I’ve got about a thousand floppy disks full of stuff I’ve collected over the years. Documents I’ve saved – ‘just in case’. Loads of back ups from way back when before CDs allowed me to store the Library of Alexandria on a coffee mat. Freebie programs from when being given a free floppy disk still felt like something quite special.
I really need to get rid of these disks because they’re just taking up space – both physical and mental, I’ll probably never use them again. The fact that I’ve not used them for several years gives me confidence that they could exit my life real soon with no ill effects. The only problem is that I don’t really know what is stored on many of them. It could be my innermost musings on my life plans when I was contemplating retraining as a Yak warden. More worrying those photos I vowed would never see the light of day may be lurking somewhere in the pile.
You see disk labelling was never my strong point. I had my own filing systems which were based on colours, position in storage box and mental maps of where everything is. Unfortunately, a while back all of the disks ended up in a big pile on the floor. I was ‘reorganising’ – only I got interrupted for about three weeks and then I had to watch Neighbours, a cat was under my floor and – well you know.
So now I don’t have a clue what is on these disks and I really can’t be arsed to sit here for about 4 days going through them all. I need to get one of those large electromagnets that Oddjob used in Goldfinger to pick up James Bond’s crushed car and drop it in the back of his pick up before returning to Goldfinger’s evil ranch. [ Can a ranch be evil ? ]. Such a powerful magnet would instantly scramble the contents of the disks and render them suitable for donation to that company that recycles them into Hugo Boss shoes and Prada thongs, then sells them to unwitting celebrities on Santa Monica Boulevard in Canvey Island.
All those incisive memos and planning sheets I spent hours of my life agonising over would be zapped into ferric oblivion and I would be free. Please someone out there – send me Oddjob’s phone number.
How ‘I Claudius’ got made.
Must remember to watch this later.
Have you got a problem?
Do the quiz.
Apparently I’m one of the 73% classified as ‘normal’.
God help the ‘abnormal’ that’s all I can say.