A lady on the train while apparently talking to a cow-orker on her hands-free mobile phone: “… open the Internet and go to three times ‘w’ and then kreditinformation and then — yes — yes, … then the password is ‘plrn03’ and then you go to …” and so on. I should've tried to get a conversation going with her, find out where she worked and what her name was. Social engineering. I'm not sure I remember the password correctly by the way, and I didn't catch the username, but maybe it isn't needed.

Christmas never fails to induce a significant amount of hate to various categories of people. Here's a small death-list:

  1. People who make their phones use a christmas related melody.
  2. The retards that let Arriva have anything to do with the Danish railroads.
  3. The people who made the ticket-machines at the railroadstations. Of the three identical machines I tried none would have my “Visa Electron” card, but they failed in no less than two different ways. Of course they failed at the last possible moment in the transaction. I feel spectacularly unassured.
  4. Those that I forgot. You probably don't know who you are. Idiot.

There, I already feel better…