s positioned correctly.
It definitely knows what it wants, and it wants it before giving itself to the job. This operator is going to have to be on the ball, constantly.
I had initially named the printer, GorJus insisted it had a name, Mr Woo, followed by Frankenprinter, then Fucking-Pathetic-Bastard-Fucking-Fruncktard-Bitch, but now I’m thinking that Goldilocks might be more appropriate.
On the subject of what you want, I’d definitely not say no to one of these gasometer flats at Kings X.
fat tart 